*
Jane stayed with Mr. Cuddles in the kitchen until she was reassured he felt safe and calm again. After that, she spent a few minutes stroking Bouncer’s silky ears in an attempt to reassure and calm herself.
She was not looking forward to having “words” with her husband. They’d been rubbing along so well the past few weeks, even with the looming pressure of the Season to worry about.
When she left the kitchen, she walked very slowly to his bedroom so he’d have extra time to gather his temper. She could not lay the blame for this incident at Mr. Cuddles’ feet—or belly rather. She was the one who’d been taking him upstairs, thinking Edward would never catch her at it. He usually went riding in the mornings, for goodness sake.
Not that it excused her. No, she was deservedly in trouble. She knocked on his door and tried not to shudder when he said “Enter!” in his disciplinarian voice. She brushed a hand through her hair—which was as frazzled as she was—and tried to smooth it down. Oh, what was the use of any of it?
She found him standing near the window. He held a shining tiara, turning it between his fingers. For a moment, she forgot about Mr. Cuddles and her husband’s anger, and crossed to look at the splendid piece more closely.
“It’s gorgeous,” she exclaimed. The sun’s rays illuminated the intricate, gem-encrusted headpiece. “Whose is it?”
“Yours, silly. It’s not my style. I ordered it to go with your dress for Felicity’s ball.”
She could hardly speak, it was so elegant, so perfectly what she would have wanted in a first tiara. For it was the first tiara she’d ever owned or been given.
“Let me see,” he said. He brushed back her hair with one hand and settled it on her head with the other. She reached to arrange the combs meant to hold it in place, heading to his dressing room so she could look in his mirror. He stood behind her as she gazed at her reflection.
“It must have cost so dear,” she said. “Even my mother hasn’t one this grand.”
“You are related to European royalty now, through my sister. You’ll need a tiara for events like the upcoming ball.” He studied her, then the tiara. “It suits you well. The jeweler said it would.”
It was a wonder of sparkling diamonds and shining pearls, with a gold setting that complemented her normally uncomplementary hair. She felt so pretty, she wished she could wear it all day, every day. The most touching thing was that Edward had picked it out for her himself.
“I was bringing it upstairs to show you earlier, when the presentation turned to a snake hunt.”
That wiped the giddy smile from her face. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Suddenly he was standing far too close to her. He plucked the tiara gently from her hair and carried it back to its velvet box as she tagged along beside him. Perhaps he would forgive her for the whole escaped pet drama? After all, he’d just given her such a precious gift.
He closed the box’s lid and turned back to her. “I did tell you very specifically that your pets were not to be brought into the house.” His expression was stern beneath his dark hair. Not forgiven then. Not yet. “What have you to say for yourself, Jane?”
What could she say? She’d disobeyed him with absolute intention to do so. It wasn’t an accident or impulse. No, she’d timed her trespasses with his morning rides about the property, thinking he’d never find out.
“I have nothing to say in my defense,” she admitted. “You’ve been so kind and accommodating with me and my little zoo, with only one rule to follow, and I broke it. I did it intentionally, hoping you’d never find out.”
He studied her, his amber-gold eyes calculating in the morning’s light. Was he pleased with her contrition, so perhaps he’d be more lenient in her punishment? Or was he furious she’d so brazenly disobeyed him?
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “I know that doesn’t take away my error.”
He rubbed his forehead with a tired sigh. “Of all the things, Jane. We’re going to leave for London tomorrow. What if he’d become lost in the house and we were unable to go?”
“It’s true. Of course you’re right, Edward.”
“The rules are there for a reason. You must think things through.”
As he delivered his lecture, he picked up another box from a side table and opened it, showing her the embroidered slippers within. “These arrived along with the tiara. Won’t you be beautiful at the ball? When we’re in society, darling, you can’t be impulsive and unthinking. You’re a grown woman now, representing two eminent families.”
She stared at the fine dancing slippers, wishing she might go back in time and undo her mischief with Mr. Cuddles. Her husband’s patient, disappointed tone was worse than the scolding he’d done earlier.