He raised a brow, seeing for the first time the mulish jut of her chin and the hard look in her eyes. Ah yes, this woman was one of Bronwyn’s closest friends. And it appeared as if she was ready to go into battle.
Casting a quick glance in Bronwyn’s direction, relieved that one of her other friends had managed to extricate her from her parents’ grasp, he braced himself for whatever unpleasantness was to come and turned back to Miss Athwart.
“And what conversation would that be?”
If anything, her expression became more furious. “I don’t know what you’re about in marrying Bronwyn so quickly, but I won’t have her hurt.”
He pulled back, surprised at the acidic vehemence in her tone. “I assure you, I have no intention of hurting anyone, most especially Bronwyn.”
But Miss Athwart seemed not to have heard him. “I know she may appear capable and levelheaded. Which she is; she has a brilliant mind, one far superior to that of most people. But that does not mean she does not have a heart. And it has already been broken once; I won’t allow it to happen again.”
Once more Miss Athwart managed to surprise him, the third time in as many minutes. This time, however, it woke something dark in him.
“She has been hurt? By whom?” He had, of course, suspected as much on more than one occasion, but to have it verified was something else entirely.
The woman drew herself up. “That is not my story to tell, Your Grace,” she replied coldly.
“Ye scabby bawbag,” the parrot said in a ridiculously strong Scottish brogue, tilting its head and spearing Ash with a stern glare.
“What I can tell you,” continued the young woman, her voice lowering to a threatening growl, “is that the Oddments are watching, and if you wound our friend in any way, you shall rue the day.”
Ash very nearly laughed at that bit of absurdity.The Oddments are watching? What secret society code was this? But his amusement was short-lived. The woman did not stand down; if anything, her glare became more pronounced, her lips pressing into a thin line. She was as serious as sin.
“I do not take my vows lightly,” he replied gravely lest she think he was toying with her. “Bronwyn is under my protection, and I will guard her with my last breath if I have to.”
The words were said with a surety and gruffness that she could not fail to hear. Finally there was a crack in the ferocious mask she wore, and a vulnerability shone through. He saw the wild worry for her friend that she had no doubt been trying valiantly to hide. She opened and closed her mouth several times, as if unsure of how to respond. Just when it seemed she had gathered herself together to form words, however, Mrs. Pickering burst upon the scene.
“Your Grace,” Bronwyn’s mother exclaimed, grabbing his arm. “My darling son-in-law. We cannot have you hiding from your guests. There are ever so many people we have yet to introduce you to.” She turned to Miss Athwart with a cool smile. “Do forgive us for stealing Bronwyn’s husband away, my dear. Duty calls and all that.”
Miss Athwart’s eyes turned glacial. “Of course, madam,” she replied stonily.
“I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!” the parrot screeched, flapping its wings, sending tendrils of Miss Athwart’s hair flying.
“Oh, that horrid beast,” Mrs. Pickering muttered as she dragged Ash away. In the next moment she turned a sickeningly sweet smile toward him. “I do hope Miss Athwart was not disturbing your peace, Your Grace. She is much more opinionated than an unwed woman should be. I have tried for years to nip Bronwyn’s friendship with her in the proverbial bud but have failed horribly in that regard. Perhaps you might succeed where I have not.”
Good God, how had Bronwyn dealt with such idiocy for so long? “I assure you, Mrs. Pickering,” he said with deliberate firmness, “I have no intention of forbidding my wife to socialize with any of her friends. Ever.”
Mrs. Pickering stumbled to a stop, gaping at him. But her look of surprise quickly melted away to one of condescension.
“Dear, sweet boy.” Which was something he had never been called in his entire life. “You are, of course, newly married, and do not yet know the mischief such women can do to a happy home life. If you require advice, I am certain Mr. Pickering would be more than happy to assist you.”
Before he could think to respond to that outrageous suggestion, the woman spotted someone and waved energetically, her hand flying wildly about in the air.
“My dear Lady Grinton, you are here,” she exclaimed. “Would that I could have given you more notice. But you know these young people. Love at first sight and all that, and they could not wait a moment longer to marry. Why, the duke even hied off to London for a special license. How grand is that? Ah, to be young and in love again. But let me introduce you to my son-in-law.”
Here she turned to Ash with a cat-that-licked-the-cream smile. Thus began a blatant preening as she introduced Ash to her friend, dropping his title with frightening frequency. By the time the two women linked arms and waddled off, graying heads bent together, Ash’s own head was spinning as fast as a top. Truly, he didn’t know whether to be offended or impressed.
A soft, strained voice sounded at his elbow. “I’m sorry about that.”
He looked down to find Bronwyn at his side. And he promptly forgot the last minutes. Now that he was the recipient of her steady, solemn gaze he felt suddenly grounded as he had not all day. Well, except for that one shining moment at the altar when he had lifted her veil and kissed her, binding them together.
But she was still talking. “I know she is a little…much.” She winced, her hands tangling in the gold netting of her gown. “I know both of my parents are, really. But you needn’t worry that they believe a word of what they say about us.” Her expression darkened. “And no one else will believe them, either.”
He frowned. “Believe them about what?”
Her face flushed red. “That ours is a love match. It is a known fact that I am not the kind of person to inspire such feelings.”
They had, of course, never intimated that they were blissfully enamored of one another. But the stark, certain way she spoke the words dredged up a deep anger in him. He had seen her interact with her parents before, of course. But their relationship had to be so much worse than what he had witnessed to have her thinking such a thing of herself.