"Do you often find yourself thinking about what kind of Earl you want to be?"
A contemplative expression crosses his face. "I suppose it's something I've given a lot of thought to, yes."
"You've never said as much before."
"I didn't think it was in keeping with our promise to not enter a serious courtship," he says.
"And yet somehow, we ended up in the most serious one of all."
He chuckles and takes my hand in his, raising it to his lips and kissing the back of it. The warmth of his touch is almost too much to ignore, even through the fabric of my gloves, and there's a small part of me that wishes I wasn't wearing one, but while the box gives us privacy as far as our conversation goes, there are several audience members who will still have a good view of the two of us.
Though I suppose to some extent that no longer matters, it isn't like anyone can make us marry again.
Philip doesn't let go of my hand even after helowers it, and I find myself lapsing into silence so I don't break the spell that's fallen over us. I can't explain the way I'm feeling, but it's almost hopeful, as if this is a turning point towards something I can't put a name to.
We didn't exactly plan to end up here, but the least we can do is make our marriage work as friends, and when we're ready to take our places as the Earl and Countess as Swancove, we'll be in a position to do our duty for the earldom in the best way we can.
Eleven
Letitia
The carriage rollsto a stop outside the grand double doors of the Ferrington residence. I search around, half expecting to find Philip beside me as a companion. The carriage feels empty without him, and I have to admit that it's strange for me to be arriving anywhere alone. Now we're married, he is often with me, and when he is not, the Countess is by my side, watching on to determine if any of what I'm doing is acceptable to her, or if I'm risking bringing shame to the earldom. Perhaps one day, she will decide that she can trust me, but that's notgoing to be any time soon. If anything, she seems to be trusting me even less now I'm married to her son.
But at least she doesn't have an invitation to Lady Ferrington's soirée this evening. I'm uncertain how the deer shifter decides on who is worthy to invite and who is not, but it seems that the Countess has not made the list.
The door opens and I descend, careful not to rip my dress. Philip may have insisted on setting up an account at my modiste, but I didn't want to run up vast debts with her simply because I'm clumsy with my outfits.
The gravel crunches under foot as I approach the doors, taking in the rampant stags on either side. It's a wonder the human world hasn't realised that shifters exist when we can be so blatant at displaying what we are for the world to see. Then again, I suppose it's easy to say that it is simply a stylistic choice when the animal in question is something like a deer. Or a swan.
The doors open, and I step inside.
I hand my cape to a footman and follow his directions inside. The sound of raucous laughter and distant chatter fills the air, adding to my nerves about the evening. I'm unsure what the proper decorum is for an evening amongst the other married ladies of the ton, but I'm about to find out.
I step through an open door and enter a room filled with feathers and elaborate dresses, with each of the ladies doing their best to show off their husband's status, as well as what kind of shifter they are. It's an interesting collection of women who wouldn't necessarily have been companions before their weddings.
I search the faces, half expecting to find my friends amongst them before remembering that neither Georgiana or Mary are married and won't have been able to score an invitation.
"Lady Cygnus, how wonderful of you to join us," Lady Ferrington says with a genuine smile on her face.
"Thank you for the invitation," I say politely, remembering just in time that I don't need to curtsy deeply to her. While her husband is a Baron, Philip's cursory title of Viscount puts me above her in station, not below it.
"Do you know anyone who will be in attendance?" she asks.
"I don't believe so, neither of my close friends are married yet."
"Ah, that would be Miss Rocke and Miss Falnor, if I am not mistaken?"
"How do you know?"
"Before my current marriage, I made it my dutyto know who was connected to who within society. It is a habit I suggest you take upon yourself too as it can save many potential disasters from happening."
I nod, taking her advice to heart, especially after I ignored it the last time we spoke alone. "I must thank you for keeping my dalliance with Lord Cygnus a secret," I say, not wishing for her to think I hold her accountable for the situation I've found myself in.
"You're welcome, though I don't believe it seems to have made much of a difference."
"Let's just say I'm not good at heeding warnings."
Lady Ferrington chuckles. "Believe me, Lady Cygnus, I know a thing or two about being unable to resist."