"Of course, I want you, Nora. I burn to have you and have for weeks. But I want to do things properly with you. You are different from any other woman I have ever met, and I want to honor you and wait for our wedding night."
The cloud of doubt cleared from Nora's eyes, and she smiled. The fact that Arthur would deny himself the pleasure she was so freely offering him to honor her proved that he was not the kind of man she had first believed him to be. He was not a thoughtless cad who thought only of himself. Yes, he had been a rake, but he was not heartless. He was kind and caring, and she was so happy that she had finally stopped judging him so harshly and could see him for the man he truly was.
"Thank you, Arthur. That means more to me than you can know, but we needn't wait. I am not a virgin, as you well know."
He laughed at her cheeky reply and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I know, my dear. But I want to do things right with you. The banns will be posted, and we can marry in a matter of weeks. I can wait that long."
Nora sighed. She did not want to wait weeks or even days to join with him, but she could see that this was important to him. He wanted to show her that she mattered to him more than anyone else, and she could not deny him that.
"Very well," she said.
"Thank you. I promise to make our wedding night worth the wait."
"I will hold you to that, Your Grace," she teased.
* * *
Nora and her aunt shared a warm farewell the following morning, with promises to remain in contact. She promised her aunt that an invitation to the wedding would be sent as soon as the date was set.
The return journey to London was made in considerably more comfort than the journey to Bath. There were only the three of them in Arthur’s carriage, which was designed more for the comfort of the passengers than for parcels. The lack of crowding and the additional cushions and amenities were a welcome change from their previous method of travel.
Lydia was wide-eyed and had questions about everything she could see outside the carriage window. She gave every indication of having made a full recovery, and Nora was grateful for both the renewed energy of her little girl and for the greater space in the carriage for Lydia to move and chatter into.
After spending the night at a roadside inn, they rolled into London in the early afternoon of the following day, arriving at the Bedford estate in time for tea. Lydia’s wide-eyed and innocent excitement at the size of the house and grounds went a long way to easing Nora’s own embarrassment. It was difficult to arrive as a lady at the house where she had so recently served as a maid.
Bradstone greeted them at the door. He had evidently been informed of matters, for he greeted both of them with a low bow. “Your Grace. My lady.” His eyes flickered to the small child clinging to Nora’s skirts. “And Miss…”
“Lydia. This is my—our—daughter, Lydia.”
“Miss Lydia. Lady Abigail is in the family dining room. She has been awaiting your return.” His gaze went to the luggage. “She has had the Duchess’s suite prepared for you, Miss Nora, and the nursery is being prepared. Shall I have your luggage delivered to your rooms?”
“If you would, please.” She nodded.
“As you will.” A small smile creased the older butler’s usually impassive features. “And on behalf of the staff of Bedford, may I offer congratulations?”
“You may. Thank you, Bradstone.” Arthur smiled. “And do see that Jack receives an extra two pounds for his excellent service.”
“As you say, sir.” Bradstone stepped aside, leaving the three of them to enter the house.
Lydia’s eyes were wide as they went deeper into the house and up the stairs to the family apartments. “Mama... it’s so big.”
“Yes, it is, darling. But that means you will have plenty of room to play. And a bedroom all your own.” Nora bent and lifted her daughter into her arms as the little girl blinked, looking slightly overwhelmed.
Together they made their way to the family dining room. Arthur knocked and then opened the door. “Mother... I am home.”
“Arthur.” Abigail rose from the table with a smile, which only widened when she saw Nora following her son. “And Nora! I am so glad you are here!” Her eyes went to the little girl clinging to Nora’s shoulder. “And this must be…”
“This is my daughter, Lydia.” Nora moved closer to the Dowager. “Lydia, this is the Dowager Duchess of Bedford, Arthur’s mother.”
“None of that. If we are to be family, I insist you call me Abigail. And you, my dear child, may call me Grandmother if you like.”
Lydia nodded, her eyes bright. At Nora’s slight nudge, she smiled shyly. “Is nice to meet you…” she hesitated a moment. “...gran’mother Abi…”
“Abigail.” The Dowager’s smile was warm and encouraging.
“Gran’mother Abigail.” Lydia repeated obediently, and Abigail’s eyes sparkled with delight.
“Excellent, darling. Are you hungry?” At Lydia’s nod, she gestured to the table. “Then you should have something to eat. Why don’t you select something you like while I speak with your mother and Arthur for a moment?”