The Taming of Ryder Cavanaugh (Cynster #20) - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,67
met his eyes, held his gaze for an instant, then simply said, “In social importance, your engagement to me rates significantly above James’s marriage to Henrietta, but I don’t want our engagement ball to”—she waved—“outshine Henrietta’s wedding.”
Ryder slowly blinked; seeing opportunity beckon, he asked, “Is there any reason it should?” Leaning forward to set down his cup, he went on, “In light of the nearness of the wedding, if you and your parents are agreeable I see no reason our betrothal dinner can’t be restricted to our families—principal cousins, but no connections—and the ball could be similarly restricted to the more important connections and acquaintances.” He raised his eyes to hers, arched a brow.
She smiled, plainly delighted. “Thank you—and the correct term isn’t ‘restricted.’ It’s ‘select.’ ”
Grinning faintly, he sat back. “My apologies—our engagement ball will be a highly select affair.” He studied her, read the clear approval in her face, watched her drain her cup, lean forward and set it on the tray, then sit back. “One thing.” He waited until she raised her gaze to his. “Our wedding. It must be an event befitting the alliance of two of the oldest, most powerful and wealthy families in the ton.”
Brows slowly arching, she held his gaze for several moments, then said, “I have nothing against your suggestion—but is there some reason . . . ?”
He shrugged lightly. “Other than my appreciation of the benefits of applying the right degree of pomp in certain circumstances . . . not really.” For himself, he didn’t truly care, but for her . . . he wanted their wedding to be an event to remember, and in ton terms that meant a major production. Her comment about not wanting to outshine Henrietta had been a sacrifice on her part; she hadn’t intended him to see that, but he hadn’t been fooled. Mary was a lady who thrived on big events, and in the matter of their wedding he saw no reason to shortchange her.
Indeed, he saw multiple reasons to ensure their wedding was as big an event as she might wish, but he wasn’t about to articulate any of them, not to her.
When she continued to regard him with a not-so-faint degree of skepticism, he gave her another reason, one he was fairly certain she would accept. “Aside from all else, a very large wedding will ensure no one even vaguely imagines either family is less than thrilled with our union.”
Slowly, she nodded, her eyes on his. “Speaking of which . . . yesterday, when your half siblings were here, I gained the distinct impression that there’s some . . . strain, shall we say, between them and their mother over you. And therefore over me.”
“I should warn you about that.” Regally, she waved to him to proceed. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, only to realize . . . he grimaced and sank back in the chair. “In order to properly explain, sufficiently to adequately prepare you for what you might, at some point, find yourself facing with Lavinia, I suspect I need to go back to how and why she became my father’s second wife.”
Mary considered him, then shifted into a more comfortable position on the chaise. “You perceive me all ears.”
He smiled, then, levity fading, commenced, “Believe it or not, I was a sickly babe. Then my mother died of a fever when I was three, and I caught it, too, and nearly died. The doctor was astonished that I survived. Subsequently, any ailment of any sort in the vicinity and I caught it. I was deemed at death’s door more times than my poor father could count. After a few years, the medical men all agreed that it was highly unlikely I would survive to adulthood. My father had been devoted to my mother, and throughout his life he remained devoted to me, but he knew his duty. He wasn’t getting any younger and he had to have an heir, so he married again—and he chose Lavinia. Aside from her unexceptionable birth and background, her principal attractions, my father later informed me, were her willingness to marry a man twenty years her senior, and to bear him several children. Rand was born in short order, then Kit, then a few years later, Stacie, and then Godfrey.
“At that point Lavinia and my father reached an accommodation, and their marriage became one in name only. Both lived their separate lives, and from all I ever saw the arrangement proved