that, her stomach felt heavy and strange. She fought to gather her thoughts. He could distract her with a look!
“Sweetheart, I honestly have no intention of returning to the Home Office. But if something of vital importance occurred and they called upon me, I would have to say yes, would I not?”
She sighed and shook her head at him. He had wriggled out of that far too neatly. She settled within his arm. He was hers now and would be for the conceivable future. That had to be enough. “Charlotte said Anabel Riley came from a small village in West Yorkshire. Do you think we might call in there on our way to Cumbria?”
“You haven’t given up on her, I see. I hope we don’t find anything to upset you.”
“I’ll take that chance. We should do all we can to find her.”
“I have had the men searching London for Miss Riley for weeks. There’s been no sign of her.”
“I’m not sure Virden took Anabel. He said the last girl was one his mother enticed off the street.”
“Virden wasn’t the most truthful of men.”
“He didn’t have a reason to lie to me.”
“No, perhaps not. But this isn’t a fitting conversation for today. But I promise we’ll call in to her village on our way north. There’s always the chance that someone received word from her.”
“Thank you, darling.”
A smiled quirked the corner of his mouth. “When you look at me like that, I’m happy to do anything you ask.”
Jo shook her head, amused. She didn’t believe it. He was not a man to be manipulated, which was one of the things she admired about him, so she smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.
As the coach took them to the Cartwright’s, Reade had time to dwell on his life. He had not the slightest doubt of how he felt about Jo, his love for her was rooted deep in his soul, but he hadn’t entirely trusted the grim moods which ruled him would release him from their grip. He would never forget the appalling bloodshed and loss of life painted in vivid pictures on his memory. He had tried to help the families of the good men in his regiment who shed their blood on the battlefield, and those who returned, often badly injured or maimed and unable to find work. He wanted to do more. Women were often better able to do these things, and he looked forward to discussing it with Jo.
At the wedding breakfast held in the Cartwrights’ white and gold ballroom, his eyes rested on her as they danced. He was proud of his enchanting wife, who wasn’t just caring of others, but strong and brave. He wanted to whisk her away and have her to himself.
“It has been the very best of weddings.” A half-wreath of spring blossom decorated her dark red curls, her big green eyes beneath dark gold lashes a blend of affection and longing which made him catch his breath.
“Yes, indeed,” he agreed gravely.
“And I have the bravest and most handsome bridegroom in all of England.”
He grinned. “Then I have succeeded in pulling the wool over your eyes.”
A dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth. “You shall not convince me otherwise.”
He sighed. “May you always stay that way, my Jo. I love you so much. Shall we go soon?”
Jo turned in his arms to look around the long room. A trio played a Mozart piece, and other dancers had joined them on the floor. Her Aunt Mary and her father chatted with guests. “I feel like I belong to all this,” Jo said, with a misty smile. “For the first time.”
“A notice appeared in The Morning Post.”
“I wonder if my mother’s family in Marlborough will see it. They have never welcomed me because, in their eyes, my father wasn’t good enough for them.”
“Class is not always a matter of birth,” Reade said.
“Virden thought it was. That he hadn’t been born on the right side of the blanket consumed him.”
He frowned. “Jo.”
“Yes?”
“I won’t have mention of them here or during our honeymoon. Or, in fact, at any time. That’s in the past, Jo. And there it will remain.”
“But if we could just find Anabel, I shall not speak of it again.”
“I can see it will be up to me to distract you,” he said, his gaze capturing hers. “I am eager for the task.”
The smile she bestowed on him was as intimate as a kiss. His arm tightened around her. Loving Jo was