Aunt Dottie had said that for some people that fever faded after the honeymoon. George wasn’t sure whether the thought of that was a comfort . . . or a worry.

A comfort, she told herself firmly, because if this was love, it was confusing and uncomfortable and she didn’t want a bar of it. She picked up a stick for Finn and threw it as far as she could.

*   *   *

It was the night before the wedding. Hart, much against his inclination, had allowed Sinc to drag him out for a few convivial drinks with some friends. “Not natural for a bridegroom to pass the night before sober and alone,” Sinc insisted. “You need drinks and company to chase the nerves away.”

“I’m not nervous in the least,” Hart lied.

“Not worried about the wagers, then?” Percy, one of the friends said.

“Wagers?” Hart repeated in a steely voice.

“Nothing, no wagers,” Sinc said hurriedly. “Old Percy’s three sheets to the wind—silly fool doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“No, I’m not,” Percy said indignantly. “There’s a dozen different wagers on the wedding not going ahead.”

“Shut up, Perce!” Sinc hissed.

But though Percy might not be three sheets to the wind, he was drunk enough not to take a hint. “You know yourself, Sinc, that the money’s on a second Rutherford girl jilting the poor fellow. Lady George not the sort to make a duchess. No ambition in her. Swore she’d never marry, and I for one, believed her. Anyway, I saw you lay a bet myself, so what are you pokering up and pulling faces at me about?”

Sinc groaned.

“If that’s what you think, you have wasted your money,” Hart said coldly. He rose and opened the French doors to the balcony, hoping some cool night air might calm his temper. After a while Sinc followed him out.

“Did you bet on my wedding?” Hart asked him.

Sinc pulled a rueful face. “You know me, Hart, can’t resist a good bet.”

“And what did you bet on?”

“That she won’t let you down, of course. A straight arrow if ever there was one, Lady George.” He stared at Hart. “You didn’t imagine I’d bet against you, did you?”

Hart relaxed a little. He hoped Sinc was right, but doubts continued to plague him. He still didn’t understand why she’d decided to go ahead with the marriage. She’d fought so hard against it at first, but then, when he’d offered her her freedom, she didn’t take it. Why?

Every other woman who’d ever shown interest in him hadn’t been able to look past his title, his fortune and his estate. What was she getting out of this marriage? She wasn’t ambitious, she didn’t care about titles or his fortune—she’d made that abundantly clear in the settlement discussions.