“They’re why you wanted the wedding at home,” he said, finally understanding that this was Petra’s world, as the carriage started up the driveway back to the house.

“Yes, exactly. They matter more to me than the whole of London’s ton,” Petra responded. “Joth feels the same. It’s why he’s so passionate in his commitment to his constituency.”

Guy nodded, reflecting that in his own Somerset village the attentions he received from his tenants and local villagers were always polite, always respectful, but he couldn’t recall a moment when he’d been aware of affection from any of them. He followed in his father’s footsteps, expected his agent to run the estate, to treat the tenants well, attend to their needs, and as lord of the manor the baron could expect respect and loyalty in return.

Petra cast him a sidelong glance, wondering why he was suddenly so somber. “Is everything all right, Guy?”

He smiled. “Yes, my love, everything is fine. I just can’t wait to have you to myself, and it will be hours before that can happen.”

Reassured, she leaned into him, lifting her face for his kiss just as the carriage drew up outside the open front doors of the house. The entire household was gathered at the bottom of the steps to greet the bridal couple with a shower of late summer roses as they went inside.

* * *

Three hours later, Petra turned to Guy, sitting beside her at the high table in the great hall. “I would like to go home now.”

Guy looked around, the feasting was over and wedding guests were now dancing and strolling around the hall and adjoining salons, drinks in hand. “Then that’s what we will do,” he said, hiding his own relief. “Where’s your brother?” He glanced around the hall and caught Jonathan’s eye across the room.

Jonathan made his way through the dancing couples to the table. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes, how did you guess?” Petra asked.

“Oh, just instinct,” her brother said with a chuckle. “Also, I could see you were getting restless. I’ll sort it out with Ma and Pa while you go and change?”

Diana and Fenella appeared just as Petra pushed back her chair to stand up. “Ready to go and change?” Diana asked.

“More than ready,” Petra answered. “Oh, what shall I do about the rubies, Guy?”

“Keep them on,” he said. He leaned down to whisper, “I rather fancy making love to my bride dressed only in rubies.” Petra felt a warm flush suffuse her skin and a now familiar jolt of arousal in her belly. She said nothing, though, and stepped away from the table, flanked by her friends. Lady Rutherford, sitting with a group of ladies at the end of the table, saw her daughter move and swiftly came over to her. “Are you going to change now, my dear?”