Mutual Consent by Gayle Buck Page A

“We have done it, Miss Crib—my lady. We have burned our bridges and there is no alternative now but to go forward.” There was a trace of grimness in his normally drawling voice.
    Babs glanced at him. He sat at ease, his body swaying gently to the carriage movement. There was a frowning expression in his eyes that served to grant her a measure of courage, for she saw that she was not alone in feeling unease over her changed circumstances. “Indeed, my lord. I hope that neither of us has reason to regret the course we have embarked upon.” She took a steadying breath as she plunged into what was for her a confidence.”I must admit to a feeling of trepidation. I suppose because it is all so foreign to me. In truth, I never thought to hear myself addressed as ‘my lady.”‘ She attempted to laugh as she shook her head over the vagaries of fate.
    “As my wife, you will become used to that, as well as to a great many other things,” said Lord Chatworth. His eyes slowly traversed her face and figure, pausing finally on the glint of gold on her finger. Then he turned his head to stare out of the window.
    Babs’ heart pounded. She wondered exactly what his lordship was thinking. His scrutiny had been peculiarly encompassing and the color had risen unbidden to her face during his brief survey of her. It was such a strange, penetrating stare that she suddenly wondered whether she had been as perfectly clear as she had thought during their first meeting. Surely Lord Chatworth had understood that theirs was to be a marriage in name only. If he had not. . . the alternative appalled her.
    She was not a shrinking miss, nor quite as ignorant as perhaps she should have been. As a girl in her father’s house, she had seen and heard enough to have gained a fair notion of what went on between a man and a woman. After her mother’s death—and even before, when her mother had already become ill—her father had brought various women into the house. Mr. Cribbage had not cared that he wounded his wife’s sensibilities or that he exposed his impressionable young daughter to the cruder aspects of life.
    Upon Mrs. Cribbage’s few and timid remonstrances on her daughter’s behalf, Mr. Cribbage had laughed rudely and declared that the girl needed educating in her future marital duties. “She is not like to get it from such a pale milksop as yourself, madam,” he had said bitingly to his wife.
    Mrs. Cribbage had risen from her chair, bright spots of color in her normally pallid face, and had exited the sitting room with her husband’s hateful mocking guffaws beating about her ears. Her rare rage had the effect of invigorating her, despite the weakness of her constitution. The following morning she had taken Babs and gone for an unprecedented and lengthy visit to her sister, Lady Azaela. It was during this time that she had confided so much and exacted the promise of her sister’s aid for her daughter in the event of her own demise.
    In accordance with her sense of duty and out of deep affection for her niece, Lady Azaela had naturally taken it upon herself to discover in just what guise this marriage of her niece and the Earl of Chatworth was taking place. When Babs had informed her aunt of every detail of the pact agreed upon between herself and the earl, Lady Azaela had instantly seen its advantages, but later she had warned her niece that at times such understandings could be conveniently set aside. She had proceeded to inform her niece in great detail of what to expect if his lordship should choose to exercise marital rights, after all.
    Babs had listened in shock and amusement, but with immense gratitude as well, for she knew that her aunt spoke of such things only out of great love for her.
    Now as she recalled some of Lady Azaela’s strictures and explanations, Babs had cause to blush. She glanced again at the earl. She had seen before that he was handsome and that he was possessed with an intriguing hint of recklessness in