Instead they took a carriage to Camborne. Grace looked fetching in her silvery-blue dress and blue accessories. She had a thick ribbon under her breasts that tied into a rather large bow behind her, not that he could see it but she was sitting with a straight back in the carriage seat, hoping not to crush the accoutrement. Finally, his mistakes were being made right in this one perfect decision. “After our Continental wedding tour, I thought we should see my mother before we return to London,” he said. Her face paled and she turned away from him, all gaiety gone from her expression. “No, I can’t. You said we would let a seaside cottage.” “I did not mean it. We will do as all couples do. I won’t have people thinking I don’t want to show off my bride.” “No, I thought you understood I was never leaving Cornwall. This is my home. I’m not going back to London.” He leaned forward, bracing one arm on his knee and reaching for her hands, now clutched in her lap. “Dearest, you can’t hide here forever.”
