Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“Can we interest you in a bottle of sweet perfume? As fine as the ones in London, ma’am,” the wiry shopkeeper said eagerly, his eyes jumping with ill-conceived satisfaction every other second to the small pile of trinkets and knick-knacks Adelaide had amassed since they arrived.
When Richard had mentioned replenishing supplies, Adelaide had not expected to be feted around like a proper lady by the handful of shops in the modest village. Never in her life before had she ever been treated as anything more than an afterthought or a pawn.
And yet here she was, ushered around as if she were Queen Charlotte herself, plied with wares that looked too pretty to be tucked away in the countryside like this.
“Would you like a bottle?” Richard asked.
Adelaide looked up at her husband. It was easier not to fear him like this, when the public nature of their surroundings ensured her safety.
Adelaide smiled. “I do not think I need it.”
“Oh, then perhaps a new bonnet, ma’am?” the shopkeeper quickly offered instead. He handed off the aforementioned perfume to the plump woman behind him, who replaced it immediately with a dull brown bonnet that had to be at least two decades old. “To protect your lovely face from freckles, ma’am.”
Adelaide almost laughed. Despite always having had a more practical opinion of fashion, she would never purposefully purchase such an atrocity. Antiques belonged in museums and grand houses, not on one’s head.
“I thank you, sir. I do not think I need anything else,” she assured the man.
Obvious disappointment washed over the faces of the shopkeeper and his wife, and Adelaide almost felt guilty for causing their regret.
“I believe Mrs. Thompson is in need of a new bonnet, don’t you think?” Richard said.
“Mrs. Thompson?” Adelaide looked up, confused. It was hardly their responsibility to keep track of which staff members needed new accessories, and their grumpy cook was hardly one to care for fashion. “Is she?”
“Or perhaps Windles.”
“My lady’s maid?”
“I hardly think there to be another Windles.” Richard smiled benignly.
Adelaide paused, contemplating the oddness of his expression for a moment. Then she turned to look at the skinny shopkeeper. His fingers were wound tightly around the brim of the outmoded hat. Hope shimmered in his eyes.
Did he and his missus have children? An unexpected sale would surely feed them for a good week or two.
Adelaide turned more fully to face the proprietors. “I believe we shall need the bonnet, after all. And perhaps the perfume as well.”
“Thank you, ma’am! Thank you, sir!” The bows and smiles came quickly. “Allow us to arrange for the items to be brought to Granville House.”
“There is no need to trouble you,” Richard said, his deep voice commanding in the confines of the small shop. “I can carry a few small packages readily enough.”
“Of course, sir. If you are certain, sir.”
It did not take long for them to settle the bill and leave with their new packages. With one hand, Richard assisted Adelaide up into the gig. And after jumping up to join her with remarkable agility, he adeptly turned back to secure their purchases in the small box installed behind them.
“There, do we have everything we need?” he asked her. “We ought to be returning soon.”
Alone once again with her husband, Adelaide’s courage wavered. What if all that generosity was merely a gentlemanly front? But he had extended kindness to her, and even to the shopkeepers. Surely, that behavior had to count for something.
Adelaide glanced down the street and saw a sign for the apothecary. “I would need some herbs for the stillroom,” she said quietly.
It never hurt to be properly prepared.
Richard did not appear particularly happy with the suggestion to extend their trip, but he nodded. “As you wish.”
Their shopping excursion, even for an assortment of things they only partially needed, managed to take the rest of the day, and it was well past their usual dinner hour by the time Richard guided their gig up Granville’s main drive.
The house ran well and provided adequate comfort for the two of them, but its distance from a decent town proved both a blessing and a curse.
There was something enjoyable about traversing the distance with a companion, apart from his batman or valet or groom.
The way Adelaide allowed him to guide her by the arm throughout their excursion also gratified him.
But after years with a family of rambunctious brothers, or an equally rowdy battalion, surrounding him, the delicate silence between him and his wife still settled uneasily on Richard’s shoulders.
She did talk to him, and to others too. She did not appear at all like her recent withdrawn self in the village shops or at the apothecary’s. But once they reverted to their own private company, it was as if a curtain would fall, and Adelaide was no more than a muted, pretty doll beside him.
Growing up with brothers who never made a secret of what they thought of him, Richard found it difficult now to discern his young bride’s moods.
She answered his questions, and she did not appear to shrink from him like she had at one point.
But it was a challenge to tell if he was making any progress with her at all, particularly when all she seemed to do was shake or nod her head with a few quiet words whenever he tried to converse with her.
She did not seem repelled by him—that was at least something.
But there was a wide, wide chasm between lack of repulsion and true devotion.
He handed her down and through the main door amidst a rush of servants offering their help.
“Dinner’s gone cold, sir,” Mrs. Mindel said with obvious embarrassment, or perhaps frustration. “Didn’t know to keep it warm or not.”
“That is understandable, perhaps, given the hour.”
“But would you need a spot to eat, sir, ma’am?”
“I cannot speak for Mrs. Avington, but I myself have worked up a good appetite over the past few hours.” Richard turned to his wife to seek her response. “Would you wish to dine formally tonight?”
“I would appreciate some food,” Adelaide responded with a small smile. “But whether we do so in the dining room or in our rooms—I have no preference.”
“Do send up a good tray then.”
“Very good, sir,” said Mrs. Mindel. “And another for the mistress?”
Richard turned and waited. A tentative hope in his chest hummed underneath his formal facade.
Adelaide seemed to weigh a few things before responding, “One good tray should be enough, Mrs. Mindel. The sitting room should be spacious enough for a meal for two.”
The servants set off to do their masters’ bidding, and Richard slowly offered his arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Avington?”
Her face appeared uncertain, still touched by a sliver of hesitation. But she eventually took his arm. “Thank you. I suppose I can see to my own correspondences after the meal.”
It was a premature dismissal, that much was clear.
Richard urged himself to be patient. They’d shared more time in each other’s company today already than they had since their wedding, apart from the nearly wordless relocation to Granville. That had to count as progress.
He refused to be disappointed, even if he only partially succeeded.
“I think it a splendid plan.”
At least she held his arm the entire way up.