Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Christopher noticed the changes to his home immediately. Worse that he hadn’t even had the luxury of arriving at his manor, taking a bath, changing his traveling clothes, perhaps even having a nice meal, when he saw them.
Sitting atop his horse, Christopher steered it at a steady pace through the large, iron-made front gate, when he was gifted his first proper view of his home, a moment that came with a writhing sensation felt deep in his soul.
Perhaps I should have stayed away for even longer… maybe never having come back at all.
He had been gone for three days, a necessary departure that had everything to do with his wife. Married for less than a day, Christopher decided that time apart was what they needed. Just long enough so that Rose could settle in—without him.
Besides, all he was doing was what he promised he would do. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he gave her that. Surely, that was the right thing to do?
But then he arrived home. That writhing sensation through his body returned as he did. And then he saw something that made his entire being squirm with discomfort.
It was the hedge wall that ran parallel to the left side of the driveway.
Thick and verdant and lush, while also being in desperate need of a trim.
Christopher’s eyes narrowed when he spied a stray branch protruding from the perfect straightness of the hedge’s wall, and he allowed the softest snarl to escape from his lips.
If Christopher had his days correct, the hedges were supposed to have been trimmed earlier today. Joseph was the Head Groundkeeper and knew how particular Christopher was about these things.
He cast his gaze further, thinking to find one of the other gardeners who should have been tending his lawn right now so that he could tell them to take care of that hedge first, and find Joseph second. Only, and it took Christopher a little while to comprehend this, but there was nobody in sight.
What is going on? Where is…
Stomach turning, he kicked his heels into the horse and hurried it toward the manor.
A footman by the name of Thomas was waiting by the front door for him, which would have been fine, had Liam not been the one who was supposed to be there!
“Your Grace!” Thomas squeaked as he hurried down the drive to meet Christopher’s charging horse.
“Where is Liam?” Christopher barked as he threw the reins at Thomas and climbed down. “Is he sick? What?”
“Sick, Your Grace?” Thomas’ voice cracked. “No, he’s helping Alfred in the stables. Or I was told that was the case.”
Christopher felt a throbbing sensation building in the back of his head. “Remind me, Thomas. Are you not assigned to the stables?
“I am, Your Grace.”
“And you are not there right now because?”
Thomas’ eyes widened. “I… Her Grace thought it was best if we switch because… well, I was telling her about my back, how sore it gets, and… Liam, well, he was tellin’ her how much he loved horses, and…
I guess Her Grace…” His mouth started to open and close wordlessly as Christopher’s glare became increasingly irate.
Something was going on here; it didn’t take a man of great intellect to figure it out, and the throbbing sensation in Christopher’s head worsened.
“And what of Joseph?” Christopher barked. “Or any of the ground staff? What in the name of all things is going on here?”
“Her – Her Grace,” Thomas stammered. “She told us… she was certain you would not mind… we were only doing what…”
His first instinct was to let loose all his anger and frustration on the poor footman, because it would be better to get it out before he confronted his wife.
But Christopher suppressed that urge, because he rarely lost his temper at the staff if he could help it.
The last thing he needed was to be known as the type who abused his staff for fun.
Rather, he offered up a very disappointed sigh and stormed past Thomas’ mumblings, up the stairs, and into his home as the anger inside him gathered wind like a dark storm over a calm scene.
“Your Grace, welcome home.” Standing in the foyer was Mr. Carter, the Head of Staff.
Christoper came to a halt at the sight of his Head of Staff, waiting to greet him. That was because Mr. Carter should not have been doing so. That was that young chap… James! This was his role.
“Where is she?” Christopher’s body was shaking, but he did his best to remain in control of his temper.
“I believe Her Grace is upstairs…” Mr. Carter grimaced when he saw the state of Christopher. “The last I heard, she was in your office.”
“What?” Christopher exclaimed, caring not for the uproar. He felt that in this instance, it was warranted.
“Your office, Your Grace,” Mr. Carter said. “I spoke with her no more than thirty minutes ago.”
Be calm, Christopher. Do not let her get under your skin. Likely, this is a misunderstanding. Nothing to get all worked up over…
By the time Christopher reached his office, he was no less calm. And the chances of that changing became less likely when he saw that the door was closed.
He took a calming breath. And then another one.
It was one thing for Mr. Carter to see his temper, not the first time by a long way, but Christopher could not do the same thing around his wife.
When people asked of this marriage, which they would certainly do, the last thing he needed was her telling people that he had a vicious temper.
That was how rumors got started. And that was when people started paying attention.
Calmness and control were what Christopher needed, and he focused on both, determined not to let his wife affect him. And more importantly, that she does not see that other side of him.
Only when he was ready did he open the door and walk in.
He saw Rose immediately. She was seated behind his desk, and she looked up when she saw him come in. Her face dropped and paled slightly, and Christopher noticed immediately how different she looked. Not because she was nervous. Not because she was afraid. Rather, she looked sick.
Her skin was pasty. Her limbs were skinnier. And her hair sat flat and lifeless on her scalp. Worse than all of that were her eyes, hollow and just plain tired-looking.
It was enough to make Christopher falter for a second, very nearly forgetting what he had been so angry about.
“Christopher, you’re home,” she said with a confident smile. “I had no idea.”
“Rose,” Christopher approached his own work desk. “You look… are you feeling well?”
Rose reared back, taken by surprise by the question. It didn’t last long, and her expression quickly became defiant as she sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “You are probably wondering about some of the changes I have made around here.”
“Changes?” The word pulled Christopher back into the room, and suddenly Rose’s slightly disheveled state didn’t concern him nearly as much as it had. “The changes that you have made to my home, you mean?”
“Our home,” she corrected immediately. “And before you ask, the reason that I did it is that there were a few…” She considered the phrasing for a moment. “… inefficiencies. I corrected them.”
The side of Christopher’s lip twitched. “Is that right?”
“It is.”
“How foolish of me, assuming that the way I have been running my household now for years was perfectly efficient. How could I have thought such a thing?”
“It is fine,” she said simply. “I was happy to do it.”
“I am that sure you were.” His leg was trembling, and that she was playing it so cool and self-righteous wasn’t helping.
Rose frowned, no doubt surprised by how reasonable he was being. “If that is the case, I will be interested to see what you think of the rooms –”
“Rooms?” Christopher cut her off. “What rooms?” A coldness crept up his spine.
“I did a little redecorating,” she said carefully. “Nothing drastic, I promise, but there were a few choices of yours that needed updating. A little color and such were brought into the house. Believe me, you will end up thanking me for it.”
“Color.” His lip twitched, and that throbbing returned to the back of his head.
“Updating.” He took a deep breath. “I was not aware that… if I had known…” He forced a smile that was anything but friendly.
“Perhaps I should have told you before I left, and that is on me. But this house is more than a place where I sleep at night. It is my existence, my sanctuary, if you will. With that in mind,” His forced smile grew. “I rather like how things are.”
“Are you saying I am not free to treat this house as my own home?”
“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just that if you wish to make changes, next time, speak to me first.”
“I would have done so, but you had left.”
Another deep breath, and he looked right at his wife. She matched it with a stubborn scowl of her own. “I would not have left, but it was a matter of urgency. I am sorry if it upset you.”
“I was not upset,” she said quickly. “Believe me when I tell you so.”
Christopher could feel himself losing control of the situation. Of his very home. While he wanted nothing more than to argue his wife into submission, he was so careful to keep his composure in front of her. She thought of him in a certain way, and that perception was everything.
This would not stand, but it could stand for a few more hours, until he had time to settle down.
“I am tired from the ride.” Christopher straightened himself. “A bath is what I need. A bath and—” His eyes drifted onto the table for the first time, and they found what it was that Rose was doing in there. “What is that?”
“Excuse me?”
“That?” he said sharply, pointing at her work. “What is that?”
“Oh1” Her eyes widened, and she looked worried for the first time. Worse than that, she looked as if she knew that she had done something wrong and got caught for it. “This is nothing.”
“Rose,” he growled, not giving a damn now for his anger. “What are you doing?” He leaned over the desk, hands flat on the wood, blocking Rose from looking anywhere but at him.