Chapter 7 #2
“That would be good. Mrs. Nelson, this is my wife, Mildred; Mildred, this is the housekeeper, Mrs. Nelson.”
“Welcome to Wesden Heath, Mrs. Hadley,” the housekeeper said.
“Thank you. Did my maid, Constance, arrive yesterday?” Milly inquired as she followed Mrs. Nelson inside.
“Yes, she’s all settled in,” Mrs. Nelson said.
Owen trailed behind them as he entered the front door of the house. Mr. Boyd, the butler, rushed in the hall, his cheeks ruddy, his breath heavy.
“My apologies, Mr. Hadley. We weren’t sure what time to expect you when you did not turn up this afternoon. I will have Cook prepare a meal for you and Mrs. Hadley.”
“Very good, Boyd. Send it to my chamber and we shall dine there tonight.”
“Of course, sir.” Boyd then introduced himself to Milly before he ducked out of sight, heading for the kitchens.
“Milly, let me take you to your room and get you settled. We’ll have a quick dinner upstairs tonight.” Owen crooked his elbow out and she slid her arm through his.
As they walked up the stairs, he tried not to think about the state of the worn carpets and dusty bannisters. When Milly’s gloved hand brushed against the wood, it came away with a smudge of grime. He had never been ashamed of his home before, but in that moment, he was.
The daughter of a viscount was used to something better than his.
What could she think of him and Wesden? The grounds and house were in need of so much care.
If she didn’t love Wesden, then she wouldn’t be happy, and an unhappy Milly meant the shrewish temperament might return.
It was not a prospect he looked forward to.
He paused in front of a bedroom, the one he’d directed to be prepared for her a week after their marriage plans had been announced in the banns.
It was a few rooms away from his own chamber, which at the time had seemed not nearly far enough away.
At first he’d been relieved that custom dictated a wife would have her own bedchamber.
But now…now he wished they had connecting rooms, ones that made them feel more like man and wife.
People who shared their lives together usually came to care about each other.
His parents had kept separate rooms and they had been able to avoid each other.
He’d assumed he might face that possibility with Milly, but…
not anymore. He wanted an intimate marriage, not just physically but emotionally.
He’d never been one to live a lonely life and he wasn’t about to start now.
Owen had a sneaking suspicion that Milly might be amenable to it, too, if he could keep stealing kisses and find a way to melt the icy walls around her warm heart.
He wanted her to be close. It was a damnably foolish notion to crave her nearness, to ache to take her to bed, but he did.
Even when she pushed him away, she fascinated him.
Milly was a tightly wound bundle of contradictions that made little sense to him, and he had the strongest desire to spend the rest of his life untangling the mystery of who she really was. Temptress or shrew?
“These are your rooms. Your lady’s maid should have her own chambers in the servants’ hall.
If either of you have need of anything, there are bells, of course.
Mr. Boyd and Mrs. Nelson can see to anything you require.
” He opened the door to Milly’s room. Constance was already inside, waiting patiently by the bed.
Milly’s shoulders relaxed visibly and she smiled for the first time in hours.
“Constance.” The one word, so full of relief on her lips, made his chest ache. He rubbed at the spot with one hand but dropped it when she turned back around to face him.
“Thank you, Owen. I should like to have some time alone after our journey.” She was glancing about the room, avoiding his gaze.
“Are you sure? I’d be happy to help you settle in,” he offered.
The thought of her pulling away from him after everything they had shared made him feel hollow.
He didn’t want to live with a stranger for the rest of his life.
He’d rather have her spitting mad and railing at him for something thoughtless he’d said about her books than have her ignoring him.
“No, I’ll be quite fine on my own. What time is dinner?
Will there be a formal table prepared? Or should I expect something more casual?
” Her tone was cool not cold, but it made him want to growl.
This wasn’t the Milly he’d wanted to see.
This was the Milly from before they’d married, the cool socialite who walled her heart in ice.
There was no hint of the intimacy that had been growing between them.
They’d made progress this afternoon, and now she was attempting to move backward.
He’d be damned if he let her shut him out again.
He clenched his fists at his side. He would have to overwhelm her with passion, it was the only time he could break down that frosty wall she’d erected to keep him out.
When Milly was kissing him, she wasn’t cold or closed up; she was a different woman, a passionate, wild creature that smiled and laughed.
A woman he could come to love with a little time.
And that was what he wished for, to have a wife he could love, who might love him back.
“I’m not sure. I’ll come to collect you. Since we will dine in my chamber, no need to dress up. Wear whatever you wish.”
She nodded politely and tapped one booted foot, apparently more than ready for him to leave.
“Well…I’ll see you in a short while,” he said, and she promptly shut the door in his face.
“I’ll see you in a short while.” He sounded like an idiot. With a low growl, he stalked off toward his own chambers and slammed the door.