Chapter Four #2
As opposed to her parents’ polished-and-spit-shined butler, Mr. Danvers had a full head of dark hair, thick and with a tendency toward unruly, and a rough, burly exterior.
He appeared to be a good man who just needed a purpose.
His loyalty and discretion Lord Culver, himself a renowned colonel, had vouched for personally.
She hoped his assurance proved accurate, now.
“Good evening, my lady,” Mr. Danvers said in his low baritone as she neared him.
She made no immediate reply, and instead, waved him indoors.
With a disgruntled frown, he complied, stepping back to allow her to enter.
Once inside, she closed the door, then shifted to face him. “Good evening, Mr. Danvers. Thomas and I will require some assistance.”
He arched a single brow. “Very good, madam.”
In light of her limited time, she had given the matter of how to broach the subject with Mr. Danvers some thought, and had decided it was best to come straight out with it. “My husband is in the carriage. He’s recently returned from the war effort.”
“I see.” To his credit, he did not appear fazed.
“He has not been well,” she told him. “In fact, it seems he returned to us with no memory.”
Danvers made no reply, but she thought she saw something like sympathy flicker in his dark eyes.
“In point of fact, he does not remember me.”
Now, both his dark brows shot upward. She reminded herself she’d known what she was signing up for when hiring him. She simply hadn’t anticipated this turn of events.
“He was…er…in a hospital prior to my collecting him this morning and required sedation for the journey, and I am not certain if he will have the ability to manage the—”
Abruptly, the front door swung out in a wide arc.
Teddy stood on the stoop, evidently having managed the short walk on his own recognizance, and Georgina was struck anew by his disheveled appearance.
The man she’d known always exhibited a clean shave, combed, neatly trimmed hair, immaculate dress, and did not sport facial bruising indicative of a brawl.
If not for his glower, aimed at the two of them as if he’d caught them in some sinister act, she’d be hard-pressed not to… well, wrap him in her arms.
Not that she would actually do that, even minus the glower.
Behind him, Thomas, a full head and shoulders shorter than Teddy, offered Georgina an apologetic grimace.
“I assume you’re informing our butler of my unfortunate circumstance, dearest. Wouldn’t want him to get his feelings hurt that I have no recollection of him, now would we?” Sarcasm laced Teddy’s every word.
Mr. Danvers’s brows furrowed. The look he slid Georgina said he’d box her husband’s ears if she so requested. No, definitely not your run-of-the-mill butler.
She gave him a subtle shake of her head and shifted to make way for Teddy to enter. “As it happens, my lord, you have not yet met any of our staff. I was simply requesting Mr. Danvers’s assistance in getting you from the carriage to the villa, which, as it happens, you did not require.”
Without a word, Teddy sauntered—no, swaggered—inside. He did a much better job of it than she had, when was that, last week? She made a mental note of the mechanics of his gait, the set of his broad shoulders, the laconic gleam in his eyes, for potential use in a future novel.
Or in the event she required Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s services in future, as unlikely as that was.
Teddy took in the foyer, glancing up at the high ceiling and sparkling, candlelit chandelier before ducking his head through the open doorway to the corridor beyond through which lay the kitchens and staff bedchambers.
Then, without another word, he started up the stairs.
Georgina shot Mr. Danvers a look of alarm. He must have rightly interpreted her fear that Teddy might stumble thanks to the sleeping powder he’d ingested earlier, because he trotted up behind Teddy, close enough to catch him if necessary.
Fisting her skirts in her hands, Georgina followed at a more ladylike pace.
By the time she reached the receiving hall, which made up most of the first floor, Teddy stood at one of the tall sash windows, gazing out at the sea beyond while Mr. Danvers studied him from a discrete distance, arms crossed over his chest.
Teddy must have heard her footsteps, because he pivoted to face her.
Her breath caught at the sight of him and she did not attempt to staunch the smile spreading over her face.
She had defied custom, eschewing drapes on the wall of windows in this chamber, not wishing anything to obstruct her view.
How glad she was now, with Teddy, here, bathed in the golden, stuttering light of the beeswax candles left burning in anticipation of her return, while outside, faint white caps of the crashing waves gleamed in the waxing moonlight behind him.
How many times had she imagined just such a scene?
Mr. Danvers cleared his throat. “My lady, would you like me to stay to see milord safely up the stairs to your bedchamber?”
Georgina opened her mouth to answer, but Teddy’s tsk of annoyance beat her to it.
“I’m right, here, Mr.…what is your name?”
“Mr. Danvers, Lord…Arlington, isn’t it?”
Georgina’s head snapped in the butler’s direction. Had she told him her husband’s name? She could not recall. She must have done because he knew her only as Lady Belfry.
“By God, you don’t recall the family name, Danvers? Based on your dress, I assume you’re my butler. One would expect a butler to know such trivial things as the name of the man who employs him.”
Georgina winced at Teddy’s uncharacteristically haughty tone and sent Mr. Danvers an apologetic smile.
“To be fair, my lord, I must reiterate that Mr. Danvers has never met you and I have been going by my previous name to avoid anyone remarking on our marriage.” There.
That ought to explain things nicely for both Teddy and Mr. Danvers.
“Too, he has been in my employ only a few months, since I purchased the villa this summer.”
“Since you purchased the villa—without me?” He made a show of glancing ’round the grand chamber. “Was I aware of these plans? You certainly felt at liberty to spend my money in my absence.”
Her smile evaporated, and she was grateful for the dim lighting, as it would be difficult for Mr. Danvers to discern the hot flush stealing up her cheeks. Spend his money, indeed.
“No, my lord,” she said, aware anyone with ears could tell she spoke through her teeth. “You were not aware, nor did I spend your money. As it happens, I have quite enough of my own.”
He arched his brows, clearly taken aback. “I see. Wealthy parents?”
She huffed and turned to Mr. Danvers. “Thank you, Mr. Danvers. I do not believe His Lordship will require any assistance making it up to his bedchamber. However, if you would kindly assist Thomas with Lord Arlington’s luggage?
You may deliver it to the guest chamber to the left of the landing.
And please ask Cook to prepare a cold collation for my husband and myself.
We missed dinner.” And, in her case, lunch.
“Of course, madam.” He sent Teddy a sardonic look and issued a crisp bow. “My lord.”
She wondered if she was the only who detected a note of sarcasm?
Teddy’s snort told her she was not. She might have a word with the butler in private tomorrow.
After Danvers departed, Teddy sauntered toward her. “Dinner sounds delightful, darling, as I could eat a horse. Beforehand, however, I could use a moment to refresh myself. Would you kindly point out our chamber?”
She blinked rapidly, swallowing hard, and pushed her spectacles higher up her nose.
She’d hoped he would take her hint when she instructed Mr. Danvers to have his luggage brought to a guest chamber.
No matter. She was prepared for this, having given the notion of their sleeping arrangements serious consideration throughout the long drive.
Still, it took a moment for her to compose herself enough to reply.
“If you’ll follow me?” She preceded him to the staircase.
Climbing the steps, she continued. “I thought, as you don’t actually remember me, and as you are in the process of recovering, you might feel more comfortable in your own chamber.
” Her voice pitched high on the last three words, and she thanked the heavens she was not facing him.
“How extremely considerate of you, my dear. No wonder I asked you to marry me.”
Feeling remarkably better after splashing cold water on his face and making use of the facilities—the villa had a separate bathing chamber.
He rather liked that—he made his way back down the stairs to meet his wife in the dining hall, the direction of which she had given him after showing him to his personal “guest” chamber.
He hadn’t seen that coming, especially after she’d run her blessedly cool fingers over his face and through his hair during the long drive, as if she could not get enough of touching him.
He had found her tender ministrations very pleasant, indeed, despite his drug-muddled state.
He could admit he’d been rather looking forward to the physical aspect of his marriage.
He wanted to see if the rest of his wife was as soft and welcoming as her touch.
His wife. He still could not quite believe he had one. Georgina. He wondered what he called her. Georgina, proper? Georgie? George?
Pet.
The one-word endearment rang in his head as if he’d spoken it aloud, and he froze, one booted foot on the landing. He closed his eyes, gripping the night-chilled banister, hard, searching his mind for more.
He cursed when nothing more came. Still, he would swear he’d just experienced a memory. Opening his eyes, he squared his shoulders and continued toward the hall.