Chapter 7
As the next week passed, Helena became used to the new routine of the new chapter in her life.
Polly brought her a rich cup of steaming coffee as soon as she awakened.
Either Ralph was continuing to steep it each morning, or he had trained Mrs. Jenkins how to make one excellent recipe—Helena strongly suspected the former, and her confusion as to why he did it continued to grow.
“Polly,” she asked one morning. “Does Mr. Aldine drink coffee every morning too?”
“Nay, he does not,” said Polly, leaving Helena even more perplexed about why he should take the trouble to make it for only her.
Finch continued her tireless industry to make over Helena’s gowns, and within a week she had let out an evening gown to fit Helena’s new proportions.
“These will only last a month or two,” said Finch severely, “and then your belly will be too great to hide, and you must get a whole new gown with more room to grow.”
Helena sighed, cupping her hands over her thickening waistline.
The continued delivery of sweet rolls from the village had not done her figure any favors, and she felt clumsy and heavy from the half a stone of extra weight she now carried about her middle.
But where was she to buy new gowns? There would be no French madam doing fittings on the Scottish border, and besides, the subject of pin money had not been brought up.
The most exciting event of the week occurred when Mr. Aldine had a desk delivered; it took the workmen nigh an hour to fit it up the narrow staircase into the bedroom opposite her own, and from a discreet spot behind the parlor door, Helena could hear them grunting and complaining about the weight of the solid oak piece as they painstakingly hoisted it up each mountainous stair.
A few days later some boxes of books arrived.
Helena assumed they must be from Mr. Aldine’s library in London.
She wondered if she should send to Geoffrey for more of her own things, but there was so little room in the house, she did not know where she would put them.
Her greatest wish was for her pianoforte, but that would never be able to travel so far without a good deal of effort and expense.
The meals improved a little in quality, although there was one very poor attempt at a duck confit that Helena feared she would never forget.
Mrs. Jenkins’ own attitude, however, continued to deteriorate, and Helena found herself ducking into the parlor as quickly as possible if she sighted Cook’s chin bristles in the hallway.
She supposed that Mr. Aldine must have spoken to Cook himself since she had been too cowardly to make the attempt. The shame of that cowardice made her blush each time that she remembered it. What must he think of her? She hardly dared to surmise.
Mr. Aldine, however, never referred to the matter again.
He continued to spend most of his time in his study or out of the house, leaving the parlor as her sole domain.
Helena suspected his afternoons were spent with Sir Anthony at the big house, but she was too shy to ask as much at dinner, and their conversation over supper continued its stilted quality.
On Monday evening, after a long lull in the conversation, Mr. Aldine said abruptly, “Should you like to do some shopping?”
“Oh, yes, I suppose,” said Helena, trying to conceal her agitation and excitement at the thought. “Finch says I need some new things.” She forced herself to look him straight in the eye. “Are there any dress shops in Carham?”
“There is one. I can’t vouch for the quality of it, but perhaps Lady Compton might know.”
“I can ask her,” said Helena, screwing up her courage to ask the real question on her mind. “If you please, Mr. Aldine, how exactly did Geoffrey settle my money? Am I to have an allowance?”
A pained look settled over his face. At first, she thought it was due to the topic she had broached, but it occurred to her later that it might have been her use of his surname.
He had instructed her a week ago to call him Ralph, but she could not—she could not! —use his Christian name so familiarly.
“Of course, you are to have your pin money, and anything you want in addition to that.” He gave a wry smile. “I think the question is more whether I am to receive an allowance, is it not?”
At this comment, Helena flamed scarlet to the very roots of her hair.
She was not so naive that she did not know a husband had full control of his wife’s money.
She also had no illusions about what fortune—or dearth of fortune—Mr. Aldine had possessed prior to their wedding.
Geoffrey may have tied up some of her dowry for later, but she was certain that he must have offered a portion to Mr. Aldine.
How else had he been induced to marry her?
“I’m sure, sir, that it is your right to use whatever funds you wish. Is that not part of the agreement?”
"The agreement?” Mr. Aldine leaned back in his chair. “I confess I’m not really sure what you mean by that, my dear. Could you explain?”
"I...” Helena was miserable now. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on her stomach for strength.
After all, it was for Will’s son that she had entered into this marriage, and it was for Will’s son that she must continue as his brother’s wife.
“I can only suppose that my dowry is the sole reason why you married me, so it would be strange if you should not have an allowance. A sizable one.”
“The sole reason?” He seemed incredulous.
Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “I can think of no other, Mr. Aldine.”
He rose from the table. She had never seen him overcome by so strong an emotion before, and she could only assume that it must be anger—anger directed at her.
“Then that is my fault, Mrs. Aldine, and one which I will strive to remedy in the future.” His tone was still perfectly correct, but there was a wild look in his eyes that Helena could find no name for. And what did he mean? What was his fault?
Reaching out, he took her hand. He raised it to his lips but paused a half-second before making contact with the back of it.
Turning it over he let his lips graze the inside of her wrist, all the while keeping his brown eyes fixed on her blue ones.
“Your obedient servant, my lady.” He released her fingers, and then he turned to leave the dining room while she sat at the table another ten minutes, stunned, trembling, and utterly bewildered.