Chapter 18
W
“I might never be a master at repairing thatch, but I’ve learned to be a good assistant. When the Mortensens’ roof was finally finished, I sat back in wonder at what my hands could do.”
Over the next few days, David and I established a routine. He would work most of the day in his study or ride out to see some of the tenants, and I would only see him at dinner or on the occasions where he came out to see the progress Julia and I had made on the orchard.
After dinner, he would spend time with Mama, Julia, and me in the drawing room, and it was there he would be the most affectionate.
Not always physically, but his words were laced with an endearing quality that charmed me throughout the evening until he walked me to my bedchamber when it was time to retire.
Outside my door, he would offer the most formal of good nights, and even on the days where he’d plant a kiss on the top of my head in front of Mama, he did no more than offer me a short bow at night.
The small part of me that was led to hope in the drawing room died night after night outside my door.
This evening, after we finished dinner, instead of leading me to my room, he asked me to join him in his study. I nodded and followed him into the room I saw him enter and exit multiple times a day but that I’d never seen inside.
The study was lined with deep wood, and an ornate desk sat near the window. Papers were spread about the top of it, and a few books and an inkwell filled the rest of the space. He took my hand, strode over to his desk, and bade me sit.
He pulled out a sheet of paper and placed it in front of me. “I have our marriage documents all in order. It is time to write to your solicitor.”
I turned and smiled at him, and he half sat on the desk to see me better.
“Happily,” I said and started my letter.
After a moment, he pointed to what I was writing. “Don’t you think you should include some details about how dashing and kind your new husband is?”
Dashing and kind were excellent descriptors. I put them in.
When I finished, I folded the letter and handed it to him. “You are an excellent husband. I could have written more wonderful things about you, but I didn’t want to look suspicious.”
“You should have. I would have loved to read them, and I believe brides are forgiven for doting on their new husbands.”
Time and time again, he’d proven what an extraordinary husband he would be, to me or any other woman of his choosing, and it grated on me that his father was keeping him from such happiness.
“How old were you when you decided you would never marry?” I asked.
David looked up from the letter in surprise. After my disastrous question on our marriage day, I’d avoided asking anything about the conditions of our marriage.
“I was nineteen.”
“Did your father do something terrible that day?”
David shook his head. “No, he was already living in London.”
“Then what made you decide such a thing?”
He looked me in the eye, leaned forward, and said the last thing I ever would have expected. “I’m afraid a large part of the decision at that time was vanity and pride.”
I furrowed my brows. “Really?”
He put my letter down on his desk and took both of my hands in his before lifting me from his chair.
Once I was standing, he dropped his hands to his side and just stood there looking at me.
“Remember, I was only nineteen, and vanity and pride were very critical reasons. I wasn’t as humble as I am now. ”
“Humble?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and reaching for the letter I’d given him. “Should I add that to dashing and kind in my letter?”
He pulled it away from me. “No need. Your letter is lovely as is. Besides”—he groaned softly—“it probably isn’t true.
I’m afraid those two vices still have a firm grip over me, but in my case, they did serve a good purpose.
After I determined to never marry, I saw the wisdom in it, and each year, my resolve grew stronger.
By the time I saw you again, I no longer even questioned my reasoning. It was a good plan.”
I grimaced. “Until I ruined it?”
He laughed. “No, not ruined. You made it better. With you, I get to see some of what it would be like to have a marriage. It is more than I ever expected to have.”
“If you wanted”—I touched the edge of his lapel—“I could become an extremely unpleasant wife and make you feel better about being alone in your old age.”
He shook his head, and his laughter deepened. “No, I really don’t think you could.”
“You only say that because you don’t know me very well.”
He placed his hand over mine and pressed it firmly against his heart.
“We both know that isn’t true.” The way he looked at me made me feel well known indeed.
And even though his answers didn’t make sense to me, I could feel the truth in them.
Which meant my husband had secrets I didn’t know about yet, and they were secrets he would rather not reveal.
Someday, I hoped he would share them with me, but I wouldn’t drag them from him.
My eyes slid down to his lips. Should I kiss him as my reward for being brave enough to ask about his past? He hadn’t minded any kisses thus far, and I was being very good and not pressing him to reveal more than he was willing to share.
I lifted onto my toes and leaned forward. His eyes widened in surprise, but his free hand went to my waist.
And then there was a rap at the door, and Mr. Stoddard, the butler, stepped into the study without waiting for an answer. He immediately reddened at the sight of us. With a stuttered word about the wine stores, he quickly turned and left.
David’s arm was still around my waist, but after a few seconds of indecision, he dropped it. Blasted butler. Couldn’t he have found some other time to speak to David about the wine?
David cleared his throat. “I have one more thing for you.” He strode to the corner of the room, where a large box sat. He picked it up and handed it to me. Despite its size, it wasn’t very heavy. “Julia bought you something.”
“Julia did? I asked.
“Yes.” He put a hand on the back of his neck. Was he nervous? What exactly was in this box? “Or rather, we both did. But it isn’t only from me.”
I set it down on his desk, untied the thick ribbon wrapped around its middle, and lifted away some tissue paper, bringing an instant grin to my face. Dark-blue wool and black buttons stared back at me.
“Do you think Mama will allow me to accept this? From a man?” I asked.
“I told you it is from me and Julia.”
I pulled the coat out of the box. “This is a much more suitable color than green.”
“I thought so too,” he said. “Blue has always brought out the fire in those stormy walnut eyes of yours.”
“Did Julia say that?”
“No.” He shook his head. “She isn’t as poetic as I am. She only said it would look lovely with your dark hair. You’ll have to thank her in the morning. I’ll walk you to your room.”
I nodded, knowing full well I wouldn’t get kissed after he made that statement.
m
Two days after David sent my letter to the solicitor, Julia and I spent the afternoon working on the orchard. We’d picked a naturally wild spot not far from Tate Hall. It had a stream running through it, which we could use to make a pond.
David had ordered plum trees as well as two pear trees and a fig tree.
The fig tree had been Mr. Allen’s idea, and Julia’s eyes had lit up at the idea of it.
David claimed he needed to go over accounts and other estate plans every morning, but by afternoon, he often meandered out to us or found us in the library going over our ideas.
Much to my chagrin, we’d decided against flowers.
Flowers would have given Julia much more time out of doors than her small orchard would, but flowers hadn’t excited her like fruit trees had, and I’d pressed the idea of the pond, which she seemed more in favor of.
If she didn’t have flowers to keep her outside, perhaps David could make a boat, and a boat would provide more outdoor activities for the two of them.
Walter and Anders were indeed glad to be hired to prepare the land, and since it was too early to plant trees that hadn’t even arrived yet, we’d started clearing the ground for the pond.
We’d been working for over an hour when Julia decided to try to pull out one of the larger gorse bushes on her own.
“I’ve got the Mortensen boys to do that,” Mr. Harris, the gardener, said, coming up behind Julia as she struggled. Mr. Harris’s advice on location and planning had been invaluable, even if he huffed any time Julia or I put on gloves to help with clearing the land ourselves.
I left the spot of ground where I’d been pulling grasses and came up beside Julia. “Mr. Harris, we will be helping, and we will be getting our aprons dirty. We’ve gone over this several times before.”
Mr. Harris’s deep, wrinkled face curved into a frown, but I was the lady of the house now, and even though he’d grumbled at some of my suggestions, he always did as I asked.
It was a strange thing to be listened to and respected.
I had David to thank for that. All the servants were extremely loyal to him and Julia and, therefore, to me as well.
He huffed. “At least wait until the boys get a bit more digging done around that bush before you start pulling on it. I won’t have the young miss straining herself because of their lack of preparation.”
“Of course.” I waved Walter over. He came jogging up to us, shovel in hand. “Can you loosen the roots of this gorse?” I asked.
Walter nodded and gave me one of his toothy grins, then stuck the shovel into the ground and jumped on it with all his weight. Mr. Harris gave the boy a satisfied nod, then left to help Anders several yards away.