Chapter 11
ALEX LOOKED FORWARD to an evening spent alone with Tulip.
It was their first night at Thornwycke Hall and there were so many questions still to be answered. However, one concern could clearly be checked off the list because their cook was a marvel. The lamb stew he was now polishing off was among the best he had ever tasted.
Tulip smiled as they sat beside each other at the small table in the cozy winter dining room. “Mrs. Crabbe is a crusty, old crab, but she cooks divinely, doesn’t she?” she mentioned between mouthfuls.
Alex gave an enthusiastic nod. “I’ll say. Beats the tavern fare I used to have or anything Mrs. Gayle ever prepared for me.”
Tulip set down her fork, for she had devoured the contents of her plate and now patted her stomach as though she could not manage another bite. “What is our plan for tomorrow? Where are we going first?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Would it not be more efficient if we split our tasks?”
She frowned, obviously not liking the suggestion. “As we did within minutes of our arrival?”
He placed his hand over hers again, realizing he had to stop thinking efficiently and start thinking like a married man with a capable wife who wanted to be with him.
“That wasn’t fair of me to do that to you, was it?
But you knew Mr. Carver and seemed to be familiar with several of the servants, so I thought it would be all right if I left you in Mrs. Granger’s care.
She seemed friendly enough, and I knew she would confide in you if it was just the two of you chatting. ”
Tulip nodded. “You’re probably right. I did learn more about her and the goings on in this house.
She suggested I keep my belongings in the duchess quarters, so we unpacked them there and placed your belongings in the duke’s bedchamber.
I’ll need to hire a lady’s maid and you will need a valet, so it would be awkward to have us preparing for the day together.
How will either of us wash or dress while having both maid and valet in the room? ”
He cut himself a chunk of the freshly made bread. “Yes, I see.”
“However, there is a door between our rooms that I instructed must always be kept unlocked.”
“So that we may visit each other during the night?”
“I don’t want visits,” she insisted. “I would like to permanently share a bed with you. Yours. Not mine. I get odd sensations whenever I look at that duchess bed. I don’t know why, but cold shivers run up my spine.”
He gave her hand a light squeeze. “That’s all right then. You’ll sleep with me. I want you beside me every night, anyway. You are my wife, Tulip. You belong with me.”
She cast him a sweet smile. “I feel the same.”
“Well, that was easily resolved,” he said with a sense of contentment, for this was what he had hoped for in their marriage and had not expected to achieve it so fast.
That she did not like the duchess bed gave him little concern. It was likely the feeling of separation from him that she did not like, and not some ghostly presence.
He would have been willing to give Tulip the time she needed to get accustomed to him and their married life. Fortunately, it had not taken her any time at all to get comfortable with him.
In truth, a wedding night was all it took.
Perhaps this is what came of her having good and honest men in her life, for she approached their marriage with the intention of trusting him until he gave her a reason not to trust.
He never would.
Marrying Tulip was the best thing he could have done for himself.
On the other hand, he had been raised to trust no one, especially not his male relatives who would stab him in the back if he were ever to drop his guard.
But trusting no one was quite isolating and he had felt that starvation in his soul.
He was no hermit and wanted a family life as well as a circle of good friends. He had found those friends in Julius Thorne and his brothers, and had also grown to admire their wives. Perhaps this was why he had ached for a wife for himself.
But who could he trust, especially once it became known he was the new Duke of Davenport? Every debutante had a reason to lie to him to gain his favor.
Only one had ever run from him.
That was Tulip.
An inconvenience because he had fallen in love with her at first sight. Her every action in the ensuing months had shown his instincts were right and that he could trust her.
She was the wife he wanted.
At the moment, she did not look all that pleased with him because he was trying to be logical and efficient by dividing their tasks.
Was this not a good way of working together? Accomplishing twice as much in half the time.
Apparently, Tulip took ‘working together’ to mean they would actually stick to each other as they went about learning how this estate functioned.
“I can meet with Mrs. Gayle and review the running of the household any time over this coming week,” she argued when he foolishly tried to explain the logic in dividing their chores. “It doesn’t have to be done tomorrow. She is quite capable. I can leave her to continue things as they are.”
“While you tour the farms with me?”
She nodded. “This was our plan originally, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, because I did not expect Mr. Carver to be so competent. Fine, Tulip. So be it. You’ll join us. We’ll need to get an early start on the day because there is much to do. How about we retire to our quarters now?”
“Yes, I would like that. I have some reading to do.”
His eyebrow shot up. “That journal you were clutching in a death grip earlier in the study? Do you really think you will find anything of interest written in it?”
“I hope so. Actually, I am sure of it. At the very least, it will give us an idea of the workings of your grandfather’s mind.”
He grunted.
If this was his grandfather’s journal, it could consist of pages and pages of depraved thoughts and descriptions of orgies.
He did not know if there would be descriptions of more sinister acts.
The man was a renowned libertine, but had he gone beyond mere womanizing?
Taking willing ladies to bed was one thing, yet was there a darker side to him?
The locals called him eccentric, and he had been quite the charmer in his younger days.
But had he done things that would have gotten him imprisoned or hanged if he were not a duke?
“Tulip, perhaps I ought to read it first. There could be something upsetting written in that journal. In truth, lots of upsetting secrets confessed.”
“I’ll stop reading if it gets too lurid.”
He sighed. “You cannot unread something after you’ve read it. You were queasy at the mere idea of our inspecting the tower room in the afternoon, and now you think to lie in bed at night and read the journal of a man we know was the very definition of immoral? No, I’ll read it first.”
She frowned, but nodded. “All right.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Do not be angry because I wish to protect you from a darker side of life.”
“I’m not angry, merely…I don’t know. It’s just that I thought of the journal as my find. But it would upset me if there were horrible things written in it. Well, now I will have to find something else to read.”
“You noticed other books on our family history. Read those. They’ll be helpful to me, yet not so luridly descriptive of my ancestors as to weigh on your heart. I like that softness about you. I never want to see it destroyed.”
They retired upstairs, Tulip disappearing into the duchess quarters with Mrs. Granger who would assist her for this evening since she had yet to engage a lady’s maid.
Alex felt a tug to his heart when the door clicked shut between their bedchambers.
It was a stupid response because Tulip would open it up again in a few minutes.
And yet, it felt like an eternity.
Living here was going to be so vastly different than living in London, he realized while waiting for her to return.
It was obvious Tulip would require a maid assigned to attend to her daily needs.
He would require a valet, but not to assist him in dressing or washing or shaving.
He could manage those himself as he had always done.
But someone needed to attend to his clothes, make certain they were cleaned and pressed, and see that his boots were polished.
Those chores had been easily handled by Mrs. Gayle herself or by any number of nearby shopkeepers when he lived in London.
Thornwycke Hall was miles away from the nearest village, so he could not simply take a five minute walk to the local laundress or shoemaker.
He was himself partly undressed and had washed up by the time the door opened again and Tulip walked into his bedchamber.
She looked pretty with her hair down, and wearing a thin nightgown and robe. In her hands was one of the books on the Davenport family history.
Obviously, she wanted to hop into bed and read it.
He had taken off all but his shirt and trousers, for the hour was still early by London standards.
He hoped Tulip would prefer to sit with him beside the hearth and talk about their plans first. “All right, I like that idea. Mrs. Granger thoughtfully ordered a pot of hot cocoa delivered to me. It’s in the duchess quarters.
Let me bring it in. Would you like to share it with me? ”
“No, I have a bottle of brandy for myself.”
But he did not bother with the brandy this evening, for his mind was already in a spin and he did not need it to spin further with drink.
He watched Tulip pour the cocoa for herself. “Do you have the journal, Alex?”
He nodded. “It’s by the bed. Speaking of which, do you have a preference for a particular side of the bed to sleep on?”
She laughed. “No, you choose.”
“I’ll take the right side since it is closest to the door. But let’s not leap into bed yet.”
She had just taken a sip of her cocoa and coughed mirthfully. “I did not think I would ever hear you say that.”