Chapter Twelve
With Aubrey’s family due to arrive within the hour, Maeve took a last stroll through the house, checking every room with an eye toward the fine details.
Vases filled with freshly picked blooms positioned in the center of a table, a fold removed from the tieback of a drapery, a chair moved slightly to the left to better align with its companion, a framed landscape nudged ever so slightly to make it perfectly straight.
It was probably just as well that Mr. Tornquist had shown up and terrified her to the point that she’d jumped at the chance to marry Aubrey and be protected by him, for it probably would’ve taken Mrs. Nelson mere minutes to realize that Maeve was patently unqualified to run a house the size and scope of Paradis Trouvé.
Mrs. Nelson had been described to her as a “dragon lady,” and thoughts of how she might react to her youngest child’s marriage to the Irish housekeeper had kept Maeve awake long after Aubrey had fallen asleep the night before.
He’d tried to reassure her that everything would be fine, but the hollowed-out feeling in her stomach couldn’t be ignored.
They’d been fooling themselves these last few days, living as if they were the lord and lady of the manor when they weren’t.
His parents were, and soon they would arrive to the news that Aubrey had done much more than prepare the house for their arrival.
If the rumors about Mrs. Nelson’s famous temper were to be believed—and after seeing the wreckage brought about by the former staff, Maeve believed the rumors—this peaceful, sunny day was about to turn dark and stormy.
In the ballroom, she glanced up at the sparkling chandelier where there was nary a single cobweb to mar the glory of the gleaming crystals.
Thinking of the day Aubrey had startled her and then caught her when she fell off the ladder made her smile.
He was such a sweet man, even if misguided at times.
He’d tried to rescue her when she didn’t need rescuing, but then she had needed it, and he’d been quick to offer her his name and protection.
Her feelings for him were a jumbled mix of gratitude and desire and concern about what might be ahead for them. Would he tell his family why he’d felt compelled to marry her? They’d never discussed what he planned to tell them, and before they came, she needed to find him to ask him.
If they found out she’d killed a man . .
. Her stomach lurched, and she feared she might cast up her accounts into a potted palm.
She was so intent on finding him that she took a corner without looking and crashed into a hard wall of chest. Only his quick thinking kept her from falling from the impact.
“Wherever are you going with such haste, my dear?” His kind eyes danced with amusement as they so often did when he looked at her.
They laughed a lot, so much so that she wondered if it were normal to be so entertained by one’s spouse, even at the most intimate of times.
She couldn’t remember her parents laughing with each other and had no one else to ask if such things were normal. “Maeve? What is it?”
“I . . . I was looking for you.”
“Well, you found me. What’s wrong?”
“I was wondering about your family.”
“What about them?”
She swallowed hard, hoping the bile in her throat wouldn’t come rushing up to mortify her in front of her husband. “Are you going to tell them why you married me?”
“Why, yes, of course I will.”
Her stomach dropped. “Oh.”
With his hands on her face, he compelled her to look at him, which was certainly no hardship.
His handsome face had become one of her favorite things to look at.
“I’ll tell them I married you because after knowing you for a short time, I realized I would never be complete without you.
I’ll tell them I married you because I quite simply couldn’t live without you.
” He punctuated his tender words with a soft kiss that had her heart beating fast and her head swimming from the need to breathe.
“You won’t tell them about Mr. Farthington?”
“Not unless I absolutely have to, and I can’t imagine why I’d have to.”
Relief flooded through her, leaving her almost as breathless as his kiss had. “Thank you.”
“Please do not worry about anything, sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you.”
To her tremendous mortification, her eyes filled with tears that she tried to blink back, but they spilled down her cheeks anyway.
Aubrey kissed them away. “No tears, my sweet. Everything is going to be all right. You have me now. You’re not alone anymore.”
Maeve slid her arms around his waist, under the elegant gray coat he wore, and held on tight to him and his assurances.
They were still there when the sound of a throat clearing startled them apart.
“Pardon the interruption, Mr. Nelson, Mrs. Nelson.” Plumber glanced toward the foyer. “But the family is arriving.”
“Thank you, Mr. Plumber. We’ll be right there.” After the butler had walked away, Aubrey looked down at her, smiling. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Stay close.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be than close to you.”
When he said such things and looked at her with tenderness, her insides felt like they were full of butterflies in flight.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the foyer.
Mr. Plumber opened the big door for them, and they went outside to await the four carriages as they came through the ornate black wrought-iron gate.
The family had traveled on a steamship from the Fall River Line that conveyed passengers between New York and Boston, with stops each way at Newport’s Long Wharf.
There they’d been met by hired carriages for the journey up the hill to Bellevue Avenue.
Since Newport was located on the southern-most portion of Aquidneck Island, it was more convenient to take the steamship than the railroad that served the mainland.
Aubrey had explained the logistics to her the night before, while warning her that the travelers were apt to be weary after the overnight trip.
Maeve had taken the train from New York to Providence and a smaller ferry to Newport, which had been more economical than the deluxe accommodations the Nelson family had probably secured on the overnight boat.
Maeve marveled at how he’d settled her nerves and calmed her fears. Today, she’d worn the dress she’d been married in, hoping it would bring her the same luck it had on her wedding day. Watching the Nelsons pour out of the carriages, she had a feeling she would need all the luck she could get.
Watching his mother alight from the carriage, Aubrey was filled with dread.
He’d promised Maeve he would protect her, but the sight of his mother’s face reminded him of whom he was dealing with.
It would take all his considerable fortitude to manage this situation and ensure that no harm would come to his fragile union at the hands of his mother.
Next came his father, and Aubrey gasped at his obvious decline in the last few weeks. Aubrey’s mother shouted orders to anyone who would listen, instructing them to tend to her husband. Wiggie and Kaiser appeared, each of them offering an arm to Mr. Nelson to help him up the stairs.
Aubrey’s mother, Eliza, did a double take at the sight of the men. Even dressed in red livery, their rough edges were still readily apparent in their awkward, unpracticed movements.
“Mother.” Aubrey kissed both her cheeks in the European way she preferred.
Once upon a time, Eliza Nelson had been beautiful.
Now she would be considered attractive for her age with her blond hair gone brassy and deep lines around her mouth giving her the look of a perpetual frown.
Aubrey shook his father’s hand while Wiggie and Kaiser stood by in case they were needed.
“Father, it’s good to see you. Meet our new footmen, Wiggie and Kaiser.
Gentlemen, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson. ”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir, ma’am.” The men recited the line Maeve had instructed them to use when they met their employers.
“What happened to George and Tim from last summer?” Eliza breezed past Plumber and Maeve and into the house. His father followed behind her, moving much more slowly.
Aubrey offered his arm to Maeve as he followed his parents inside. “They left.”
As she removed her hat, his mother turned to him, her gaze zeroing in on Maeve’s hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. “They left?”
“The entire staff left at the end of last Season.”
“That is not true. Corrigan continued to pay their wages.”
“You would have to consult with Mr. Corrigan about that.” The family’s man of business took care of paying the household bills in New York and Newport.
“But I can assure you the staff departed en masse at the end of last summer. I have taken the liberty of hiring a new staff, including Mr. Plumber, our new butler.”
Plumber bowed in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m honored to be working at such a fine home.”
“And this is Maeve—”
“Ah yes,” Eliza said, “the housekeeper. The agency in New York informed us of your hiring.”
Aubrey and Maeve spoke at the same time.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“She’s no longer the housekeeper.”
Eliza eyed her youngest son. “I beg your pardon.”
“Maeve is no longer the housekeeper.” He put his arm around her. “As of a few days ago, she is my wife.”
Eliza stared at him for the longest time, during which Aubrey refused to blink.
His mother began to laugh. “You can’t be serious. You aren’t married to the Irish housekeeper.”
“I’m married to Maeve Sullivan Nelson, formerly of Dingle, Ireland.”
“Is this some sort of joke, Aubrey? Because I assure you, it’s not funny.” The laughter of a moment ago had been replaced by a fierce scowl.