Chapter Nine
Fitz woke the next morning when Thewlis came in to draw back the curtains. He was the bearer of a tray with a cup of Fitz’s morning favorite—strong black coffee. The drawing back of the curtains did not, however, let in an appreciable amount of light.
“Alas, it is raining today, captain,” Thewlis, ever lugubrious, intoned.
Fitz sat up in bed and retrieved his coffee from the bedside table where Thewlis had set it.
Ah, perfect. He doubted very much that anyone but Thewlis could make that important first cup of coffee in the morning exactly the way he liked it.
And it was still piping hot. He sipped it with a touch of caution and felt the hit of the caffeine tingle his nerve endings.
What a wonderful discovery coffee was. So much better than that insipid tea most ladies liked to drink.
Thewlis began to lay out his master’s clothes for the day, humming a little tune as he did so.
What reason did his valet have for being so cheerful all of a sudden?
Did he like it here? That would be a turn up for the books, as Thewlis was yet to like anywhere his master had lived, Denby Castle included.
“Would you like me to bring you warm water, sir?” Thewlis asked.
Fitz nodded. “Thank you, yes.” He’d retired to bed last night without so much as a wash and was feeling much in need of one.
A shave as well. Being so dark he could well have shaved twice a day had he been of a mind to.
He rasped a hand over his chin. Almost the makings of a beard, which would never do.
Ladies, in his experience, did not like having their faces sandpapered when being kissed.
Not that he was optimistic enough to assume he might be able to render such a service to his new young wife.
At least, not quite yet. Instinct had warned him that pushing himself on her before she was ready would not be a good idea, and, to his surprise, he’d been in agreement with instinct.
Thewlis departed in search of water, and Fitz relished some more of his coffee, beginning to feel more human, although at least he didn’t have a hangover this morning.
His gaze, without being instructed, wandered to the door on the far side of the window that would no doubt give entry into his wife’s rooms.
Last night he’d been tempted to try the handle, just to see if it would open or not, but had thought better of it.
Georgiana, who had made it all too clear she didn’t expect him to be paying her a nocturnal visit, would have heard him and known what he was about.
He would try it, just for his own curiosity, when he knew she wasn’t likely to be on the other side of the door listening.
This not wanting her to feel he was pushing himself on her was a state of affairs he was unused to.
A state of affairs that was making her all the more attractive to him.
A state of affairs that could be described as titillating.
However, for some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to treat her in the way he was accustomed to treating his women, who in the main--well, all of them— ad liked his rough wooing very much.
Maybe it was due to the conditions under which he and Georgiana had met and been married.
Maybe it had something to do with her condition, although he had pursued a relationship with the pregnant wife of an absent fellow officer once, secure in the knowledge that neither of them would be caught out by an unexpected pregnancy.
Thewlis returned by the time he’d finished his coffee and after a good wash and a shave, Fitz dressed, with Thewlis’s aid, as the man was adept at tying a fancy cravat, and descended the stairs to the breakfast room.
To his surprise, Georgiana was already present, nibbling a slice of toast and drinking hot chocolate.
All of the women he’d ever known had liked to spend a large part of the morning reclining in bed.
And, further to his surprise, she greeted him with a smile that was both welcoming and friendly, as though he were her husband in more than name.
Even though she’d made it clear last night that was all he was to her when she’d wished him a polite good night on the landing outside his room.
Not that he’d been considering pressing his attentions on her.
Yet... He’d had to shelve the impulse to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately and awaken the passion her deceased lover had clearly managed to discover.
He had to remember that he was attracted to any woman with a modicum of prettiness, especially ones that seemed hard to get, and, if he was honest, possibly all women, so it was not a surprise to find she already had a hold over him.
But none of those previous attractions had ever come to anything, as his attention span in a relationship, according to one of those disgruntled and about-to-be abandoned ladies, was on a par with that of the goldfish in her garden pond.
As a consequence, he felt sure this initial attraction to Georgiana would fade and she would soon cease to be alluring to him, and take up the dutiful role he felt a wife should have.
Mistresses were for the fun of physical attraction and bedroom romps, wives for producing plenty of heirs, and at least she’d proved she was capable of this.
Although he had to acknowledge she was damned pretty sitting there in a somewhat out-of-fashion sprigged muslin day dress with her hair artfully arranged by that hatchet faced maid of hers. Damned pretty indeed. Prettier by the moment, in fact.
Best to keep things formal. He smiled and bowed. “Good morning, Georgiana. I trust you slept well.” He sat down at the head of the table, as was his right, which left her seated to his left. He could smell her perfume. A heady scent. Distracting.
She gave a little nod of her head. “Very well, thank you, husband.” Her eyes were twinkling in a way many would have considered roguish.
Damn it. He must not allow himself to be beguiled because it would not last. It never did.
If he viewed her from the start as strictly a means to an end, that would be better for them both.
But she was very tempting.
The footman brought him devilled kidneys and he picked up his knife and fork.
Georgiana waved an imperial hand at her manservant. Their manservant. “You may go. I will pour coffee for my husband.”
And they were alone.
She set down her half-eaten toast. “I wished to be alone so we could have a private discussion. Yesterday was not a day for raising the subject of our future life together. But I feel today we need to lay our rules of engagement out.”
Good heavens. How formal. This was a different girl to yesterday. He’d thought her quite a passive and quiet young lady at the church and the inn, but now?
However…how could he object to making things clear between them? He nodded. “A good idea.” Perhaps it would indeed be better to have certain rules. Although, not knowing what sort of rules she would demand had the effect of putting him off his food. He laid down his knife and fork. “Go on.”
She inclined her head in what looked suspiciously like satisfaction, her eyes sharp as those of his mother.
Which was razor sharp. He had an uncomfortable feeling this was a young lady who liked to have her own way and had been hiding it.
Had he managed to get himself shackled to a more youthful version of the redoubtable Lady Elizabeth Carlyon?
She pressed her lips together for a moment as though considering her words. “There are a number of subjects I wish to raise.”
“I too.” Better get his own oar in there. He didn’t want her thinking she had the upper hand, even if she did.
Another nod from her. “Firstly, the door between our bedrooms will remain locked. I have married you for convenience, not for love, and I intend to maintain my distance, at least for the foreseeable future.”
A red rag to a bull, although she hadn’t said forever.
Fitz inclined his head. “As you wish.” But what he was really seeing here was a challenge.
Could he make her want to unlock that door and accept him into her bed?
Might he be tempted to treat her as a difficult-to-woo potential mistress?
The very fact that she so obviously did not want him had the effect of making this a resolution; the unattainable had always been something he went out of his way to conquer.
She seemed pleased at his apparent acquiescence so probably she hadn’t guessed his thoughts.
She smiled. “Good. However, despite this arrangement, you and I need to be seen as a married couple. We should go out together into society, something I have not had the opportunity to do, but would like to. And we should hold a celebratory ball to announce our marriage. Do you agree?”
“That all sounds like fun.” He returned her smile. “Most certainly I agree. It would be a pleasure to host a ball with you.”
Wouldn’t it just? He’d be sure to invite his uncle and that youthful second wife of his, even though she was increasing yet again, and all the men he’d owed money to.
In fact, he’d have fun inviting all the people who’d annoyed him for any reason in the past. Showing off that he’d married a wealthy heiress would be an ideal start to married life.
She smiled again as though satisfied with the way this conversation was going.
“I have never been to a ball, something I’ve always wanted to do.
” For a moment, her dark eyes lost their sharpness and became instead open and candid.
The maturity she was clinging to so fiercely dropped away, and she had a look of the innocent schoolgirl she must once have been.
Only of course she wasn’t innocent at all or she wouldn’t have had to marry in such a hurry.