9. Chapter 9
nine
D avid found Jenny an hour and a half later under the portico around back telling her mother and sister goodbye.
They hugged and laughed and hugged some more.
It was a touching scene but he was ready to spend some time alone with his wife, especially after Kit had monopolized her on the evening of her arrival, everyone had joined them in their wedding celebrations yesterday, and she had drunk herself into a stupor last night.
It wasn’t unreasonable to want to be alone with her.
Devonworth stood at attention by the carriage door, patiently waiting to help his wife and mother-in-law ascend into the carriage, and Harry slouched next to him.
But the women kept talking. David watched until he simply couldn’t anymore and stepped out of the shadow of the house to make himself known.
No one looked over. He cleared his throat and gained the curious attention of the groom tending the carriage horses.
The horses also gave him a welcoming snicker.
Dev looked over with a bemused smile and Harry spared him a sulking glance—the same expression he’d worn since David had dared to marry Jenny—but the party of Doves continued on oblivious to his presence.
In any ballroom in the country, David would be the center of attention by now, but not here outside his own home.
Taking a dignified breath, he dared to enter their sphere of awareness. His mother-in-law was the first to notice him. “David, darling, there you are.” She stepped toward him and enfolded him in a hug, engulfing him in a scented cloud of powder and wildflowers.
David couldn’t remember the last time he’d been embraced like this. He stood stiff and awkward, uncertain what to do with his hands. It didn’t seem proper to put his arms around her, but it also seemed unkind not to respond in some way. In the end, he patted her shoulder.
She drew back and gave him a blinding smile that was so like Jenny’s, he found his gaze drawn to his wife.
Jenny watched him silently, her earlier humor vanished.
He wanted to make her smile as Fanny was smiling, but for the life of him he didn’t know how to do it.
Back during the Season, he would have made some sarcastic observation about his brother or another stuffy aristocrat, but here in the real world he didn’t know what sorts of things made her laugh.
Instead, he turned his attention to the older woman observing him keenly and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Dove. I trust you slept well.”
“Please do call me Fanny now. We are family. You look very handsome this morning in your riding costume, doesn’t he, Jenny?”
“Yes, Mama,” his wife said in a soft voice, her gaze barely touching him.
“Look at your shiny boots. You are very strapping, aren’t you? I don’t think I noticed before how tall you are. Isn’t he tall, Jenny? And these shoulders.” She ran her hands over his shoulders as if to emphasize her point about their breadth.
“Mama, please.” Jenny’s voice was distressed, noticing his unease.
“Leave him alone. He’s as tall as he’s ever been.
” She crossed the gap between them to stand at his side and Fanny stepped back to her original spot.
His shoulders dropped with relief. He’d never been touched so much in the space of a single minute—well, outside of a tryst. It wasn’t unpleasant so much as it was strange.
It made him feel like a boy again, being held up for the doting inspection of some family member .
Fanny brushed off Jenny’s critique with a grin. “Oh, bother. You can’t tell me knee boots don’t make him appear taller.”
Jenny sighed and Dev stepped in to save him. “Good morning, Felding. I thought we’d leave without seeing you.”
David greeted both his friend and Cora and lied, “I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye. Also, I’ve come to collect my wife. I’ve yet to give her my wedding present.”
Cora and Fanny both gasped in surprise and Jenny stilled. “Oh, we must stay for that,” Fanny said.
Dev came to his rescue and said, “Unfortunately, we must be going. We’ve tarried the morning away.”
“Yes, Mama, we have to get home,” Cora said.
Fanny pouted but acquiesced. They spent a few more minutes saying goodbye and then Dev helped both Fanny and Cora into the waiting carriage.
David stood with Jenny to see them off before turning to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than earlier. Water and headache powder helped. Thank you.”
He nodded and offered his arm. “Shall we?”
She took it with some hesitation, and he led her to the stables. “You didn’t need to get me a gift.”
“Nonsense. You’re my bride. Of course you’re entitled to a gift.”
She was silent for a moment as they walked the path. “But why? This isn’t…a true marriage.”
“Is this your way of telling me that you don’t have a gift for me?” he teased.
She looked out to the forest in the distance before glancing up at him, her cheeks lightly blushed. She was so beautiful at that moment that he found himself short of breath. He shifted his focus to his feet so he wouldn’t trip over anything.
“I don’t,” she whispered, nibbling her lip. “I didn’t think you would want anything or get anything for me.”
“I’m jesting.” He covered her fingers on his arm and tried not to notice how his skin brushed hers. Neither of them was wearing gloves. “You’re certainly not required to get me a gift.” Strangely, though, he found that he wanted her to want to get him something.
But she was right. This wasn’t quite a true marriage, not in the way he suspected she thought of marriage. Though their arrangement was exactly what he had imagined his eventual marriage to be. It was a means to an end, an agreement that benefited both parties. A contract, not a relationship.
“I saw it and I wanted you to have it,” he explained.
She nodded and he led her into a large stable.
The doors on each end were open wide to the late morning sunlight.
Ten stalls lined each side of the wide corridor, all with an equine resident, except for the ones left empty by the carriage horses that drove Jenny’s family to the train station.
He led her to the stall with her present.
“A horse?” she asked.
“An Arabian yearling.”
“This is for me?”
“She’s yours.”
The horse wandered over curiously and put her nose out of the stall.
She had a beautiful gray coat and a soft, velvety nose.
He’d spent the last hour with her, so she recognized him immediately and nudged at him.
He stroked her nose while digging into his pocket for a sugar cube with his other hand.
“She’s beautiful,” Jenny said with awe in her voice. “I don’t know a thing about horses. ”
He shrugged and dug out another cube which he handed to her. “Well, then, you can learn. She’s a bit young still but a beauty already.”
Jenny nodded and reached out but when the horse moved to her hand she drew back, clearly afraid. “I don’t know what to do.” She laughed nervously.
“Here, hold your hand out.”
He took her hand in both of his and gently unfolded her fingers so they laid flat. He moved the sugar to the center of her palm and let her rest her hand on his as he held hers out. The horse eagerly snapped up the treat and Jenny laughed as she jerked her hand back, rubbing her palm on her skirt.
They watched her for a few more minutes and Jenny managed to stroke her neck a few times without getting frightened. Finally, she asked, “What’s her name?”
“The trainer calls her Millicent but you can change it to anything you like.”
“Millicent…Millie. I love that name. Let’s leave it.” She reached out, more comfortable now, and stroked the horse’s mane. “Hi, Millie.” The horse snickered in response. “I don’t know how to ride a horse,” she added.
He shrugged. “It’s easy enough to learn. Probably not with Millie, but we have an older, gentler mare that would be perfect.”
She nodded but still didn’t look over at him. They both knew she didn’t plan to be here long enough to learn to ride. “I don’t think I can take Millie to Paris.”
“No, likely not. She can stay here and you can visit.”
Jenny smiled but stayed silent as she stroked the horse’s velvet muzzle until Millicent got bored and went over to nose the oats that had been left for her.
Finally, his wife leaned on the gate and turned to him.
“I know nothing about horses, I can’t ride, and I have no way to keep her in Paris.
She seems slightly impractical. Tell me…
did you buy yourself a horse?” She seemed more curious than perturbed about the idea. A gentle smile curved her soft lips.
He swallowed. She wasn’t supposed to be this direct. “No, I wanted you to have her.”
He’d bought Millicent because she was beautiful and he wanted Jenny to have beautiful things.
But, also, he wanted her to have a reason to come back to Heathercote.
He couldn’t get it out of his head that when she left for Paris, she meant to never return here and he didn’t want that.
He wanted her to know that this was her home. That she’d always be welcome here.
But more than that, he wanted her to want to be here. Just like he wanted her to want to get him a gift.
Christ. This was madness. Why would she ever consider Heathercote her home? Why would she gift him something when they both knew this marriage was a transaction and a temporary one at that?
He closed his eyes to shut out the beauty of her face, the only reason he could imagine for this lapse into madness. When he opened them, she was still looking at him with a half-smile. “She’s not practical at all. Perhaps I can find you something better later.”
He turned to walk out. The gig he planned to use for their ride around the estate was being brought round.
“Lord David, wait.” She hurried behind him and placed her hand on his arm.
He glanced down at her fingers and then up to her face. “You don’t have to use my title,” he reminded her.
Her brow crinkled like she hadn’t thought of that. “David…” The word was halting, foreign to her on its own. “I was rude. I didn’t mean that I don’t appreciate her. ”
“I know what you meant.” He kept his voice light, sliding back into the charming persona she was accustomed to, and offered her his arm.
With the mask in place, it was so much easier to pretend she was any other woman at his side.
“Come, I want to take you on a tour of the property.” At her concerned expression, he added, offering his hand, “No horseback riding required. I’ll drive you in the phaeton. ”
She nodded and slid her hand into his. He squeezed slightly, enjoying the small intimacy.
Her palm was smooth and soft, and he might have closed his eyes a little as he walked and imagined her running her hands over him tonight.
But the thoughts sent a shot of desire straight to his cock and when it twitched to life, he abruptly let go of the mental image.
“Do you like Heathercote?” she asked as they emerged into the yard.
“I suppose I do.” He’d never really thought of it.
The place was home among all the other houses his family owned.
Beech and ash trees stood tall across the grass, standing sentinel at the edge of the forest that ran through the estate.
“I spent much of my boyhood here. Running through that wood.” He nodded toward the green copse. “Why do you ask? Do you like it?”
“I do. It’s much grander than I’d imagined, but I like it very much.”
He grinned. “You were imagining a rundown estate with crumbling stones and mildew?” She blushed and he knew he was right. “You were. You Americans tend to think we’re all impoverished.”
“Well, you English tend to think we’re all brash and uncultured.”
His smile broadened, unable to argue with her assessment. “All evidence to the contrary,” he teased.
She frowned, her brows drawing together in an adorable little mew. This moment with her reminded him of their discussions in the corners of various ballrooms, the teasing and slow give and take that their conversations tended to have. It felt comfortable.
“Not Kit,” he added to placate her. “He doesn’t think that…he likes you.”
Her expression relaxed into a true smile that lit her eyes. “He does. I like him, too.”
The jostling of the phaeton caught his attention as a groom drove it over. “Ah, our carriage awaits, milady.”