Falling for His Practical Wife

by Laura Martin

  He was about to try to salvage the situation when she turned her head away from him and pulled on his arm so they walked rapidly up the aisle of the church and into the sunlight outside.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Lady Hummingford said, kissing her daughter on the cheek, her posture stiff.

  The whole scene was rather awkward and Leo was surprised to see Annabelle lower the veil over her face again, only understanding at the last moment when he saw the moisture of tears in her eyes. It was her wedding day and she was holding back the tears.

  * * *

  ‘We should start our journey to Five Oaks,’ Mr Ashburton said. ‘The journey is only an hour, but it will be good to get settled in.’

  Annabelle nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her throat felt as though it was swelling and she knew if she tried to utter a word it would come out raspy and garbled. So much had changed in a matter of a few hours. A very underwhelming few hours. For some reason she had expected something more, but Mr Ashburton had summed it up perfectly when he’d said, Well, that’s done now.

  After bidding farewell to her mother, she climbed up into the waiting carriage followed by her new husband. They had returned briefly to Willow House to change out of their wedding attire into more comfortable clothes for travelling and to bid farewell to Lord Abbingdon, who had not been able to make the wedding.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes as the carriage picked up speed on the open road.

  Eventually Mr Ashburton cleared his throat and waited for her to look at him before speaking.

  ‘I will see you settled at Five Oaks, then tomorrow I must return to London.’

  ‘So soon?’

  ‘Mrs Barnes, my housekeeper, will ensure you have everything you need.’

  Annabelle nodded. She wasn’t even sure she was upset, but it did feel a bit as if he was dumping her in the house and fleeing as soon as possible.

  ‘I will be away a week, perhaps a little longer.’

  She wondered if he planned on getting to know her at all. She had never envisioned long walks in the countryside arm in arm, or cosy evenings by the fire, but she had thought he would perhaps want to spend a few days together, to introduce her to her new life.

  Quietly Annabelle sighed. Perhaps it would be better this way. She could find her place at Five Oaks without worrying what her new husband thought all the time. By the time he returned she would be at least partially settled in.

  ‘Is something amiss, Lady Annabelle?’

  ‘We are married, Mr Ashburton—perhaps you could call me Annabelle?’

  He nodded stiffly and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to reciprocate the offer to use first names. ‘My given name is Leonard—’ he paused, hesitating for a moment ‘—but my brother, my family, call me Leo.’

  It sounded too familiar, too relaxed for the stiff man sitting across from her, but it was better than calling her husband Mr Ashburton all the time.

  Content with her small victory at becoming a little closer to Leo, she sat back and stared out of the window of the carriage. ‘Gosh, look at the sky.’

  Gone was the brilliant blue, cloudless sky of an hour earlier. The clouds had rolled in and outside was darkening quickly.

  ‘It is all that heat, we’re well overdue a summer storm.’

  Annabelle leaned forward, looking with interest at the heavy clouds and almost exclaiming in delight as the first flash of lightning lit up the sky.

  ‘You like extremes of weather?’

  ‘I find storms fascinating. There was a book in the library at Birling View that detailed the most extreme weather conditions ever recorded. One was a storm that caused thirty shipwrecks in the English Channel alone.’ Slowly she sat back in her seat after catching sight of Leo’s expression. He looked both surprised and indulgent, as if he were an older brother listening to his younger sister’s unimportant ramblings.

  ‘I hope this storm isn’t enough to make the record books,’ he murmured.

  Watching as the rain started to fall in earnest, she occupied herself by counting the seconds between the lightning flashes and the peals of thunder.

  The storm was short, at least overhead, but the rain continued even once the thunder and lightning had passed on. In the heavy rain the carriage slowed and Annabelle spared a thought for the unfortunate coachman sitting exposed and the horses having to tramp through the thick mud on the roads. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as the rain brought a chill to the air that hadn’t been there before.

  ‘Have my jacket,’ Leo said, shrugging it from his shoulders and holding it out.

  ‘I couldn’t. You’ll get cold.’

  ‘I insist.’

  After another moment’s hesitation she took it, slipping her arms into the sleeves and catching a hint of her husband’s scent. She was just about to thank him when the carriage jolted unexpectedly and she almost flew from her seat. Leo shot out an arm to catch her, gripping her thigh through her skirt.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked as the carriage settled to a stop.

  ‘No.’ Her voice was shaky and her heart was pounding in her chest from the shock of the sudden movement, but other than that she was fine.

  ‘Good.’ He glanced down at his hand on her leg and slowly removed it, as if worried she would collapse on to the floor. The pressure from his fingers had been strangely comforting, but she was made of sterner stuff than he gave her credit for. She wouldn’t crumple at a few jolts in the carriage. ‘Wait here while I see what is happening.’

  Before she could hand him back his jacket he had jumped from the carriage and she heard the faint murmurings as he discussed the situation with the coachman. Annabelle peered through the window, trying to make out what had happened without getting too wet. They were in the middle of nowhere, some tiny country lane in the depths of Kent. If the carriage had lost a wheel or broken an axle, help would be a long way away.

  She sat back as Leo reappeared, shaking the water from his head as he climbed back in. He was soaked through, his white shirt almost transparent and sticking to his body. Momentarily she was distracted by the outline of his biceps in his shirtsleeves and had to force herself to pay attention to what he was saying.

  ‘The wheels are stuck in the mud. It’s surprisingly thick given it’s been such a dry summer until now.’

  ‘Do you think the horses will be able to pull us out?’

  Leo grimaced, running a hand through his wet hair and spraying her with raindrops.

  ‘Not with us in it.’

  The rain was still pelting down in force and Annabelle could see what one minute out in the downpour had done to her husband, but she wasn’t so precious she would insist on staying in the dry while the coachman struggled with the horses in the storm.

  ‘I’m happy to step down,’ she said, giving the brightest smile she could muster. It would be a matter of minutes and it couldn’t be that far to Five Oaks where she could change her clothes and get dry.

  ‘Are you sure? We can sit it out if you would prefer.’

  ‘Nonsense. I’m sure with the carriage lighter the horses will have us on our way in no time at all.’

  As she stepped out of the carriage she regretted her decision immediately. At least until she saw the unfortunate coachman covered in mud and straining to push the carriage from behind, soaked to the skin. For a long moment they watched as the horses strained and the coachman pushed, but the mud held tight to the wheels. Now she was outside Annabelle could see a little better what had happened. It would seem they were crossing a ford, the road dipping lower with a constant trickle of water crossing it even in the summer. Somewhere upstream a bank must have collapsed in the rain, sending a torrent of mud down that had collected on the road and then sucked in the carriage wheels.

  ‘It’s not moving,’ she murmured, surprised to see Leo stride forward and add
his shoulder to the back of the carriage. As he pushed she could see every muscle in his body tense and tighten and she couldn’t help but wonder how he kept such a perfect physique. She knew many men of his class fenced or boxed, but she couldn’t see her conservative husband enjoying either of those sports. Perhaps there was a side to him she couldn’t imagine yet. For a moment she remembered how his body had felt on top of hers when he’d launched himself at her on the clifftop and felt herself grow hot inside. It was the first close contact she’d ever really had with a man and she wondered if it was acceptable to admit she found her husband attractive, even if he had made it very clear their marriage would not be a physical one.

  Little by little the carriage inched forward and Annabelle held her breath, hoping it would suddenly jolt free. It seemed to be almost there, but the men were slipping in the mud and the horses struggling with the prolonged effort. The rain was easing a little, but she was already soaked to the skin and she didn’t fancy walking a few miles to the nearest village to seek sanctuary. She glanced down at her cotton dress, already splattered with mud, the hem sodden. A little more mud wouldn’t make much of a difference to it, already it was probably unsalvageable. At least she had changed out of the expensive silk dress after the wedding.

  After shrugging off the last of her indecision she hurried forward and planted her feet squarely in the mud, feeling it ooze over the top of her thin shoes immediately.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Helping.’

  ‘Go back to the road.’

  She didn’t respond to his order, instead braced her hands against the back of the carriage, gritted her teeth and began to push with all her strength. At first she slipped and slid, but after a minute she managed to lodge her feet against something solid and push against the carriage. The muscles in her arms began to ache and her feet had gone numb and Annabelle felt foolish for believing that her petite form could make a difference. Still, she wasn’t going to give up and redoubled her efforts alongside the two men, almost shrieking in delight as the carriage jolted forward and then rolled out of the mud and on to the other side of the ford.

  Annabelle hadn’t been expecting the sudden movement and felt her feet dislodge and start to slip from under her. Leo’s hands reached out for her and he grabbed her by the dress, but the momentum of the movement added to the slippery ground underneath their feet meant that he lost his balance and went tumbling into the mud and water of the ford, pulling her on top of him.

  They were both drenched to the skin, their summer attire no match for the storm or the mud, and Annabelle felt herself flush as their bodies pressed together. With their clothes soaked by the rain it was as if nothing was separating them. His skin was cool to the touch and the muscles underneath firm and absently Annabelle trailed her hand over her husband’s chest, fascinated by the outline of his pectoralis major muscles. She loved anatomy books, had spent hours looking at the intricately drawn pictures and could name every muscle in the body, but never had she seen such a perfect living illustration as Leonard Ashburton.

  Grimacing, Leo took her by the arms and hoisted her off him, setting her on her feet before scrambling to get out of the mud himself. With a growl of distaste he looked down at his sodden garments, covered in mud to the waist.

  Annabelle couldn’t help herself—she giggled.

  Leo turned to look at her with an eyebrow raised and Annabelle clamped a hand over her mouth, but he looked so ridiculous standing there with his superior expression, his face covered in splatters of mud. The laugh burst through her hands and soon she was giggling so much her stomach muscles began to hurt.

  ‘Please, share the joke, Annabelle,’ he said, his voice witheringly serious.

  She pressed her lips together and tried to compose herself, but couldn’t maintain a straight face for more than a few seconds.

  ‘I think the chill has gone to your head,’ Leo muttered, taking her by the elbow and escorting her back to the carriage. Up front the coachman was checking the horses and the bindings, but it wasn’t long before they were ready to leave.

  ‘I’m getting your beautiful carriage muddy.’ Annabelle looked around in despair, finally able to put the comical sight of her husband from her mind.

  ‘I think that is the least of our worries. The carriage can be cleaned.’

  ‘As can we.’

  Leo looked at her for a long moment and then nodded. ‘I suppose you are right.’

  Chapter Seven

  Dear Josh,

  Do you remember that story our tutor used to tell us about the monster from the swamp? Today I fear I resembled that monster more than just a little.

  Leo had to suppress a groan as they drew up outside Five Oaks. The staff had assembled outside the front door, ready to properly welcome their new mistress to the house. Their new mistress who looked as though she had spent the day wallowing in the swamp. Not that he looked any better. His trousers were uncomfortably heavy with the weight of the mud and his white shirt was soaked through and splattered.

  ‘The staff are outside,’ Annabelle said, the horror apparent on her face.

  ‘Mrs Barnes is a traditionalist. She will want to welcome you to your new home.’

  Annabelle’s hand drifted to her head, but the veil that had covered her face must have been dislodged while she was in the mud, pushing the carriage.

  ‘I don’t suppose it matters,’ she muttered almost imperceptibly to herself. Leo was about to step down from the carriage when he noticed a glint of tears in his wife’s eyes. Annabelle had struck him as a strong person, not the sort of woman to fuss or swoon at the slightest provocation, yet here she was almost crying at the thought of greeting her new servants looking as though she’d been bathing in mud.

  Stiffly he reached across the gap between them and took her hand, noting with a grimace how she flinched at his touch.

  ‘Annabelle,’ he said, trying to soften his voice as much as he could, ‘how you look does not matter. You are the mistress of this house and a few splatters of mud are not going to change that.’

  She gave a tiny nod and he squeezed her hand.

  ‘I’m not going to lie to you and say they won’t gossip and talk about this over their dinner, but what does it matter really?’

  ‘My mother always said having the respect of the staff is vital.’

  ‘She isn’t wrong, but when they look at you they are going to see a woman standing tall despite being covered in mud, who helped push our carriage loose instead of standing feebly by watching.’

  He saw her posture straighten a little. Her shoulders dropped and her chin raised up a notch.

  ‘Come on. Let’s face them together.’

  He jumped down from the carriage, turning back to help her, only appreciating how caked in mud she was as she unfolded through the doorway. Her dress had been a simple cotton garment, perfect for such warm weather, but now was soaked through and muddy up to the waistline. He doubted even the most fastidious of maids would be able to restore it. He would have to organise for a dressmaker to visit to provide her with a few new pieces for her wardrobe to make up for it.

  Looking up, he saw all of the servants transfixed by Annabelle. The maids and footmen were wide eyed and even Mrs Barnes looked shaken by his new wife’s appearance.

  ‘Lady Annabelle, may I present your new home.’

  All the servants managed to curtsy or bow and Mrs Barnes stepped forward to take charge of the situation.

  ‘This is Mrs Barnes, the housekeeper.’

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Barnes, I hope you’ll share all the secrets of Five Oaks with me.’ Despite her wobble in the carriage Leo was surprised to see his wife smiling serenely at the housekeeper as if she were totally in control of the situation. He felt a flicker of respect for her. Annabelle might have been shut away for years from society and the public eye, but she had been
raised as the daughter of an earl and had the knowledge of how to act even if she hadn’t put it into practice before. For a moment he just watched her before remembering he was also standing covered in mud and soaked to the skin.

  ‘A bath, perhaps, sir?’ Michaels, his valet, murmured as he approached.

  ‘Might be a good idea.’ The thought of sinking into a tub of hot water sounded like absolute heaven. ‘Fill one for Lady Annabelle in her bedroom as well.’

  He strode over to Annabelle who was asking the names of the maids and repeating them, trying to commit each name and face to memory.

  ‘Come inside and we can clean up. I’m sure Mrs Barnes can introduce everyone properly tomorrow.’

  She was shivering, the movement almost imperceptible, but he drew her to him all the same. Not that his skin had much warmth to share, but he pressed her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her inside.

  ‘It’s a beautiful house.’

  ‘Yes, I think so. When I started to run the estates for my great-uncle he let me choose one of his properties to have as my own. Five Oaks isn’t as grand as some of his other estates and residences, but it has something special about it.’

  He could see she was eager to explore and he felt an unfamiliar urge to show her round, to take time to answer her questions about his home that was now hers, too. It would have to wait. If she stood shivering in that sodden dress much longer, she would catch a chill and spend the first week of her married life in bed.

  ‘The maids will fill a bath in your bedroom for you.’

  ‘And you?’

  For an instant he couldn’t help but imagine sinking into a hot bath with his new wife. He had to cough to cover his surprise—he hadn’t thought of anyone in that way for a long time—and quickly tried to think of something other than Annabelle stepping from her dress and beckoning him to come join her in the bubbles.

  ‘Michaels, my valet, will see I have a bath in my quarters.’