The Lady Travelers Guide to Happily Ever After

by Alexander, Victoria

  “Even so—”

  James sank back in his chair. “I’d do it for you.”

  Marcus laughed. “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “I expect better from you,” James said in a lofty manner.

  “My apologies for disappointing you.” Marcus grinned. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “I think Violet intends to torture me for the next three years.”

  “In the event she doesn’t drive you mad?”

  “It’s a two-pronged attack.”

  “You haven’t seen each other for nearly six years. A period of adjustment is to be expected. It’s only been a little over two weeks, after all.”

  “Two long, endless weeks.” Two weeks in which, aside from anything else, he’d had very little sleep.

  How could he sleep when he was so very aware of her presence in the room next to his? Awareness that led to all sorts of thoughts. To wicked, longing desires. And his dreams. Good God. If he wrote them down, they’d be banned. And rightfully so. Every night he’d had to take himself in hand just to relieve the aching need.

  “I haven’t heard from Mrs. Higginbotham so I’m assuming you’re abiding by the terms of the will regarding the necessity of public appearances.”

  James jerked his attention back to his friend and nodded. “Mrs. Higginbotham has given us a great deal of leeway in that regard. Apparently an early-morning ride in the park—entirely too early by the way—counts as a public appearance even though we have yet to run into anyone we know. So every morning—we ride.”

  Marcus’s brow rose. “How early?”

  “Dawn.” He shuddered. “The first time Violet pounded on my door, the sun was barely on the horizon. I thought the house was on fire.”

  Marcus choked back a laugh. “You’ve never been fond of early mornings unless they were a continuation of the night before.”

  “Those days are over.”

  Admittedly, their morning rides were surprisingly enjoyable and an invigorating way to start the day. It had been his experience that riding with ladies in the park was a dignified, tranquil, relatively boring experience and good for little more than engaging in conversation. With Violet it was another matter entirely. As there were few people in the park during their early-morning outings, she felt free to alternate between brisk canters and spirited gallops. Yesterday, she had even challenged him to a race. Worse, she had beaten him, which he claimed was only due to his innate sense of chivalry. Her eyes had flashed with delight and she’d said he was rather endearing in his self-delusion.

  “So Lord and Lady Ellsworth have yet to appear at a social engagement?”

  “Mrs. Higginbotham suggested it might be wise to ease our way into society. Violet seems in no particular hurry.”

  “Maybe she’s afraid.” Marcus shrugged.

  “Violet?” James raised a skeptical brow. “I can’t imagine she’s afraid of anything. Once, perhaps, but not now.”

  “Come now, James.” Marcus rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “Think about it. She left England right after a titillating bit of scandal and has rarely spent more than a few weeks here since then. I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be apprehensive about reentering that particular world.”

  “I doubt it. Uncle Richard always took great delight in telling me Violet routinely attended any number of social events during her visits.”

  “A temporary stay is a far cry from permanent residency.”

  “It’s possible, I suppose. The ladies suggested our first significant social outing—the Explorers Club ball tomorrow night.” James eyed his friend hopefully. “Would you like to join us?”

  “The Explorers Club ball?” Marcus grimaced. “I can’t think of anything less exciting.”

  “Perhaps if Mrs. Ryland was to come along...”

  “What are friends for?” Marcus grinned. “I’d be delighted to join you.”

  “Good.” He sipped his drink. “At least if I’m dancing with Violet, she can’t escape. I thought I had known her all those years ago although I see now I barely knew her at all.”

  “Oh?”

  “She was something of a wallflower. More interested in books and poetry than anything else. But she had a quick wit, even if it rarely surfaced. Odd, we both remember those conversations differently now.” He grinned. “But I distinctly recall every now and then, I’d catch her staring at me as if I were something quite remarkable.”

  “And then you broke her heart.”

  “Rubbish. She wasn’t the only woman who looked at me that way. I was considered quite a catch. I may have ruined Violet’s life but I didn’t break her heart.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course.” Was he? The idea had never occurred to him before now. Did Violet have feelings for him beyond friendship six years ago? Surely he would have noticed. But in truth, hadn’t he been just as self-centered as Marie? “Good God, what if you’re right?”

  “It would certainly explain why she’s so standoffish now.”

  “That paints an entirely different picture, doesn’t it?” At once, the morning after their wedding flashed through his mind. He’d thought she’d been offended—understandably so—but perhaps it had been something deeper he’d seen in her eyes. And when she’d insisted she never wanted to see him again... “How could I have been so blind?”

  Marcus wisely said nothing.

  “Bloody hell. What an arrogant ass I am. Was,” he added quickly. “I was an arrogant ass. I would hope I’m a better man now.”

  “We all hope that.” Marcus grinned then sobered. “Perhaps some of her reticence to be alone with you is because she doesn’t trust you. If she did indeed have feelings for you once, if she was hurt by your, well, rejection of your marriage, it’s entirely possible she fears the return of those feelings.”

  “I never imagined...” He shook his head. “I’m going to have to earn her trust, aren’t I?”

  “At the very least.” Marcus thought for a moment. “How do you feel about her?”

  “I was fond of her all those years ago.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I find her...intriguing. Fascinating. Exciting.” He thought for a moment. “She’s determined. And clever. In a terrifying sort of way. She doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind. She’s, well, a challenge.”

  “You’ve never really faced a significant challenge, have you?”

  “Not for a moment.” James shrugged. “Things come easily for me. I’ll not apologize for that.”

  “You realize arrogance will not serve you well.”

  “Yet another challenge.”

  Marcus raised his glass. “I have confidence in you.”

  “That’s one of us.” He braced himself and met his friend’s gaze. “I want more than three years. I want the rest of my life with her.”

  “You what?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Even so, it’s hard to believe.”

  “I assure you, you’re no more surprised than I.” James grimaced. “Now that she’s here, I can see what I’ve missed and what I want.”

  Marcus stared. “Are you in love with her?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready to call it that quite yet but...perhaps I always have been.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “Maybe I was just too young and stupid and arrogant to realize it.” Or maybe he had known it the moment his lips had touched hers. “Maybe I’ve been a bloody fool for the last six years.” He drew a deep breath. “I think Uncle Richard was right.”

  “Yet another unexpected development.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” James wasn’t quite sure he believed it himself. “Who would have thought the only woman I want to seduce would be my wife.”

  JAMES ABSENTLY HANDED his hat and gloves to Jonas and started toward the library. His talk with Ma
rcus had given him a great deal to think about. The idea that Violet might have felt something beyond friendship for him had never so much as crossed his mind. It certainly did explain her unyielding determination to keep her distance.

  He glanced into the parlor and groaned. Rolls of fabric and wallpaper littered every available space. Everywhere he looked, workmen measured the floors, the windows and the walls. Others covered furniture with sheeting and rolled up the carpets. He stepped back to avoid two men carrying a large piece of covered furniture out of the room. Mrs. Ryland stood in the middle of it all directing the activity.

  “Where is she?” He glared at the woman.

  Mrs. Ryland glanced at him. “Good day, my lord.”

  “Good day,” he said in a disgruntled manner. “Where is my wife?”

  “I believe she’s in the library.”

  “My library?”

  She smiled politely but a wicked gleam sparked in her eyes.

  “Bloody hell.” He started toward the library then paused. “You don’t like me very much do you?”

  “I didn’t know I was expected to,” she said in an overly pleasant manner then turned to finish her discussion with a short, balding man holding a large notebook.

  “I suppose not,” he muttered, and headed toward the one room in the house he considered his sanctuary. The scene of organized confusion in the parlor was echoed in the dining room, the breakfast room and every other room he passed.

  He reached the library and threw open the library door. “What are you doing in my library?”

  Violet glanced up from behind the desk—his desk—and smiled that deceptively pleasant smile of hers. “Our library, James.” She scribbled something in her ever-present notebook. He was starting to hate notebooks. “I didn’t expect you to return from your office so early.”

  “My hours are my own.” He snapped the door shut behind him and approached the desk.

  “How lovely for you.”

  “Violet.” A distinct warning sounded in his voice.

  With an exaggerated sigh, she set her pen down and folded her hands on top of her notebook. “Yes, James?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “Why don’t you sit down.”

  “I prefer to stand.”

  “You’re towering, James.” She settled back in the chair and gazed up at him. “I really don’t like it.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “I’m in the library because there’s a great deal of activity in the house and I needed a place where I could hear myself think.” She glanced around thoughtfully. “Make some notes, jot down ideas, that sort of thing.”

  “About the library?” Shock widened his eyes. “My library?”

  “Our library.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “You will not touch so much as a footstool in this room.”

  She ignored him. “The drapes need to be replaced to start with.”

  “This was Uncle Richard’s favorite room.” He planted his hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward, his gaze locking with hers. “You will leave this room alone.”

  She stood and mimicked his stance, leaning toward him over the desk until her nose was a scant few inches from his. The neckline of her dress dipped, revealing nothing in particular beyond a hint of shadow. A most distracting shadow. “You said I could do as I wished.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t mean—”

  “What did you mean?”

  “I’m not sure now.” What the hell had she done to him? “But I didn’t mean you could disrupt my entire house.”

  “Our entire house. And the disruption is just beginning.” She dropped back into her—his—chair. “Once this floor is finished, I shall move on to the upstairs bedrooms and parlors.”

  His jaw tightened. “I don’t think this is necessary. Any of it.”

  “I do. And I’m not the only one.” A wicked smile curved her lips. “Uncle Richard agreed with me.”

  James glared. “Uncle Richard would never agree to the chaotic disruption of his household.”

  She cast him a pitying look. “And yet he did. On more than one occasion right here in this very room.”

  “Then why wasn’t it done before now?” A smug note sounded in his voice. He had her there.

  Apparently, she didn’t realize it, given the look in her eye. “Because Uncle Richard wanted me to take it in hand. He said he wouldn’t trust such an undertaking to anyone but me.” She rose to her feet. “This is long overdue, James.” Her gaze traveled over him. “And quite frankly, the house isn’t the only thing that could do with a bit of refurbishment.” She studied him with an assessing eye. “When was the last time you had a new suit of clothes?”

  “This is new.” Indignation rang in his voice. “My tailor finished this suit not more than two months ago.”

  Her brow arched upward. “Your tailor?”

  “And Uncle Richard’s, as well.” Let her disagree with that.

  “Uncle Richard was well past his eightieth year. You are barely thirty.” Again, her gaze raked over him. “The style of his apparel suited a man of his advanced years. You might wish to consider a new tailor.”

  It wasn’t enough that she was trying to change his house, now she wanted to change him, as well. “My tailor suited Uncle Richard and he suits me.”

  “Of course, if you wish to look a bit stiff and stodgy and old-fashioned and far older than your years—” she shrugged “—by all means, go right ahead.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “I’m only being honest, James. I would think honesty between a husband and wife would be paramount to a successful partnership.”

  “A what?”

  “A partnership.” She smiled. “An equal partnership.”

  “An equal partnership?” This made no sense at all.

  “We’re not going to get anywhere at all if you keep repeating what I say.”

  “That doesn’t sound like any marriage I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Then we shall be unique,” she said, as if the matter were closed. “Well, more unique.”

  “If we are to be equal partners... ” He chose his words with care. “Then I should have a say as to how things are managed in this house.”

  “Goodness, James, management of the household has always fallen to the lady of the house. It is in fact what I have been trained to do.”

  “Nonetheless—”

  She held out her hand to stop him. “However, in the interest of cooperation and partnership, I will limit any changes to the library to those I deem absolutely necessary.” She smiled pleasantly. “I suspect you won’t even notice.”

  “I suspect I will,” he snapped.

  “You did say I had a free hand.” A distinct gleam of triumph shone in her eyes.

  “You’re right, I did.” He huffed and started toward the door. Blasted woman thought she had the upper hand. He paused in midstep. Not for long. He turned back to her. “I was wondering how long Mrs. Ryland would be staying with us.”

  “I really haven’t given it any consideration.” Suspicion shone in her eyes. “Why?”

  “Now that you’re residing here permanently, you no longer have need for a companion. And I prefer not to have a woman who detests me living under my roof. I suggest you discharge her.”

  Her eyes widened. “I will not! I need her assistance. Besides, she’s my friend.”

  “And she may remain your friend.” He stifled a satisfied smile. No need to lord his triumph over her. “But you no longer need a companion and I want her out of my house.”

  “She acts as my secretary, as well.”

  “She may remain in that position if you wish. However, my secretary does not reside with us, nor shall yours.”

  Her eyes flashed and he braced himself.

  �
�Very well,” she said in a clipped tone. “In the interest of partnership, I will abide by your wishes. I concede that you may have a legitimate point and I will admit that you are right. Cleo doesn’t like you.”

  He snorted.

  “But I will not turn her out into the street. She’ll need some time to find a place to live.”

  “A week or so should be sufficient I would think.” He could agree to be generous. He had, after all, won this round. A minor triumph in the scheme of things, but a triumph nonetheless.

  She rose to her feet and cast him a pointed look. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

  He frowned. “I still don’t see why you have to change anything.”

  “You wanted a wife, James, and now you have one.” She smiled that frighteningly pleasant smile of hers.

  “This is not what I had in mind.”

  “Ah, well, the good with the bad and all that.” She picked up her notebook then paused and nodded at the desk. “Oh, I’m selling the desk.”

  He stared. “Why in God’s name would you sell it?”

  “For one thing, you don’t like it and according to family records I’ve been perusing, although it was a gift from a member of the royal family generations ago, no one in this family has ever liked it.”

  “But—”

  “Besides, selling it will defray some of the expenses of refurbishment.” She stepped toward the door.

  “Expenses?” He didn’t like the sound of that.

  “I certainly can’t do what needs to be done without spending a certain amount of money.”

  “How much money?”

  “I have no idea,” she said blithely.

  “Violet.” He adopted his best I-am-the-earl tone.

  She ignored it. “You don’t want my dearest friend living in your house and I don’t want that monstrosity in mine.”

  “Even so—”

  “Partnership, James,” she said over her shoulder. “Equal partnership. Give and take.”

  “I’m doing all the giving!”

  “Free hand, remember?” She waved her hand over her head and opened the door. “Oh, this will be fun.”

  “Fun is not how I would describe it,” he called after her even as the door closed in her wake.