She sighed softly. ‘That actually sounds like a wonderful idea.’
‘Don’t sound so surprised.’ He reached for her hand again, gratified that this time she didn’t pull it away. ‘In the meantime, I’m still calling you Millie. I met her first.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘You’re awake early.’ Cassius glanced up in surprise as his new wife entered the dining room. It was just past seven o’clock, a good two hours before Sylvia usually made an appearance.
‘Am I?’ Millie made her way to the table, smiling at the footman who pulled a chair out for her. ‘We start earlier at the Foundation, but please don’t let me disturb you.’
‘Disturb away.’ Cassius folded his newspaper and tossed it on to the table, taken aback by a buoyant sensation in his chest as if his heart had actually just leapt to see her. She looked bright-eyed, fresh-faced and pretty. Unlike some people, she clearly hadn’t spent the night tossing and turning. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Very well, thank you, after I’d finished exploring. I’ve never had a bedroom to myself before, let alone a dressing room and private drawing room.’
‘But comfortable, I hope?’
‘Very. It’s not Sylvia’s old room, I take it?’
‘How did you guess?’ He made a wry face. ‘No, your room is adjacent to mine. They’re officially guest rooms, but it didn’t seem appropriate for me to use the master chamber while Sylvia was still in residence. Her rooms are a little more pink, I believe.’
‘In that case I’d better stay where I am.’ She lifted a hand to her head. ‘Otherwise I’d clash horribly.’
He smiled, taking the opportunity to let his eyes travel over her hair. The ringlets were gone this morning, but instead of her usual severe bun the sides were twisted into plaits that looped back over her ears and then coiled together loosely at the back of her head. The softer style made her look even prettier, damn it.
‘Is that a new dress?’ He cleared his throat, aware that he was staring.
‘No, it was one of Sylvia’s. She left me a few gowns as a wedding gift and I thought I should probably start dressing the part of a marchioness.’ She ran a hand over the bodice. ‘Do you like it?’
‘It’s very pretty, only...’ he paused, distracted by the position of her hand, and wondering how to ask the question without actually referencing his cousin-in-law’s expansive cleavage ‘...I wouldn’t have thought that you and Sylvia were the same size.’
‘No.’ She gave a knowing laugh. ‘We’re definitely not, but I made a few adjustments last night.’
‘Last night?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘You weren’t tired after such a long day?’
‘Ye—es, but I wasn’t sure whether or not I ought to stay up.’ She busied herself with the sugar bowl. ‘That is, whether or not you’d want me to?’
‘Ah.’ He felt his stomach plummet, uncertain about how to answer. Given that he’d spent a large portion of the night throwing longing glances at the door that connected their adjoining apartments, the fact that she’d been sewing on the other side felt somewhat mortifying. ‘We never discussed our sleeping arrangements, did we?’
‘No.’
‘I thought you would want some time to settle in.’
‘I see. That was very thoughtful of you.’
‘Which isn’t to say that I didn’t want to visit you last night...’
‘Oh.’
‘Only I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.’
‘Ah.’
He waited the length of several heartbeats. ‘How did, do, you feel about it?’
He thought he heard a soft intake of breath while she stirred her tea. ‘I’m your wife. I understand that I have certain...duties.’
Duties. He winced. If ever a word contained less enthusiasm, he’d yet to hear it.
‘I suppose your mother told you what to expect?’
‘Yes.’ She started to rearrange her cutlery. ‘And I’ve heard gossip at the Foundation.’
‘Ah.’ He didn’t think his stomach could sink any lower. Given the nature of the Foundation, he doubted much of that gossip would have been very encouraging. No wonder she called it a duty. She’d probably been waiting in a state of nervous dread for most of the previous evening. It was hard to imagine their wedding night going any worse even if they hadn’t been in separate rooms.
‘Well then...’ He decided to change the subject. ‘What would you like to do this morning? I’m entirely at your disposal.’
‘I thought I ought to speak to your housekeeper about the ball. We don’t have much time to plan.’
‘Good point. I’ll join you.’
‘Actually I’d like to do it myself, if you don’t mind? I have a lot of questions about...’ she gestured around the room ‘...well, all of this.’
‘If that’s what you want.’
‘But I’ll need to write invitations afterwards. I’ll need your help with those.’
He drained the last of his coffee. ‘Or I could take you to some of the farms on the estate and we can issue invitations in person? It’s a beautiful day for a ride and that way you’ll know a few faces at the ball.’
‘That sounds like a lovely idea, but I’m afraid I can’t ride.’ She looked apologetic. ‘I’ve tried to learn a few times, but horses always seemed to sense that I’m nervous.’
‘Then that’s something we can work on next summer. In the meantime, how about I call for a barouche? Then you can relax and look around while I drive?’
‘That sounds perfect.’
‘Good. Come to my library when you’re ready. If we leave by ten we should have about six hours of daylight left.’
‘Six hours?’ She looked startled. ‘How long will visiting take?’
‘Probably longer. Trust me, you’re going to be bombarded with questions.’
‘That’s not very reassuring.’ Her green eyes turned anxious. ‘Maybe it’s not such a good idea, after all.’
‘But I’ll be right by your side.’ He gestured to her plate. ‘By the way, I wouldn’t eat too big a breakfast if I were you.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’ll see.’
* * *
An hour and a half later Millie knocked on the library door, waited for Cassius’s answering call from within, then twisted the handle and caught her breath on the threshold. The view before her was literally, figuratively and every other way breathtaking. Row upon row of shelves crammed with books and ornaments stretched from floor to ceiling on two of the walls while another was taken up with a large brass fireplace, on either side of which stood a collection of tanned leather armchairs, facing each other across an Aubusson rug. The rest of the floor was covered in a maroon-coloured carpet that gave the room an overwhelmingly warm ambience. It even smelled cosy, of coal and coffee and books.
She walked in a few steps and turned around slowly on the spot, not wanting to miss anything. ‘I think this might be the most perfect room I’ve ever seen.’
‘I’ve always thought so, too.’ Cassius stood up from behind a walnut and leather-topped desk, smiling as if he were genuinely pleased to see her. ‘Although I was slightly frightened of it, too, as a boy. If I was summoned here, then it usually meant I was in trouble.’
‘Oh, dear. Was that often?’
‘No more than for your average hellion.’
‘Why didn’t you show me this on our tour?’ She gave him an arch look. ‘Then I would have married you no matter what.’
‘If only I’d known.’ He laughed and then looked faintly sheepish. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t in the right frame of mind the other day. I didn’t want to show it to you like that.’
‘I see.’ She let her gaze drift over the stuccoed ceiling and back to his face. ‘Is it all right for me to be here now?’
‘Now you’re more than welcome.’
‘Good.’ She gave a wide smile. ‘Because I’d much prefer spending my evenings here than in the drawing room.’
‘Then we shall. Pick an armchair and make it your own. I might even tolerate an embroidery chest in here. Now...’ he came around the side of the desk and offered an arm ‘...are you ready to make some calls?’
‘For everyone to gape at me, you mean?’
‘That, too, but then I think it would be hard not to look at you today.’ His gaze slid appreciatively over her green day gown. ‘That dress never suited Sylvia half so well.’
‘Now I know you’re exaggerating.’
‘Not at all. It brings out your eyes.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
She smiled shyly and laid her fingers on his bicep, feeling it flex slightly as they walked side by side out into the hall. There they paused briefly to put on coats and hats before going outside to where a barouche led by two grey horses stood waiting.
‘How did you and Mrs Turner get on?’ he asked, handing her up on to the bench before taking his own seat. ‘Have you worked out all the details for the ball?’
‘Some of them.’ She felt a tingling sensation in her lower body as the length of his thigh pressed lightly against hers, but she could hardly move away without making it obvious and she wasn’t sure she wanted to anyway. The solid pressure of his body, not to mention his body heat, felt surprisingly pleasant. ‘We’ve decided on next Thursday. That way the staff can have their party the following evening.’
‘That sounds good to me.’
‘Then Christmas Eve is the day after that.’ She glanced sideways, wondering how he’d react to her next idea. ‘I thought it would be nice if we gave the staff a few days off as a present?’
‘All of them?’
‘Yes. Maybe not all at once, but since we’ve already agreed to have Christmas dinner at the Malverlys, it would be perfect timing. We could manage with a reduced staff for a few days, couldn’t we?’
‘I should think so.’
‘Then do you agree?’
‘Why not? Since it’s Christmas.’ He threw her a smile. ‘I think my staff are going to be very pleased I married you.’
She smiled back, though the words made her feel somewhat unsettled, too. Never mind his staff, how did he feel about marrying her? He’d been in a reasonably cheerful mood since their wedding the day before, but that was probably just due to her being a weight off his conscience. He was being very kind, too, but not particularly husbandly. He hadn’t even kissed her since they’d sealed their vows with a brief, almost chaste peck on the lips, and as for their wedding night... Her cheeks flushed at the memory. She hadn’t realised that when he’d bade her goodnight outside her new bedroom door that he’d really meant it. After the way he’d kissed her those other times she’d expected... Well, she wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but she’d been curious to find out. She definitely hadn’t anticipated feeling quite so disappointed by his non-appearance...
She twisted her face away to hide her red cheeks. The air was cold and crisp, though the blue sky more than made up for it. Most of the snow had gone, but there were still traces here and there, stray piles in north-facing spots where the sun couldn’t reach and melt them, making the landscape seem to glisten in places. There were swans out on the lake, too, adding to the sparkling effect. They squawked loudly as the barouche rolled by, down the main drive for half a mile before turning off on to a smaller track.
‘The hall looks beautiful from here.’ She looked back over her shoulder, admiring the way the pallid winter sunshine reflected off the grey stone.
‘It does, although sometimes I wish they hadn’t knocked down the original house. It was built in the sixteenth century, all red brick and low arches. The pictures I’ve seen look rather grand, but my uncle wanted something modern.’
‘Is that how long your family’s been here, since Tudor times?’
‘Apparently so. Legend has it that one of our ancestors did something incredibly brave and Queen Elizabeth gave him this land as a reward. Of course, no one can actually say what the incredibly brave thing was, but that might be for the best. Magnus and I always suspected piracy.’
‘An acquaintance of Sir Francis Drake, then?’
‘Quite possibly.’ He leaned back on the bench, stretching one arm out casually behind her while the other held on to the reins. ‘What about your family? You told me that your mother’s father was an inventor, but you haven’t said anything about your father’s family.’
‘No. You’re right, I haven’t.’ She felt a stab of anxiety. ‘Perhaps I should have said something before the wedding, but it’s not easy to talk about. They were very rich and seemingly respectable, but their money came from the Americas. From trading in people.’
‘Slavery?’ His expression sobered instantly.
‘Yes. My father was horrified when he came of age and discovered the truth about his family’s fortune. He tried to persuade them to give it up and support the abolition movement instead, but there was a big falling out and they disowned him. Alexandra was the only member of his family who didn’t.’
‘I see.’
‘He and my mother both lobbied for a change to the law, but the Abolition Act wasn’t passed until the year after he died. I wish he could have lived to see it.’
‘He sounds like a good man.’
‘He was. I still miss him even now. Every day.’
‘I miss mine every day, too. It’s been twenty-seven years since he died, but some people never leave us, do they?’
‘No.’ She swallowed. ‘No, they don’t.’
‘I wish I could have asked your father’s permission for your hand. I’d have liked to have known whether he thought I might deserve it.’
‘I think so.’ She murmured the words without thinking, tensing as his head twisted towards her.
‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ She gave a small shrug, keeping her gaze fixed on the horizon where a herd of red deer were gathered beneath an oak tree. No matter what their relationship was, or more accurately wasn’t, she had no doubt that he was a good man. He certainly had a conscience. Their marriage alone was proof of that. And she had a feeling her father would have liked him.
‘How many farms are there on the estate?’ She cleared her throat, very aware of his eyes still watching her.
‘Twenty-eight, although some are bigger than others. We’ll start with the closest.’
‘Twenty-eight? Surely we can’t visit them all?’
‘No, they’re too spread out anyway, but we’ll make a start and then send messages to the ones we don’t get to today.’
‘Oh.’ She looked relieved. ‘I thought it would be nice if we invited everyone. Whole families, I mean, the children as well as the adults if they’re old enough to dance. Then it would be more of a party than a ball.’
‘A party?’ She sensed rather than saw his raised eyebrow. ‘I’m starting to think that you’re something of a revolutionary, Lady Falconmore. Giving servants days off and inviting children to parties? You’ll be telling me to hand out presents next.’
‘Oh! Presents!’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Do you think there’s time to arrange that?’
‘I’m sure we can arrange something.’
‘And we’ll need holly to decorate the house. As well as laurel, ivy and mistletoe if we can find any.’ She swivelled around, eyeing the back of the barouche speculatively. ‘I think we should be able to get quite a lot in here.’
‘That would be a good idea if only I’d thought to bring some shears.’
‘Oh...’ She felt crestfallen. ‘I didn’t think of that.’
‘But I’m sure we can borrow some. If there’s one thing farmers have plenty of, it’s tools.’ He grinned and then gestured towards a large stone house up ahead. ‘This is Home Farm, the b
iggest on the estate, as the incumbents will no doubt tell you. They don’t like to let anyone forget it. It’s entirely likely that Mrs Petch will expect you to curtsy to her.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Millie looked towards the house with trepidation. ‘Do you think they will have heard all the gossip about us?’
‘I’ll be amazed if they haven’t.’
‘So they’ll know why we had to get married.’ She almost groaned aloud.
‘They’ll think they do.’ Cassius nudged his shoulder against hers. ‘So why don’t we confound them?’
‘What do you mean?’ She caught her breath, her chest tightening at the contact. A leg was one thing, but the whole of one side of her body was now pressed against him. And she still didn’t want to move away!
‘Have I told you how beautiful you look today, darling?’
‘You mentioned my dress.’ She blinked, the low tone of his voice making her feel even more breathless.
‘Not your dress. You.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. You look radiant. All vibrant and...green.’ He tipped his head sideways, his blue eyes capturing hers. ‘Like spring.’
‘But it’s winter.’
‘Winter still holds the promise of spring.’
‘I don’t understand.’ She licked her lips. ‘What are you talking about?’
He made a tsking sound. ‘There’s no need to sound quite so shocked. It’s a perfectly harmless and entirely accurate compliment. But I think what you meant to reply is that I look very handsome, too.’
‘Well, yes, you do, but I don’t understand what this has to do with confounding anyone.’
‘Don’t you?’ He laughed. ‘You can call me darling if you like. Or sweetheart if you prefer. Honeysuckle even.’
‘Honeysuckle?’
‘Honeycomb?’
‘But...’ she was starting to wonder if he’d been drinking ‘...why?’
‘To confound the gossips!’ He drew the trap to a halt. ‘People may think they know why we got married. They might even be right, but that doesn’t mean we have to go along with their version of events. Surely it’s far more romantic to let everyone think we’re in love.’
Miss Amelia's Mistletoe Marquess Page 13
