She blushed scarlet "Er, that you're a man of great importance and will be too busy--"
"Not too busy to take care of that which is mine, Aunt Margaret. Please keep that in mind if you or any of your friends attempt to meddle with my household."
"Meddle! Why, I have never been so insulted in my life," Aunt Margaret huffed.
Thomas gave a tight smile. "Well, you're relatively young yet. There is still time for someone to improve upon my put-down."
Aunt Margaret gasped and turned puce with embarrassment and ire.
Charlotte was torn between sympathy for her aunt, and amusement and shock at what Thomas had just said.
"Let me just show you...the door." He took her aunt by the elbow and led her to the exit nearest them, through the French windows into the garden.
Charlotte would have followed, but her father waylaid her.
"Now, now, my dear, don't step into the middle of that cat fight."
"But--"
He shook his head. "There's no need to worry. Thomas knows what he is about in his own household. But don't blame him entirely, child. I was the one who warned him not to let her in the house. I fear she is a selfish woman who will be no friend to him or you."
Her eyes widened. "How can you say that? Take his part? She has lived with us ever since Mama--"
Her father rested both of his hands upon her shoulders. "It is precisely because she has lived with us as long as she has that I can judge her character. And can state categorically that she is not someone I would entrust a young person's care to any longer. She knew about your elopement, now didn't she, and did nothing to stop it."
She blushed. Aunt Margaret had not only known, she had practically thrown Herbert Paxton at her. "That's true, but then-"
Her father put his hand squarely on her shoulder, silencing her. "The fact that it was a respectable man like Thomas makes no difference. She encouraged you in immorality and wrongdoing. Therefore she is not a fit companion or guardian. I shall have no hesitation in telling people that she is selfish and not to be trusted."
"I see. Well, thank you for telling me."
"I want only what's best for you. Take my word for it, I have no intention of interfering in your marriage unless forced to by Thomas proving himself an unsuitable match. But for the moment, let's give hm the benfit of the doubt, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
He chucked her under the chin, forcing her to look up at him. "You know where I am if you really need, me, my dear. But try not to be too flighty and unsettled. Give your marriage a good chance to grow into a happy one, all right? Leave your aunt to her own devices, and let Thomas be the husband he wishes to be. He's older, and very wise. If you can control your flights of fancy brought about by far too many novels, I feel sure you'll be very happy and have no cause for any regrets."
"Thank you, Father." She smiled up at him shyly.
His brows knit ferociously. "But I know you, lass. You were spoiled half-rotten by your mother, and I wasn't much better. No, don't even bother to deny it. So one more word of warning. Just try to make sure Thomas doesn't have any regrets about marrying you either."
She blushed. "I'll try not to, Sir."
"Good girl." He patted her cheek, and headed back to the buffet table.
By the time Charlotte took leave of her father and went out into the garden, there was no sign of either Thomas or her aunt.
She was astonished at her father's attitude, and more than a little angry that he and her husband had banded together against her.
She could see the wisdom of their decision, but her aunt's words about being all alone and friendless in her own home had struck a chord within her.
Charlotte quaked with fear and dread. She was under no illusions as to the nature of marriage in her society. The man was the head of the household, and could do as he liked as with both his wife and children. She could hear the prison bars clanging all over again.
She looked around the frosty garden one last time, and shivered. Then she returned to her guests with a heavy heart.
Though she tried to make them feel welcome, most of them were Thomas's friends, or neighbors with whom she had only a passing acquaintance. This only added to the misgivings her aunt had prompted, and which she had hoped to have lain to rest the evening before.
At length Thomas returned, and she noted a dusting of snowflakes on his hair and clothing.
"The weather has turned," he announced to the guests. "You are of course more than welcome to stay, but if anyone has to return home urgently, I suggest you go now before the storm sets in."
Most of them took the hint and departed. Only one or two who lived quite far away, and his especial friends, decided to stay overnight. There was no telling if they would be caught for one night or several if a severe storm were on the way.
"Are you sure you won't stay, Father?"
"Not at all, dear child. We wouldn't dream of putting you out on your wedding night."
Her father, aunt and uncle, and cousins said their goodbyes, kissing her warmly and wishing her well.
"Thank you so much. I shall see you soon."
She was pleased with the turnout, and thought they had put on a creditable show. Most of the friends and acquaintances had been his, but they certainly had all been charming. She had not had any awkward moments to speak of until her aunt had turned up out of the blue. She sighed inwardly, and continued to smile until her face felt as though it were cracking.
Thomas shook hands heartily all around, and then all the guests were gone, or had headed up to their rooms, leaving her alone with her husband at last.
He searched her expression for any sign of upset, and asked quietly, "Would you like to discuss your aunt now or later?"
"Now, please," she said firmly. "I would like to know that she is at least provided for, not out on her ear in a dreadful storm."
He led her from the ballroom into the small wine-colored parlor she was now beginning to view as theirs.
"Do you think me so without feeling that I would leave her to wander the roads in a blizzard?" he asked with an air of weary resignation.
She made no reply.
He sighed. "There's a small cottage on the other side of the village which lies empty. I have dispatched the servants to make sure it is clean, and to help her settle in. She may not like it, but it will serve her well enough until she can make other arrangements, if she so chooses."
"But Thomas, I don't understand. Why the urgency? Why could she not stay here one night?"
"Why come here at all when she has a perfectly good home with your father?"
She blinked. "Well, she was my mother's sister. It was one thing when I was living there, it is another entirely now that I am wed."
"Quite so, but no decision has to be made right now, does it?"
She rubbed her aching brow and shook her head. "No, I suppose not, but all the more reason why I can't fathom your insistence on her leaving in the middle of the wedding reception without so much as a bite to eat."
"Because I don't trust her," came the flat reply.
She sucked in her breath, deeply shocked.
He raised one hand palm outwards to silence her. "Now before you berate me for my bad manners, just hear me out."
She sat back in her seat to stare at him silently.
"Your aunt was supposed to take responsibility for your reputation, and yet she encouraged you to elope with the other gentleman, did she not? She was surprised, and angry when we announced our engagement at your birthday party. No, don't try to deny it. I could see it written all over her face."
"Yes, but I was to blame-"
He shook his head. "You may have been foolish and headstrong, but she should have known better."
"But I-"
"Nay, my dear, your loyalty does you credit, but it is sadly misplaced."
She stared at him in confusion. "I don't understand. How can you be so sure?"
"Because I overheard her. Her and another woman,
and the man in question. I do not know who the other woman was for certain. I did not see her face. But I can guess."
"Overheard her doing what, for pity's sake?"
"Plotting your elopement, all three of them."
"Oh, no, you mist be mistaken, Thomas. Why I hardly knew myself what I was going to do-"
At her narrow-eyed look, he decided not to press the point any further.
"I may have been in error, my sweet, but your aunt's actions since then have not been those of a true friend or family member, now have they. And you admitted yourself that you had no one willing to stand up as a member of your wedding party.
"Since your aunt and other trusted companions have demonstrated poor judgment and a lack of care where you're concerned, I do not want you to have any more to do with them than is absolutely necessary. I'm not asking you to cut the three of them. Just do not get yourself into a position of having to be more than civil to them."
She shook her head. "Are you not overreacting just a little?"
He took her hand and kissed it, palm upwards. "Not at all, my dear. I want to be able to trust you, Charlotte. To do that, I have to be sure that the lure and temptation of your old life will not be too great for you."
"It will not be," she said, anger sharpening her tone.
"I would like to be sure of that, my love. Perhaps in time we can both relax our vigilance. For now the danger is very real. I know you do not care for me as a wife should for her husband. Maybe it is impossible that you ever shall.
"But we are married now, and I would have you safe and content. Being made to feel discontent by constantly pointing out what you might have had versus what you do have, will only make us both unhappy."
"But, Thomas, I have more than I ever dreamt of," she said sincerely, indicating the charming sitting room with a sweep of her hand.
"Yet material things may not be enough."
"I'm not talking about just the material things-" she began to protest.
His hard stared stilled the words on her lips. "But I'm the wrong man, as you have pointed out several times. It is easy to view a past, or a fantasy future with rose-colored spectacles. The present and future might be far less idyllic than your imaginings."
She took his hand firmly in her own. "I'm not that foolish. Only time will tell. I will heed your advice about my aunt. But I am to have some friends, I hope."
"Never fear. You shall not be left alone to my tender, or not so tender mercies."
She could see the mockery in his eyes, and lifted her own sapphire gaze candidly. "I'm not afraid of you, sir."
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, once again igniting the spark of desire which flamed every time he touched her.
"Not even now?" he asked, nibbling at her lips and chin.
"Never when you hold me like this," she sighed.
He straightened and put her from him. "Then it is I who should be fearful of you. One kiss like that and all of my good intentions go right out the window." He got of the sofa and stepped away from her abruptly.
"It's been a long day. You must be very tired. Might I suggest you retire to your room early, and get settled in? Please do not hesitate to ring for the servants if you need anything. Your new maid, Mary will be there to tend you. I hope you will be good friends."
"Thank you, I shall try to be," she promised, though the idea was a novel one, not at all in keeping with her father's notions on how to treat the servants.
"Well, good night. I shall see you early in the morning."
"Early?"
"I thought a ride, then breakfast, and a tour of the estate. I would take you around on the ride, but I fear the snow will make that difficult."
"Perhaps we should postpone the tour for that same reason?"
"I have people I need to see, whom I have neglected a bit with all of the plans for the wedding to tend to. And besides, I should very much like you to meet them," he added, seeing her hurt expression.
She was glad he was not reproaching her for taking up too much of his time, and that he was pleased to have her meet his friends and tenants.
"Go on now, head upstairs to bed. We aren't going to settle everything in your mind today. It will take time. But we're married now, and have much to look forward to, if only you will try to let go of the past."
"I will try. Good night, your Grace."
He bowed over her hand, then reached up with his other one to touch her cheek. "It is Thomas, now and always, my dear. Let us try to at least be friends, even if you think you have ample cause to resent me."
Hot color crept into her cheeks. "Er, yes, I shall try. It's just all so new and unexpected. But you're right, we are married now, and I have no wish to resent you, sir. Besides, many couples have had to make do with far less."
"And been granted far more blessings as a result. Good night, my dear."
After he had bestowed a single kiss upon her brow, she ascended the stairs to her new room. She looked at the large elegant bed, and threw herself upon it with a sigh. The riches, the gown, the room, it all seemed so empty without anyone intimate to share it with...
But she had made her decision. She had married Thomas Eltham, the Duke of Ellesmere. Now she was just going to have to live with him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
True to his word, Thomas had Charlotte awakened by her maid Mary at six the next morning. She brought some toast and tea on a try, along with a small Bible. He had indicated some passages on the nature of marriage with slips of paper, and there was a handwritten note that said, "Stables at seven."
Charlotte still felt muzzy-headed and blearily peered at the missive. Lord save her from an overly zealous husband. By the time she had rung for her abigail, struggled out of her wedding gown, and changed for bed the night before, she had been exhausted. The strain of her fears made her feel as though she just wanted to pull the covers up over her head and sleep for a month.
But often she had discovered that confronting her worries was easier than having them pursue her continually. Besides, where was the harm in a simple ride? She certainly needed the exercise and fresh air.
The morning was brisk and cold, with snow in the air, but very little on the ground from the night before. She stood shivering in her habit as the groom saddled her mount according to her instructions. It was a delightful little chestnut filly introduced as Misty. Charlotte fell in love with her at once.
Thomas came into the stables a short time after with a pair of saddlebags brimming with all sorts of items.
"Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?" he said with a broad smile, admiring her blue riding habit, which matched her eyes perfectly.
"Yes, your Grace. And you?"
"Very well indeed," he lied in his heartiest tone. In fact he had tossed and turned all night, hardly able to bear the thought that Charlotte slept so near, and yet he could not make her his own as he longed to.
She stared at the saddlebags, and soon realized that the calls he planned to pay were all in the village, to the estate workers living there.
She mounted via the block and hoped Thomas did not think ill of her for riding astride. Sidesaddles were certainly more elegant, but also far more dangerous if it was at all slippery underfoot, and she liked a good gallop.
Fortunately, he seemed to as well, and challenged her to a race, which he won easily, but with none of the triumphant air one might expect from so superior a rider. Herbert's seat was as nothing compared with Thomas's, she conceded inwardly with a blush.
Charlotte was impressed with the tidy village of Eltham, which consisted of about thirty thatched cottages which stretched for about a mile on either side of the road to Bristol.
He stopped at the homes of people he knew to be in especial need, and had a thoughtful little gift or useful item for each of them in the saddlebags. She could not help but remark to herself on his thoughtfulness and lack of hauteur.
Each cottage was snug, with several downstairs rooms and a loft, and indoor
pumps and sinks large enough even for people to wash in. She had to admit she was impressed with the relative luxury of running water in such simple homes. They were also given ample firewood and coal every week, delivered straight into their scuttles, and fresh milk and eggs each morning. A bakery at the end of the village sold fresh bread every day except Sundays, and a general store next to it sold everything from pins to farming implements.
At the top of the village was the quaint twelfth century church and long low barn that served as the village hall.
She noted that Thomas's people were far better off than her father's tenants, better dressed, heartier looking, and seemed genuinely pleased to see him. There was none of the sullen tugging of forelocks she had witnessed the few times she had ever accompanied her father to collect the rents.
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