“I apologize,” Marjie said, humbly curtseying before him. “I should not have spoken in such a crass manner. Please excuse my poor behavior.”
Adam had trouble concealing the grin that stretched his lips. He nodded his acceptance and bowed before the child. “I hope you shall join us again soon, Miss Marjie.”
She grinned before bouncing from the room.
“I shall return shortly,” Cori said. “I cannot help but feel I ought to explain to the new governess why I allowed Marjie to remain for the afternoon instead of sending her home directly.”
“Why did you allow her to stay?” Adam inquired, stepping closer and inhaling a faint floral scent.
Cori had an air of distraction about her. “I suppose it was selfish. I missed Marjie. I didn’t see her at all while I was in London preparing for the wedding.”
“A valid reason,” Adam agreed.
Cori shot him a small grin before curtseying and quitting the room. Adam watched her go, the scent she left behind making him restless. He could not place exactly what she smelled of, but he vowed to discover it by the end of the week.
Chapter 13
The house was the same as it had been a month prior, but Cori felt like a different person upon entering it. Marjie skipped ahead, unrepentant, and Cori felt a tinge of regret at allowing her to remain at Windfall for so long. She meant what she said to Adam, however. She had missed her sister and selfishly wanted a familiar presence in the new house. They were neighbors, after all.
“Marjie, you are to go to the school room this moment,” a stern voice said crisply. Cori heard her sister mutter a reply.
“Hello, Miss Hooplin,” she said, approaching the governess. “I am Cori Feather—Arnett. I apologize for Marjie’s escape this afternoon. I fear we are unused to being separated. And I have not seen her these last few weeks.”
“That is no excuse for uncivilized gallivanting across the neighbor’s fields.”
The woman had no sense of adventure. Or, it seemed, any flexibility.
Cori delivered a small smile, making an effort to be congenial. “Perhaps I can schedule a time to come and see my sisters, and then we can avoid any repeat indiscretions.”
Miss Hooplin’s mouth remained in a tight line, small wrinkles around her lips and eyes evidence of many years of distaste. Cori was beginning to understand the cause for Marjie’s earlier use of the word hag, and immediately chastised herself for her unkind thoughts.
“Perhaps on Tuesday afternoons?” Cori offered.
“Very well,” the governess agreed. “We may see. If they lose their privileges, however, I make no promises.”
Cori nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”
She turned to leave. She wished to see Meg, but asking Miss Hooplin would be pointless. The woman would no doubt wield her power and explain how Meg was not allowed visitors at present—or some other faulty excuse.
Instead, Cori made her way to the library, her sister’s favorite hideaway, and was rewarded with the image of sea green skirts amidst the stacks of leather-bound books.
“Meg,” Cori said quietly.
“Cori!” she replied, bounding up from her chair after carefully setting her book on the table beside it. She pulled her sister into an embrace, an uncommon occurrence to be sure. “How is marriage?” she asked.
“I am growing accustomed to it,” Cori said with a shrug. “And I have just scheduled Tuesday afternoons for my visiting time with you and Marjie.”
Meg did not inquire. She must have understood the necessity of scheduling time for visits with the new governess. Cori leaned in. “And how are things going with Miss Hooplin?”
“Well enough,” Meg said lightly. “She is far stricter than either of us are used to. But that is not so horrible.” She grinned suddenly. “Marjie could use some firm direction in her life.”
Cori shared in the smile. “I better be off. I shall see you Tuesday, if not before.”
“And don’t forget the jonquil evening gown,” Meg reminded her, a cheeky smile on the younger girl’s face. “I won it fair and square.”
Cori leaned forward and kissed her sister’s cheek before departing, hoping to hide the tears that sat in her eyes.
She made her way home, her mind full of the events of the day. One in particular was clouding her mind, and she could not shove it from her thoughts. Adam had clearly intended to kiss her earlier in the woods. That she welcomed the advance both frightened and angered her.
He was not in love with her, he’d made that clear. If what those gossiping women said was true, then she needed to wrap her mind around living with a husband who loved her sister. A difficult feat, to be sure. She had spent a lifetime feeling inferior to Rosemary. Her parents, her friends, and society as a whole esteemed Rosemary’s graceful beauty highly and Cori would never measure up.
When she was a child, she had held onto the knowledge that someday, when she married and had a family of her own, at least someone would love and care for her more than they did Rosemary.
It would appear she was not going to be blessed in that way. Tears silently trailed down her cheeks and she used the back of her hand to dash them away.
She could not stay upset with Adam; it was not his fault he had fallen in love with Rosemary first. Neither was he to blame for Cori’s naive expectations of a romantic marriage.
Cori simply had to find a way to come to terms with her new role and learn to embrace it.
* * *
Cori returned home to a seemingly empty house. Drawn to the study door for no discernable reason aside from a desire to see the earl, she knocked lightly, waiting on the tips of her toes for his deep drawl. Silence met her, and she counted to ten quietly, counted backward, and then knocked again.
When no answer came a second time, she opened the door, quietly poking her head inside. A deserted desk surrounded by empty chairs faced her, and she slipped inside. Crossing to the desk, Cori trailed her fingers lightly along the carved mahogany border, taking in every bit of the room that might give her a hint about her new husband. The painted horses above the mantle were gloriously depicted mid jump, a clear indication of Adam’s preference for a less sedate ride.
Stepping around the desk, she noted the stack of correspondence beside fresh paper, his organization evident in the clear piles and clean desktop. Glancing toward the door left ajar, the empty hallway visible, she opened the top drawer to the desk, inventorying the neat pens lined up beside sand and ink. She quietly perused the other drawers, impressed by Adams’ clear sense of order.
The final drawer at the bottom stuck, and she had to yank to get it open. It was empty but for a narrow box. Lifting the box, a small feeling within her protested the invasion. This was no minor curiosity; whatever Adam had hidden away here was likely personal.
The moment Cori lifted the lid, she immediately regretted her actions but found there was no turning back. Rosemary’s sloping scrawl lined the paper in her trembling hands. Jealousy swirled deep in her gut. She should look away, but she felt powerless, motivated by some feral need to see every word Rosemary had ever written him. She scanned the contents of the first missive as her stomach constricted.
It was a letter of affection, the date indicating its receipt long before Rosemary had ever accepted Lord Hammond’s proposal.
Cori folded the letter and tucked it back in the box, opening the next, and then the next. They all contained the same devout exclamations, clear descriptions of their future together. The letters also contained consistent requests to delay their engagement because Rosemary’s father wished for her to see London first.
It was evident that not only had Rosemary lied, but she had purposefully led Adam on before choosing another suitor entirely. Cori had always assumed her sister had behaved badly, but the blatant lies in her letters…it was far worse than she’d ever imagined. No wonder Adam felt so ruined.
Cori replaced the missives, closing the box and hiding it away in the drawer.
&
nbsp; Fleeing the room, she berated her foolish actions. It was bad enough to assume he still loved Rosemary, to believe he’d only married her to increase his chances of seeing the Featherbottom sister he actually preferred. But this was far worse. Adam had clearly proposed to Cori out of spite. She was merely a pawn in his desire to wound Rosemary as badly as she had wounded him. Had he given no thought to how Rosemary would not be the only casualty of this faulty marriage?
For now Cori was wounded as well.
* * *
She changed with the help of a maid and went down to meet Adam for dinner for the first time in their home together. She had thoroughly considered her discoveries in the study and came to a clear conclusion: she must guard her heart. She was married to Adam now, but she did not need to subject herself to further pain by leaving her heart unprotected.
“You look lovely,” Adam said, coming to a stand when Cori stepped into the drawing room.
She gave him her hand, curtseying as he bent forth and kissed the back of her glove. Her cheeks warmed on their own accord and she clasped her hands before her, surreptitiously rubbing the place that burned from Adam’s lips.
She glanced down at her pale pink gown, sure he was just being kind. The gown was one of Rosemary’s castoffs. She had worn it a few times before discarding it, complaining about its style being thoroughly out of date. It suddenly occurred to Cori that Adam could have been to a dinner or card party where Rosemary wore this very gown. Did he remember it? Prefer her in it? She quickly dashed the poisonous thought from her mind.
Nieves announced dinner and Cori placed her hand lightly on Adam’s arm, following him into the dining room. They sat at one end of the table, Adam at the head and Cori seated to his right.
“I thought it would be nice to sit close enough for conversation,” he explained after seating Cori beside him. “I know you deserve the place on the other end of the table, but it is quite far away.”
Cori glanced down the massive length of polished oak. She could see what he meant. If she had sat at the foot they would be quite far apart.
“Were you able to meet Miss Hooplin?” Adam asked, leaning back for a footman to place his dish before him on the table.
“Yes.”
“And was she…?”
Cori looked at him expectantly. She assumed she already knew what he wanted to ask, but let the question dangle regardless. It was much more entertaining to see Adam squirm. She was positive she had never seen such a dignified lord squirm in all her life. And after her discovery in the study, she could abide giving Adam a little discomfort.
Adam cleared his throat. “The woman, I mean. The governess.”
“Yes?” Cori asked innocently. “What about the governess?”
He leveled her with a look; she had been caught out. “You know perfectly well what I am trying to ask, you little minx. Now get on with it. How horrid was the ghastly governess?”
Cori grinned. “Marjie was spot on, I’m afraid. She was rather horrid indeed.”
Concern marred his brow. “Perhaps we should intervene on her behalf?”
Returning her attention to her meal, she tried not to find his consideration attractive. She would not allow herself to misunderstand his concern to be anything other than it was. “I believe they will do just fine. I have been too lenient, truth be told, and both Meg and Marjie will benefit from stricter instruction.” She chewed a bite of pork before continuing. “Miss Hooplin was likely so abrasive with me to assert her authority. I find I was taken aback at first, but she is in the right. I am not their governess, I am their sister. Now I get to enjoy the benefits of being a sister without the added discomfort of scolding.”
“You shall cease your scolding?”
She glanced up. Adam was smiling down at her. It was an odd thing, she thought, to find one’s husband was in fact agreeable. Before the wedding she had only imagined him steady and strong. That he had a sense of humor was certainly a bonus.
And confusing, at best.
Adam invited Cori to play for him after dinner and she was surprised when he followed her directly from the dining room instead of remaining behind for port. An hour was passed in front of the pianoforte and when Cori completed her final number, she rose, stretching her arms before her.
“Are you tired?” Adam asked.
It was on the tip of her tongue to scold him for his forwardness until she remembered he was her husband, to which she simply nodded.
“I can walk you upstairs,” he offered. “But I am afraid I must return to my correspondence.”
Cori was affronted. The man had gone back and forth from his study all day. From breakfast onward, whenever he wanted to get away he cited the need to write his letters. What man in England—running an estate or otherwise—had the legitimate need to correspond all day?
“I can manage,” Cori replied stiffly. She delivered a curtsey and walked from the room.
She could hardly blame the man for the past. Though he had acted rash and proposed to her in an effort to hurt Rosemary, she had acted rash and accepted the proposal. Love had a way of forcing people to do foolish things. But still, it was difficult to balance the feelings Adam ignited within her with the knowledge that he did not love her. She could not allow herself to fall for him more deeply than she already had when Rosemary held his heart; she just couldn’t.
Chapter 14
The next few weeks passed quickly while Adam and Cori found a comfortable rhythm. They breakfasted every morning before going for a ride together. Then Cori would change and go about her bride visits, either accepting callers or spending her time with Grandmama in the dower cottage. Adam would go to his study and take care of necessary estate business until dinner. They would share a meal once more and then spend a comfortable evening in the drawing room with music or reading or light conversation, after which Cori would go up to bed and Adam would return to the study or library for a drink.
The schedule was consistent and reached the point of predictability. Neither of them had any complaints about the details of their day.
Except Adam, naturally, had suddenly realized how excessively boring estate business could be. He found himself at the window quite often, or pacing to the library and back in order to catch a glimpse of Cori and the guests she was entertaining at the time. He found himself wanting to be in the drawing room, until reason would take hold and he would discern that sitting through bride visits was exactly the last thing he wanted to do with his time.
He stood near his study window, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Cori walk across the lawn and enter the wooded path. She was visiting with Grandmama, no doubt. She did so nearly every day.
Adam had always had a special relationship with his grandmother and felt pride that his wife would maintain a connection with her as well. Though he should not feel surprise. He could not think of a single person who did not like Cori. The housekeeper adored her, the butler smiled at her fondly. Her sisters, obviously, worshipped her. She was special, of that he had no doubt.
Surprise filtered through him as he came to the conclusion that he cared for her, too. Deeply.
“The post, sir,” Nieves said, holding out a silver platter with a few folded missives on top. Adam took the letters, halting at once when he noticed his brother’s writing. Retrieving a penknife, he sliced through the wax seal of the first letter and unfolded the thick parchment. He read the contents, anger and irritation battling for precedence within him.
Drat his mother. His awful, meddlesome mother.
He glanced up, his gaze sweeping the lawn for a woman that he knew was no longer there. He needed to find her at once.
* * *
Cori stepped out of the dower cottage, rejuvenated by the conversation and companionship she always felt within it. Whether it was from a mutual love for gardening or a desire to see all pompous windbags removed from church pews on Sundays, Cori and Grandmama maintained a special kinship that had only strengthened when they became related
.
She stepped through the front gate, warily watching the ominous dark clouds rolling in. She had not noticed the poor weather when she set out earlier or she would have brought an umbrella. It was clearly going to rain.
A large figure stepped out in front of her and Cori screamed as large hands wrapped around her.
“It is only I!” he yelled, and she relaxed at once.
Stepping out of his hold she gave him a wary look, continuing toward the house. “Adam, what are you about? It is going to rain.”
He caught up quickly, looking annoyed. “I needed to speak with you.”
“We best get inside first.”
He gripped her arm, pulling her around to face him. “I need to speak with you,” he said, his eyes hard.
Fire flew through Cori. She refused to be handled in such a way. Ripping her arm from his grasp she leveled him with a look. The first drop fell from the sky, hitting her nose. She wiped it away with a finger. “Yes?”
Adam’s eyes flitted up before landing on her again. He took her hand and pulled her forward, propelling her out of the wooded path as the rain began to fall.
They veered away from the house when they hit the open lawn and Cori tried to shout over the sudden onslaught of rain. “Where are we going? The house is that way!”
“The barn is closer!” he shouted back.
They made it through the large open door moments later, dripping and soaked through to the skin. Water pooled at their feet, already forming into puddles on the muddy barn floor.
“Would it not have been better to make a dash for the house?” Cori asked, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering.
“I was hoping we’d beat the majority of the rain,” Adam said, pulling the door closed behind them. A horse nearby whinnied, upset from the rain, and the smell of manure lifted with the scent of wet earth.
To Be Loved By The Earl: A Regency Novella Page 6
