Mary asked how Phineas drank his tea, then prepared a cup to everyone’s liking. Kitty took hers and asked, “May I see the children? We do not have a great deal of time, because we have two other places to go before we leave Bath.”
“Three places to go,” Phineas corrected. She turned her gaze back to Mary, who nodded and signaled for the servant standing by the wall to go fetch the children.
“Kitty! Phineas!” Samuel ran into the room and threw himself into Kitty's arms, while Erasmus looked in astonishment at Phineas.
“He calls you by your Christian name.”
Phineas grinned and shook Samuel’s hand. “It started in innocence, and I did not have the heart to change it.” He turned to Samuel, who had gone back to sit next to Kitty. “How would you like to come back to Giddenhall with us after the Twelfth Night festivities?”
“Oh, would I!” Samuel leaned against Kitty, and she turned her eyes to Phineas, brimming with the gratitude she felt for him.
The door opened and Edward and Helen ran in, followed by the nurse carrying William. There was the same hubbub of excitement as everyone rushed into Kitty's arms, and she exclaimed over each one of them. William reached out his chubby arms to her, and she took him on her lap with a caress.
“I may just have to buy a permanent place in Bath,” Erasmus said.
It was a balm to Kitty’s soul to listen to her niece and nephews’ chatter, as Samuel stood quietly at her side—as if the change that would come over him when he went to school had already begun to take place. She was unable to bring the visit to a close, and even though she knew Phineas was impatient to be off, he showed an extraordinary amount of patience, she thought, before they finally bid her family farewell. Kitty followed Phineas out to the coach, which had been brought back around, and he helped her in and tucked a blanket around her legs.
“I believe the affair with your brother was settled nicely,” Phineas said.
“Yes,” Kitty said. “And Sam was aux anges about coming to visit us. I can't thank you enough. That was one of the hardest things to reconcile myself to about being married. It is going to do him a world of good to stay with us.”
“I quite like the idea of Sam’s frequent visits. He will bring me back to my days at Harrow, which were happy ones, and he will fill Giddenhall with life.”
She nodded, a smile hovering on her lips. “And you were able to put your foot down with my brother. He is without shame. Everything is about business to him. It matters not if he might disgrace himself or anyone else in the bargain.”
Phineas leaned to the side so he could face her more comfortably. “I don't believe that for him he is disgracing himself. He is so absorbed by growing his business, he cannot be hurt by any reproach that he has gone too far. But I am glad I put my foot down for our future peace. It would become increasingly difficult to spend time with your family if I had to endure more of that last dinner.”
Kitty laughed. “Yes, that was rather unfortunate.”
A silence settled as the carriage moved over the cobblestones. Kitty decided to continue in their vein of truth telling. “I did not like being reminded of the terms upon which we married.” She lifted her eyes to him. “Even though I knew they were perfectly true, it's such a dispassionate way of discussing how we were married. There were no warmer feelings involved. Do you think we shall ever overcome it?”
They’d not had far to travel, and the carriage soon came to a stop. Phineas frowned and looked at the door that the footman was about to open. This was a chance for him to say some of the things Kitty had been longing to hear, and she held her breath, waiting for him to talk about the other reasons for being married—the merits she brought to the match just from who she was. She sincerely hoped he perceived them.
The door opened, and the footman waited for Phineas to step out. He paused for a second and met her gaze before leaning over to murmur, “No, our marriage will not always be spoken of in such a manner.”
Phineas stepped out and went into the building. He had told Kitty it was not necessary for her to come in as well, for he was just discussing replacing Mrs. Morley with his man of business. Kitty waited, knowing she had to be content with the promise he had made, although it did not fill her heart with peace. She wanted more. She wanted to know that their marriage could grow into a love match. She patted the soft folds of her cloak and examined the brown fabric against her tan kid gloves. It wouldn’t do to hope too much.
As promised, Phineas was not long. Their next stop was to retrieve the finished riding habits from Mrs. Laurent, and Phineas sent the footman to fetch them for Kitty since an icy rain had begun to fall. When the parcel was delivered, the coach moved forward again. “Only one more stop before we leave for Giddenhall,” he said.
Kitty scrunched her eyes. “Where is that?”
Phineas turned to her in mock surprise. “Why—to visit Robert and Teresa Bromley, of course. You cannot think we will leave without seeing them?”
“Oh yes,” she exclaimed. “I would so like to visit them one last time. I wish we lived closer, so we might increase our acquaintance.”
The carriage traveled a short distance farther and stopped in front of the Bromley residence. They were admitted at once, and Teresa came into the hallway to greet them. “Oh, are you dressed for travel?”
“Yes.” Kitty clasped Teresa’s hands that were held out for her. “We are headed back to Giddenhall today. We have much to prepare for Christmas. And as glad as I am to go back, I do wish I'd been given more time to get to know you.”
“That can be arranged,” Teresa said, warmly. “Come into the drawing room. Phineas, you are often in the habit of visiting Bath are you not? You need only bring your wife each time.”
“Yes, it is true. My father involves me a great deal in the affairs of his estate. We will most certainly be back.” Phineas hesitated and turned to Robert. “You had something you wished to show me in the study, did you not? Perhaps we might have a glance at it now before we leave Bath.” A brief look of confusion passed over Robert’s face before he said, “Oh, yes. I had forgotten. Please, follow me.”
The two left the room, and Teresa invited Kitty to sit down. “Why are you returning so soon? Oh—you mentioned Christmas boxes and festivities. Of course you must go. Would you like some tea first?”
Kitty shook her head. “We had tea at my brother’s house before we left.”
Teresa sat forward. “Who is your brother? Does he live in Bath?”
“No, he lives in Bristol. He is Erasmus Stokes.” Kitty was about to say that the name would not likely be familiar when Teresa gave a small gasp.
“Is he related to the Stokes shipping company?”
Kitty's eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, you have heard of it?”
“I suppose most have,” Teresa said, “considering it is such a large shipping company. But my brother traveled with one of his ships coming home from India one year when he had been weakened by the climate. The captain of his ship took very good care of my brother, so I feel particularly indebted to Mr. Stokes—although, of course, I've never met your brother personally.”
Kitty felt a glow of satisfaction that her brother could have indirectly rendered service to Teresa. “I am glad to hear how well the captain took care of your brother. And although I should not say this of my own relations, I fear it would not be wise to introduce you to Erasmus in case he should think you are fair game for increasing his distinguished acquaintances.” Teresa laughed, and Kitty could only follow suit. She shook her head. “He has an unfortunate habit of boasting about what he has acquired, and I’m afraid that includes people.”
Teresa chuckled softly. “I could probably manage him, to be perfectly honest. But I suppose we will not attempt to connect our circles further.”
Kitty sighed and laid one hand over the other on her lap. She listened to the distant noise of their husbands talking in the study.
“Don't tell me you are melancholy so early in your marr
iage,” Teresa teased.
“Not melancholy, no.” Kitty met Teresa’s gaze. “But if I am being truthful, I do wish Phineas and I had more of a love match than we do. I'm constantly reminded of the differences in our social status.”
Teresa studied Kitty, her head to the side, as if reflecting on the words she would say before she spoke them. “I cannot claim to know Phineas very well. But I do think he is capable of being a man who loves his wife. He has only to realize it for himself, and when he has, I believe he will show it.”
Kitty gave a tiny shrug. “Yes, I suppose so. It is only that, having stayed with his parents, I have come to realize how very like them he is. He is not an expressive man.” She looked up at Teresa with a self-conscious smile. “This is probably another example of how different I am from the peerage. How much a husband and wife love each other is not spoken of in Society.”
“It is not. But I have always prided myself on not being too much like Society,” Teresa said. “And I am happy to say from personal experience that love matches are possible. I don’t see why it should be any different with Phineas.”
The men entered the room. “Teresa, darling, do you know of a reliable housekeeper that would be keen to work at Giddenhall? Hayworth is in need of one just now.”
Teresa thought for a minute, then her eyes lit up. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Remember Mrs. Ambley who worked for the Dowager Kentworth?”
“The one who died last year,” Robert confirmed.
“The very one. The new Lady Kentworth was pleased to bring her own housekeeper with her, so Mrs. Ambley has been in need of a new position.” Teresa turned to Kitty. “My own housekeeper spoke of her last week. They are acquainted, and I promised I would help if I learned of a position.”
“Write to her at once,” Robert said. “Save our poor Kitty from a poorly-run estate where Phineas puts his foot through the threadbare sheets, the cobwebs grow to gigantic proportions in the drawing rooms, and dinner is brought to the table cold.”
“Heavens,” Kitty murmured, grinning. “Save us, indeed.”
Phineas came to stand by Kitty’s chair. “Are you ready to leave?”
She looked up at him in surprise. “So soon? But you have not sat with us. I thought we were here for a social visit.”
Phineas paused with a conscious look then chose a seat across from her. “And so we were. I have allowed my haste to return to Giddenhall to get the better of me. Yes, let us sit for a while. Threadbare sheets and cobweb curtains can wait. After all, the servants know enough to have dinner ready for us.” He threw his legs out and folded his hands on his stomach.
“A dinner, of course, that will be cold.” Kitty turned back to Teresa, her eyes filled with mirth.
26
The ride back to Giddenhall was smooth, and there was none of the tension that had accompanied their wedding journey. At the same time, there was no lingering regard that might lead Phineas to think Kitty would welcome his embrace once the carriage doors were shut. To refrain from giving in to the temptation, he leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. “I hope you are getting accustomed to Giddenhall, and that it pleases you.”
Kitty faced him with a ready smile. “I like it very much. It is starting to feel like home.”
“I will have an interview with Mrs. Morley once we arrive. I hope Mrs. Ambley will be able to make her way to Giddenhall without delay. I believe we will do very well without a housekeeper for a few days, but I should not like to be without one for too long.”
Kitty shrugged. “I am not overly concerned. I know how to direct servants so that things are done. True, a large estate needs more people to oversee it, but I believe we will fare well enough without it.”
Phineas rested his hand on Kitty’s arm. “Yes, I am sure of it. You know, I had spoken to Mrs. Morley before I left, instructing her to treat you with more respect.”
She turned to him, the surprise evident in her eyes. “Did you though? I did not see any change in her behavior.” Kitty sighed. “We should give her a character reference. I don't like the idea that someone should suffer at my hand needlessly.”
“Well, one reaps what one sows,” Phineas said. “I do not like having a housekeeper who thinks herself above her mistress. However, I shall do my best to please you and handle the matter in a satisfactory way. I will dismiss her, but kindly.”
Kitty gave a dimpled smile. “That is good of you.”
Their conversation touched on mundane topics, and a sense of friendship settled about them that Phineas both appreciated and hated. On one hand, he was happy to know his relationship with his wife would not take on the distance his parents’ marriage had—long silences and barely tolerating one another's presence. On the other hand, one glance at his wife, and the longing for her consumed him until he had to look away. He was no further to broaching the topic of intimacy than he’d been when they left. Perhaps one of their quiet dinners would solve the problem.
Perhaps there he could inch his hand closer to hers, brush his knee against hers…
When they arrived at the estate, Mrs. Morley stood in the entryway to greet them. “Good afternoon, my lord.” She curtsied. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “and my lady.” She did not curtsy a second time. Phineas exchanged a glance with Kitty and turned to the housekeeper.
“Have a maid bring tea to our rooms, and after I have cleaned up from our trip, I would like a word with you in the study.”
Mrs. Morley’s look turned apprehensive, and she curtsied again. “As you wish, my lord.”
She turned to go, and Phineas and Kitty climbed the steps together, much in the way they had done before they left for Bath. The servants who crossed their path dipped a curtsy and murmured a welcome back.
Phineas walked Kitty to her room and opened the door for her. He put a hand on her back. “This time, if the footman does not bring you your trunk, come knock on my door.”
Kitty laughed. “Except this time it will not be quite so urgent because I have a stash of gowns in my wardrobe.”
“Come and knock on my door anyway,” he replied with mock austerity before leaving to go to his room.
Phineas could hear bustling in the room next door and paused to listen, a smile playing on his lips. To have her in an adjoining room brought him a pleasant sort of ache. It had been odd and unsettling in Bath to have her stay in a room on an entirely different floor. She was his wife after all.
After he had his tea, Phineas went to the study and rang the bell to summon Mrs. Morley. She presented herself at once. “My lord, I suppose you will wish to have an accounting of everything that has occurred while you were away—”
“That will not be necessary, Mrs. Morley. In any case, that matter is usually addressed with the mistress of the house. And that is precisely the problem I have here. Lady Hayworth has told me that there has been no change in your behavior toward her, even after you and I spoke.”
Mrs. Morley frowned. “I mean no disrespect, my lord, but perhaps Lady Hayworth has chosen to see my words and actions in a different light than what they were intended.”
Phineas shook his head. “I will not allow you to cast aspersions on my wife, who is your social superior. If she says she has not felt respect from you, it means you have not shown it. I saw for myself that you did not deign to curtsy before her when we arrived.” He glanced at the pen on his desk, the nub of which needed sharpening. “I am relieving you of your position here, Mrs. Morley. You will be sent off with a character, but you will be sent off all the same. I cannot have any servants who are not completely loyal to both me and Lady Hayworth. It is not one or the other. I would like your keys.” Phineas held out his hand.
The housekeeper glared at him for a moment then unhooked the keys from her waist and handed them over. She marched across the room, turning back at the door. “I do not know how you will manage without me, my lord. I hope you do not regret this day. I have served Giddenhall for six years.”
“And that i
s why I am giving you a character reference—that, and my wife begged me for leniency on your behalf. As far as I am concerned, a servant who does not know how to show respect to her mistress is not a servant worth having.” Phineas pulled a sheet of paper from the narrow desk drawer. “As I’ve said, Lady Hayworth believes you should be given another chance. And in terms of how well Giddenhall will run without you, I am certain Lady Hayworth will manage just fine.” Phineas watched with satisfaction as the housekeeper exited then turned to the stack of mail the butler had left on his desk.
Dinner was served late, and it was not run with quite the usual efficiency. The scullery maid was kneeling by the hearth as Phineas and Kitty entered the dining room, and she had only just lit the fire. “Excuse me, milord and milady. Mrs. Morley did not give me the instructions to light the fire in this room. Bexley called for me to see to it just moments ago.”
Kitty leaned over the table to light the candle. “It is of no matter. A new housekeeper will arrive soon enough, and we will make do in the meantime. Tomorrow morning, I shall conduct a meeting downstairs with all the servants, and I will give instructions for what needs to be done, and at what time.”
The maid bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, milady. I will inform the others.”
Phineas held out Kitty’s chair, and the footman brought the simple repast then left the room at Phineas’s bidding. Kitty tucked her head down, hiding a shy smile. “I hope your interview with Mrs. Morley was not too disagreeable.”
“Not in the least,” Phineas said, cheerfully, spearing a potato wedge on his plate. “I did not spare her another thought once she had left.”
“Phineas,” she scolded mildly in a way he quite liked. She picked up her fork, and they worked their way through their dinner with only occasional remarks to break the companionable silence. When the sweets were set on the table, Kitty said, “Perhaps you might tell me a bit more about the Christmas boxes, and what sorts of things we shall do to prepare for Christmas at the estate.”
His Disinclined Bride (Seasons of Change Book 7) Page 23
