Authors: Sue London
"Gideon,"
she whispered. "I think we've arrived somewhere."
"We're
always somewhere, darling."
She
poked his ribs. "Aren't you clever. I was thinking perhaps a carriage
house."
He
finally released her and sat up himself, rubbing his face and looking at the
light seeping around the curtains on the window. "We have most likely
arrived at home since it is already late afternoon."
"Well,
just so long as we have arrived somewhere."
"Undoubtedly."
There
was a knock on the carriage door. Gideon seemed amused that his retainers thought
it necessary to give the newlyweds privacy.
"Come,"
he called. A footman opened the door and bowed.
Gideon
looked out and then quirked a smile at Jack. "We are better than
somewhere. We have arrived at Kellington." He stepped down from the carriage
and held his hand up for her to take. Emerging from the carriage, her first
impression of her new home was of wind-swept fields and tangy salt air. There
were grasses and gorse growing wild in the fields as far as the eye could see,
as well as the largest manor home that Jack had ever seen, with an impossible
number of staff assembled in the front circle to greet them. She stood for a
moment on the steps of the carriage, struck dumb by the size of her new home.
She could easily imagine her family's country manor fitting inside six times
over, with room to spare. She was to be mistress of this? And other properties
as well? It was difficult not to retreat back into the carriage and demand to
be taken home. But now this was home. She gripped Gideon's hand tightly to
steady herself and stepped down to face her new life.
When
Jacqueline stepped out of the carriage Gideon could tell she was overwhelmed.
Her hand tightened convulsively in his and her expression went blank and
wide-eyed. The softly waving hairstyle that had been fetching at the wedding
had been mussed by travel and sleeping, giving the impression they had been
doing far more interesting things on the carriage ride. It was better, he
thought, for the staff to assume it truly had been a love match that had
prompted the hasty wedding. She kept hold of him even after stepping down and
he didn't try to move her hand to rest more appropriately on the crook of his
arm, so they moved forward to greet the staff looking more like lovers than
earl and countess.
Gideon
nodded to the butler. "Dibbs." This was not the Dibbs of London but
instead that butler's father.
Dibbs
bowed deeply. "We are glad to see you return, my Lord."
Gideon
then nodded to the housekeeper. "Mrs. Gladstone."
She
curtsied. "My Lord."
"Let
me introduce to you my wife, Jacqueline Wolfe, Countess of Harrington."
The
servants both greeted her deferentially, then began the process of introducing
the countess to the one hundred and thirty-three staff required to maintain the
house and grounds. Gideon knew the number by heart since he reviewed the
payroll monthly. He could also name almost all of them on sight except for the
few that Mrs. Gladstone had hired most recently. As they made their way he
asked after children, pets and health as matched each retainer. He also
assessed the staff that his steward Philip Gladstone had suggested might be
interested in pensioning in the next year or so. Philip was the last staff
member to be introduced and Gideon saw he was carrying his satchel in case
there should be any immediate questions about the household or finances.
Gideon
turned to his wife. "Would you like to rest before dinner, my love?"
She
still looked a bit pale and shocked but answered him steadily enough.
"That would be lovely."
He
gave her into the care of Mrs. Gladstone and watched her walk up the steps. It
occurred to him that they hadn't argued all day. Perhaps this wouldn't be the
disaster that it at first seemed, but time would tell.
Jack
followed Mrs. Gladstone upstairs and through a wide, sunny hallway. The
housekeeper chatted amicably about the furniture and paintings in the hall
while Jack tried to take in her surroundings.
"And
these are your quarters, my Lady," the housekeeper said, opening double
doors. The room beyond was devastatingly beautiful. The tall wooden doors opened
into a sitting room decorated in light blue, gold, and pale yellow. It gave the
overall effect of sunshine on a beautiful summer day. Stepping inside, Jack
could tell that the room had been rather hastily cleaned and aired out. Dust
motes still hung in the air, and the scent was stale from disuse. But oh, the
soaring ceilings, delicate furniture, and soothing colors. She ran her hand
over the silk covering on the tiny settee. The room was exquisite.
"Happy
we are to have you here, my Lady," Mrs. Gladstone said. The matronly woman
had tears welling in her eyes. "We had given up on his Lord choosing a
bride. But we always knew that if he did you would be quite the perfect lady.
Sensible his Lord is. Not like his father, God rest his soul.”
It
wouldn't do to explain to the housekeeper what a horrible accident the marriage
had been. Instead Jack smiled and said, "Why don't you tell me about the
room? It's quite beautiful.”
Mrs.
Gladstone proceeded to do just that, describing both the history and
significance of all the paintings and furniture. The last countess had redone
the entire suite
,
except her husband had put his
foot down and not let her replace the bed that had been in their family for
generations. His reasoning, said Mrs. Gladstone, was that "every Earl of
Harrington has been born in that bed and if I have any say every one of us
shall." His last will and testament had even dictated that the bed could
not be removed. As a consequence the bedroom was dominated by the
huge dark wood piece, almost medieval in style, that
the previous countess had attempted to disguise under pale blue and yellow
drapes.
Jack
thanked Mrs. Gladstone for her time, agreed that yes she would need to have a
lady's maid assigned to her. She closed the door and, once alone, sank down on
the bed and stared at the ceiling. My, how things had changed. Still exhausted
from the stress of the last two days she drifted off to sleep again.
Gideon
knocked on the connecting door that led to his wife's suite. Not hearing a response
he pushed the door open and paused. Looking at the pale blue and gold panels brought
memories of his mother flooding back. The airy, innocent look of the room was
in stark contrast to the woman she had been. High-strung. Demanding.
Neglectful. When he was a child it could be weeks, sometimes months between
times he would see her. Every once in a long while his nanny would bring him
here, where his mother would fuss over him until he no longer entertained her.
Or until a servant displeased her, perhaps snagging her hair with a brush or
knocking over one of her perfume bottles. Her shifts from mawkish sweetness to
vengeful harridan could happen so swiftly as to be terrifying.
"Jacqueline?"
he called out, hesitant to walk in any further. Silence greeted him. He became
annoyed that memories of his mother had stopped him and took a deep breath.
Weakness was something he could not abide in himself.
Entering
the room he could see her feet poking beyond the bed hangings. As he approached
he saw that she was asleep again, stretched out cross-wise on the coverlet with
her arms flung to the side. Watching her, the memories of his mother
dissipated. The lamplight from his room spilled across the pale bedding. Her
chest rose and fell with the even breathing of sleep. He felt an impulse to
join her, to awaken her with kisses and gentle strokes. Would she come alive in
his arms again? Would she welcome him, as a wife should, pull him to her body
and encourage a joining? Temptation made him lightheaded. They could both enjoy
it. He was confident that he could fan her naturally passionate nature into a
blaze of need that he could satisfy. But his Jacqueline was primarily a
creature of the mind. As long as she had doubts she would feel betrayed by her
own desires. He knew she had doubts because he had put some of them there
himself out of anger and frustration. But the temptation was so strong he could
nearly taste what it would be like to kiss and nibble at her throat. Could
nearly feel the softness of stroking her hip, her breast. Before he could be
swayed by his own desires he touched her foot to wake her. She jolted and then
drew back when she saw him. He watched as she sat up and rubbed at her eyes. He
had indeed made the right decision not to bed her at this juncture.
"What
time is it?" she asked, sounding sleepy and disoriented.
He
pulled his watch from its pocket and tilted it toward the light. "Nearly
seven. Would you like to have dinner brought to your room or eat in the dining
room downstairs? My apologies that I didn't think to ask you that
earlier."
She
looked at him strangely then answered. "I think the dining room would be
more appropriate. The staff will want to know more about me and how we will all
get on together."
"You
have a point. But if they think we are in here being inappropriate it will fuel
the gossip of our love match."
She
seemed to think for a moment. "Clever. And I would certainly appreciate
more time to consider what I've gotten myself into."
"Do
you mind if I dine with you?"
"Of
course not. Besides, it is important for maintaining the ruse."
He
moved to the window to look out on the gardens in the pale light of the rising
moon. "You can redecorate your rooms, of course. We can discuss budgets
tomorrow if you like."
"Redecorate?
There's no need."
"It
is customary for the countess to change her suite to her taste."
She
had joined him at the window, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. "But
this is lovely. Blue is my favorite color." He saw that she was twisting
her wedding ring on her finger.
"So
I don't need to buy you one of those in every color?"
She
smiled down on the ring. "No, indeed you don't."
"Is
it uncomfortable? There was no time to consider a fitting."
"Perhaps
a bit loose, but mostly just different. I don't usually wear jewelry. I'm sure
I'll become accustomed to it in time.” She looked at him more keenly. “Does the
room bother you?"
"It
reminds me of my mother."
"I
take it that's not a good thing?"
"Not
in the least."
"Very
well then, we can redecorate. Perhaps I can take inspiration from this ring and
the bed, something more in a medieval mode with a darker blue and gold."
Gideon
clenched his jaw. No weakness. "No, if you like it we can leave it as it
is for now. Perhaps later you will decide on something you want."
She
smiled up at him. "Well, bookcases certainly. I could use some bookcases."
"I'll
have to show you the library soon."
He
watched her brighten at the suggestion. "Yes, soon."
"Not
tonight, though," he cautioned. More lightly he added, "The staff
wouldn't understand that it would be part of a seduction for you."
She
laughed. "Nor should we tell them it could be a reenactment."
Gideon
saw that she realized what she'd said because she began to blush. "Perhaps
we can dine in my suite?" he suggested. "No memories of my mother in
there."
"Of
course," she agreed.
"And
for our... ruse, I suggest you change into a nightgown and robe to dine."
She
blushed again but nodded.
He
pointed to the door he had entered through. "When you are ready just come
through there. I will send for our dinner shortly."
Jack
found that her clothing had been arranged in her dressing room while she slept.
Of the three trunks she had brought one had contained clothing, the other two
being mostly filled with books and mementos. Her maid had been at a loss with
what to do with those and had just left the trunks propped open. Having
familiarized herself with where things were she couldn't think of anything else
to delay going to Harrington's rooms. She pulled the sash on her robe tighter
and then tied it with a double knot. She had decided to wear her hair down
considering the picture they were trying to paint, but as a result of that and
the scant clothing, she felt very vulnerable. Taking a deep breath she walked
across to the open door he had indicated earlier and knocked lightly.
"Come
in," he said.
She
ducked around the door and found the earl standing at the door to what must be
his own sitting room. He was also dressed in a robe, his of silk in a deep ruby
color. Just seeing him also in such a state of undress made her cheeks heat
again. Glancing around the room she saw that it was done in warm autumnal
colors, very subtle and masculine, with an emphasis on polished wood. Her gaze
skipped nervously over the bed and her fingers started worrying the end of her
sash. Gideon walked over to her and cupped his warm hands gently on her
shoulders.
"Do
you trust me?" he asked.