Regency Collection 2013 Part 1. Louise Allen
her failure to ask made her appear uninterested in her new spouse …
It was all becoming very confusing.
He cleared his throat. ‘This brother of yours. Is he a printer as well?’ There was a pause. ‘Because the servant mentioned that your father had been. And I thought, perhaps, family business …’ He trailed off, displaying none of the eloquence that she had expected from him. Apparently, he was as uncomfortable in his ignorance as she was with hers.
She smiled and looked back at him. ‘Yes. It is a family business. My father loved it dearly, and the books as well. And reading them, of course. He and Mother named us from the classics. My brother’s name is Hector. Father always said that education was a great equaliser.’
‘It is fortunate that a lack of education does not work in the same way. I was sent down from Oxford. It has had little effect on my status.’
They fell silent, again. She longed to ask why he had been forced to leave Oxford, but did not wish to seem impertinent. Was he like her brother had been, unimpressed by her desire for scholarship?
If so, he was biding his time before making the fact known. He’d had ample opportunity in the last few days to point out her foolishness over the translation. But he had said nothing yet.
‘Marriage is also a great equaliser,’ he said, to no one in particular.
Did he mean to refer to her sudden rise in society? If so, it was most unfair of him. She looked at him sharply. ‘Apparently so. For once we reach the bank, your fortune shall be the equal of mine.’
She noted the flash of surprise in his eyes, as though she had struck him. And she waited with some trepidation for the response.
Then his face cleared, and he laughed. And suddenly she was sharing the carriage with the man she thought she had married. ‘Touché. I expect I will hear similar sentiments once my friends get wind of our happy union, but I had not expected to hear them from my own wife. I recommend, madam, that you save some of that sharp tongue to respond to those that wish to offer you false compliments on your most fortunate marriage.’
People would talk.
Well, of course they would. Why had she not realised the fact? And they would talk in a way that they never would have had she married the drunken nobody she was seeking. She was a duchess.
She would be noticed. And people would laugh.
A hand touched her, and she jumped, and realised that she had forgotten she was not alone in the carriage. She looked up into the face of her new husband, and read the concern on his face.
‘Are you all right?’ He said it very deliberately, as though he expected her to misunderstand. ‘For a moment, you looked quite ill.’
‘It is nothing. We have been travelling for some time, and the trip …’ She let her words drift away, allowing him to make what he would of them.
‘Shall I tell the driver to stop?’
‘No, really. I will be fine.’
‘Perhaps if we switch seats—a change of direction might help.’ He took her hands and pulled her up off her bench, rising and pivoting gracefully in the tight space of the rocking carriage, to take her place and give her his. Then he pulled the shade on the window so that the moving scenery did not addle her gaze.
‘Thank you.’ She did still feel somewhat faint at the realisation of what she had done by marrying, and the impact it might have on the rest of her life. The distant and strange idea occurred to her that her husband was being most helpful and understanding about the whole thing. And that it might be nice to sit beside him, and rest her head against his shoulder for a time, until the world stopped spinning around her.
Which was a ludicrous idea. He was solicitous, but he had done nothing to make her think she was welcome to climb into his coat pocket. She looked at him again, even more beautiful in his concern for her, and closed her eyes against the realisation that they were a ridiculous study in contrast. A casual observer could not help but comment on it.
If he noticed the clamminess of her hand, which he still held, he did not comment, but reached out with his other hand as well, to rub some warmth back into the fingers. ‘We will be in the city soon. You will feel much better, I am sure, once we have had some refreshment and a change of clothes.’
She certainly hoped so, for she doubted that she could feel any worse.
Chapter Five
When she opened her eyes a while later, the carriage was pulling up in front of a row of fine houses, and he tapped on the door, waiting for the servants to open it and put down the step. Then he descended and offered his hand to her. ‘My dear?’
She reached out nervously to take it, while her mind raced to argue that she was in no way dear to him. The endearment was both inaccurate and unnecessary.
He saw the look in her eyes, and said, before she could speak, ‘It might go easier with the servants if we maintain a pretence of familiarity. They will obey you, in any case. They would be foolish not to. But all the same …’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, Adam.’ There. She had said his name.
A footman opened the door before them, and she entered on the arm of the duke, who greeted the butler with a curt, ‘Assemble the staff. Immediately.’
The man disappeared. He reappeared a short time later, accompanied by what Penny assumed must be the cook and the housekeeper, and, as she watched, an assortment of maids and footmen appeared from various entrances, lining up in an orderly row behind them.
She counted them. It must be a great house, as he had said, to need a staff so large. The home she had managed for her brother had made do with a staff of four. She reminded herself with some firmness that they were only servants and it did not do to show her fear of them.
The duke looked out over the small crowd assembled. ‘I have called you all out from below stairs for an announcement. On my recent trip north, things did not go quite as expected.’ He paused. ‘Actually, they went much better than I expected. I married.’
There was an audible gasp from the room, before the servants managed to regain control of their emotions.
‘May I present her Grace, the Duchess of Bellston—’
Before she could stop herself, she felt her knees begin to curtsy to the non-existent duchess, and her husband’s hand came out to lift her back to her feet.
‘—formerly, Miss Penelope Winthorpe. In celebration of this fact, you may all take the rest of the day off, to do as you will.’
There was an unexpected moment of tension.
‘With pay, of course,’ he added, and she could feel the staff relax again. ‘We will be dining out. You need do nothing on our behalf until breakfast.’
The gasp had turned to a murmur of excitement, as the staff realised their good fortune.
‘Three cheers for his Grace and the new lady of the house.’ The butler made an offer of ‘huzzah’ sound subdued and polite, but she accepted it with pleasure, as did her husband. ‘Thank you. And now, you are dismissed. Enjoy the rest of your day.’
As quickly as they had gathered, the staff evaporated.
She looked at him, waiting for some indication of what was to be done next.
He glanced around him, seeking inspiration. ‘Perhaps, a tour of the rooms would be in order. And then we will refresh ourselves, before a trip to your bankers.’
She nodded. ‘An excellent plan. Please, your Grace, lead the way.’
He flinched. ‘Remember, I am to be Adam to you. And you shall be?’ He cocked his head to the side. ‘Do you prefer Penelope, or are you a Penny?’
‘Penny.’