scorned from the marriage bed.”
His barbed remark struck much too close to home. “Black,” Landon warned.
His solicitor tucked his chin close to his chest. “Forgive me, teasing is not my best quality.”
“No.”
“And where is the lovely Lady Montague this afternoon?”
“She and the countess are at the dressmaker’s. We are going to the opera on the seventeenth with Scarborough.”
At the mention of the name, Amos’s brows arched in question. “Opera. I see.”
Landon ignored it and focused his gaze on the ceiling. “The countess accepted, not I.”
Amos chuckled. “She will never let you out of this bargain, I fear.”
“You may be right.”
“Does the countess know that you have slept apart?”
Landon stared down at his outstretched legs and studied the toes of his boots. “I do not believe so.”
“You must do something for the longer those two women are together, the more she will probe. Like one of England’s best spymasters, she will discover the deception.”
“I know. Lady Juliet has proved to be a challenge.”
“You have had challenges before.”
“True.” Landon sighed. “Yet, never before have I been married to one.”
“Nor she and on such short notice. A young girl, no mother, spent her life secluded in rural England,” Amos droned on. “Put yourself in this frame of mind. If she were girl coming into her first season, how would you woo her?”
“Woo her? We are wed?”
“Ah.” Amos held up a finger. “Wed, yes, but in name only. You have in some ways put your cart before the horse. Now, Lord Montague, you must convince the lovely lady that she is the love of your life.”
Landon ran a finger beneath his bottom lip. Amos had a point. Other than the conversation at Holly Grove and the few words spoken in the carriage back to Broadmoor, nothing had been said. They were almost strangers. God, he was a dunce. Slowly, he began to nod. “I believe your argument has valid points, Black, and I shall undertake to rectify this situation.” He rose from his chair. “A refill and we shall toast to my success.”
***
“Done, milady.” Helen handed her the mirror.
Juliet held it aloft to glimpse the intricate figure eight she had devised. “You are a wonder. I fear I could get used to this.”
“As you should, milady.” Helen smiled as she picked up the clothes Juliet had worn earlier in the day from the bed.
“Lord Montague was quite taken with your accomplishments this morning. I’m sure he will be just as pleased with your efforts this evening.”
“Keeping your husband interested is the name of the game.” Helen turned away and hung the dress on the hook behind the closet door. “I will get this clean in the morning, milady. Shall I lay out your night dress?”
“Yes, please. I will ring for you when I’m ready to change. Thank you, Helen. I was unsure when we first met, but I am very glad to know you are here to help me.”
“Of course, milady, have a good evening.” Helen bowed her head and opened the door for Juliet to leave.
Walking down the hallway, she watched as the afternoon sun took away the gloominess of the night. She paused to admire some of the portraits before moving down the stairs to the drawing room. Earlier in the day, the dowager had asked if she was accomplished in needlework. Juliet had admitted that she could knit. The dowager produced a basket of yarn and needles.
Perhaps working on a shawl would settle her nerves. Opening the door, she was taken back to see Simmons in the room. Dust rag in his left hand, he paused and blinked.
“Did you need the room, milady?”
“I only wish to work on my knitting. Please, carry on.” She moved into the room and sat down in the chair next to the window.
“I was just finishing, milady. Shall I light the lamp for you?”
“Not quite yet.” Juliet brought her needles together. “How is young Alexander?”
Simmons placed his rag in a wooden bucket and moved toward the
His barbed remark struck much too close to home. “Black,” Landon warned.
His solicitor tucked his chin close to his chest. “Forgive me, teasing is not my best quality.”
“No.”
“And where is the lovely Lady Montague this afternoon?”
“She and the countess are at the dressmaker’s. We are going to the opera on the seventeenth with Scarborough.”
At the mention of the name, Amos’s brows arched in question. “Opera. I see.”
Landon ignored it and focused his gaze on the ceiling. “The countess accepted, not I.”
Amos chuckled. “She will never let you out of this bargain, I fear.”
“You may be right.”
“Does the countess know that you have slept apart?”
Landon stared down at his outstretched legs and studied the toes of his boots. “I do not believe so.”
“You must do something for the longer those two women are together, the more she will probe. Like one of England’s best spymasters, she will discover the deception.”
“I know. Lady Juliet has proved to be a challenge.”
“You have had challenges before.”
“True.” Landon sighed. “Yet, never before have I been married to one.”
“Nor she and on such short notice. A young girl, no mother, spent her life secluded in rural England,” Amos droned on. “Put yourself in this frame of mind. If she were girl coming into her first season, how would you woo her?”
“Woo her? We are wed?”
“Ah.” Amos held up a finger. “Wed, yes, but in name only. You have in some ways put your cart before the horse. Now, Lord Montague, you must convince the lovely lady that she is the love of your life.”
Landon ran a finger beneath his bottom lip. Amos had a point. Other than the conversation at Holly Grove and the few words spoken in the carriage back to Broadmoor, nothing had been said. They were almost strangers. God, he was a dunce. Slowly, he began to nod. “I believe your argument has valid points, Black, and I shall undertake to rectify this situation.” He rose from his chair. “A refill and we shall toast to my success.”
***
“Done, milady.” Helen handed her the mirror.
Juliet held it aloft to glimpse the intricate figure eight she had devised. “You are a wonder. I fear I could get used to this.”
“As you should, milady.” Helen smiled as she picked up the clothes Juliet had worn earlier in the day from the bed.
“Lord Montague was quite taken with your accomplishments this morning. I’m sure he will be just as pleased with your efforts this evening.”
“Keeping your husband interested is the name of the game.” Helen turned away and hung the dress on the hook behind the closet door. “I will get this clean in the morning, milady. Shall I lay out your night dress?”
“Yes, please. I will ring for you when I’m ready to change. Thank you, Helen. I was unsure when we first met, but I am very glad to know you are here to help me.”
“Of course, milady, have a good evening.” Helen bowed her head and opened the door for Juliet to leave.
Walking down the hallway, she watched as the afternoon sun took away the gloominess of the night. She paused to admire some of the portraits before moving down the stairs to the drawing room. Earlier in the day, the dowager had asked if she was accomplished in needlework. Juliet had admitted that she could knit. The dowager produced a basket of yarn and needles.
Perhaps working on a shawl would settle her nerves. Opening the door, she was taken back to see Simmons in the room. Dust rag in his left hand, he paused and blinked.
“Did you need the room, milady?”
“I only wish to work on my knitting. Please, carry on.” She moved into the room and sat down in the chair next to the window.
“I was just finishing, milady. Shall I light the lamp for you?”
“Not quite yet.” Juliet brought her needles together. “How is young Alexander?”
Simmons placed his rag in a wooden bucket and moved toward the
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