that almost every bedroom had a view of the gardens, which were considered to be some of the most spectacular in England.
The carriage rolled to a halt, and Charles turned to Louisa with what she knew was intended to be a reassuring smile. The journey had been longer than anticipated due to the sodden roads up north, but at least now the sun was shining.
They were both travel weary, and though he didn’t show it, surely he had to be nervous at his reception. Her grave sin was marrying without her father’s permission or approval, but least she had married the son of a duke. Charles, on the other hand, had severed an agreement between the duke and his best friend and. to compound that, wed a woman who was far beneath him in social standing.
Reclined on the opposite seat, his legs casually extended, he said calmly, “It was certainly the best journey of my life, but it is good to be home.”
That is, if it still
was
his home.
“I do not know about you, my love, but I could use a hot cup of tea,” he added, running his fingers through his dark hair.
She had gotten quieter and quieter the closer they’d come, and she merely nodded. Maybe she was more practical than he was, but she had to wonder if he wasn’t being far too optimistic about his—their—reception.
The door opened and a young footman dressed in the duke’s livery stepped back to let him exit. “Lord Charles. It is good to see you.”
“Good afternoon, Henry.” He clambered out and reached into the vehicle to assist her to alight. “It is nice to be out of that blasted carriage. Scotland is a fair piece from here.”
“Yes, sir.”
The frank referral to their elopement was startling but he was probably used to the servants knowing everything. His arrival with his bride would no doubt cause another wave of whispers. As Louisa had been raised in the village, she knew some of the staff personally, and her change in status to daughter-in-law of the august duke would no doubt be awkward.
Wonderful
.
Then there was his family. Lucien would accept their marriage, Charles had told her, of that he had no doubt. Under his sophisticated exterior, his older brother was much more sentimental than what he allowed the world to see, and part of that included a fierce loyalty to family. Charles claimed he had turned to him often for advice as he came of age, and Lucien had helped him out of more than one scrape in the past.
He hadn’t elaborated on what he expected from his father.
Louisa’s hand trembled slightly in his as they went up the steps. “It looks enormous enough from afar, but I had no idea it was quite so . . . imposing.” It was true. The sheer size of the structure, not to mention the park surrounding it, was daunting.
He shrugged. “It’s ridiculously large, I agree. My ancestors believed in grandeur, apparently, but when it comes down to it, darling, it is just a house.”
She laughed. It wasn’t much, a small, choked sound, but it was better than the silence as they’d rolled up the drive. “No, Charles, the vicarage with its six rooms and tiny garden is a house. This is quite different. I realize we are man and wife, but you are going to have to remember that we will never be able to change that you are the son of a duke, and I am essentially a country girl.”
“Might I argue that you are better read than many of the coy young ladies in London’s elite circles?”
She was well educated, for while he was austere and rigid, her father had insisted his three daughters be taught at least the basics of reading and mathematics. Louisa had excelled at both, but at that moment the door opened and his father’s butler stood there, so she didn’t comment on how much the compliment touched her.
Was it her imagination or was there a second of hesitation before the elderly man stepped aside to allow them entry into the main foyer?
“Lord Charles.”
“Mandrake, this is my wife, Louisa.”
“A pleasure, madam.” Ageless
The carriage rolled to a halt, and Charles turned to Louisa with what she knew was intended to be a reassuring smile. The journey had been longer than anticipated due to the sodden roads up north, but at least now the sun was shining.
They were both travel weary, and though he didn’t show it, surely he had to be nervous at his reception. Her grave sin was marrying without her father’s permission or approval, but least she had married the son of a duke. Charles, on the other hand, had severed an agreement between the duke and his best friend and. to compound that, wed a woman who was far beneath him in social standing.
Reclined on the opposite seat, his legs casually extended, he said calmly, “It was certainly the best journey of my life, but it is good to be home.”
That is, if it still
was
his home.
“I do not know about you, my love, but I could use a hot cup of tea,” he added, running his fingers through his dark hair.
She had gotten quieter and quieter the closer they’d come, and she merely nodded. Maybe she was more practical than he was, but she had to wonder if he wasn’t being far too optimistic about his—their—reception.
The door opened and a young footman dressed in the duke’s livery stepped back to let him exit. “Lord Charles. It is good to see you.”
“Good afternoon, Henry.” He clambered out and reached into the vehicle to assist her to alight. “It is nice to be out of that blasted carriage. Scotland is a fair piece from here.”
“Yes, sir.”
The frank referral to their elopement was startling but he was probably used to the servants knowing everything. His arrival with his bride would no doubt cause another wave of whispers. As Louisa had been raised in the village, she knew some of the staff personally, and her change in status to daughter-in-law of the august duke would no doubt be awkward.
Wonderful
.
Then there was his family. Lucien would accept their marriage, Charles had told her, of that he had no doubt. Under his sophisticated exterior, his older brother was much more sentimental than what he allowed the world to see, and part of that included a fierce loyalty to family. Charles claimed he had turned to him often for advice as he came of age, and Lucien had helped him out of more than one scrape in the past.
He hadn’t elaborated on what he expected from his father.
Louisa’s hand trembled slightly in his as they went up the steps. “It looks enormous enough from afar, but I had no idea it was quite so . . . imposing.” It was true. The sheer size of the structure, not to mention the park surrounding it, was daunting.
He shrugged. “It’s ridiculously large, I agree. My ancestors believed in grandeur, apparently, but when it comes down to it, darling, it is just a house.”
She laughed. It wasn’t much, a small, choked sound, but it was better than the silence as they’d rolled up the drive. “No, Charles, the vicarage with its six rooms and tiny garden is a house. This is quite different. I realize we are man and wife, but you are going to have to remember that we will never be able to change that you are the son of a duke, and I am essentially a country girl.”
“Might I argue that you are better read than many of the coy young ladies in London’s elite circles?”
She was well educated, for while he was austere and rigid, her father had insisted his three daughters be taught at least the basics of reading and mathematics. Louisa had excelled at both, but at that moment the door opened and his father’s butler stood there, so she didn’t comment on how much the compliment touched her.
Was it her imagination or was there a second of hesitation before the elderly man stepped aside to allow them entry into the main foyer?
“Lord Charles.”
“Mandrake, this is my wife, Louisa.”
“A pleasure, madam.” Ageless
Similar Books
