What timewasit? She opened her eyes and looked around the room for a clock. There was none. She had not noticed last night. Her room was fully light, however, and there was a cup of chocolate on the small table beside the bed—with a gray film covering the top of it. It must have been there for at least half an hour. How excruciatingly embarrassing. She threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed—only to realize that she was notwearing anything. She blushed just as though there were someone else in the room to notice.
She could only imagine how everyone would look knowingly at her when she finally appeared in the breakfast parlor.Ifthere was anyone left there, that was. It was altogether possible that everyone was halfway through their busy morning activities by now. She hurried around the bed, pulled on her nightgown, went through to her dressing room, and rang for her maid.
It was not as late as she had feared it might be. When she entered the breakfast parlor twenty minutes later, Lady Catherine and Jenny were still eating at the round table. No one else was there, though. Goodness, where was Lucas? She hoped no one asked, for she surely ought to know. He was herhusband.
“I am so sorry to be late, Lady Catherine,” she said. “There is no clock in my bedchamber.”
“That is inconvenient,” Jenny said. “You must have one taken there today, Pippa.”
Lady Catherine had got to her feet to come and kiss Philippa on the cheek. “It must beAunt Kittynow that you are my niece,” she said. “No, do not sit down, Pippa. You are under strict orders to take breakfast in my mother’s dressing room. You are privileged today. I, who am merely her daughter, must eat here with Jenny, who is merely her granddaughter.” But her eyes twinkled to show that she was not at all offended.
“Oh dear,” Philippa said. “Am I dreadfully late?”
“Not at all,” Aunt Kitty said. “Mama would not have expected you any earlier this morning.”
Philippa drew a few deep breaths as she followed the butler back upstairs and then waited for him to knock upon the duchess’s door and open it to announce her arrival. The Duke of Wilby wasthere too, she saw as she stepped into the room, fully aware that this was the very place where Lucas had proposed marriage to her just the night before last. Despite the instant sense of reality she had felt when she woke earlier, everything now felt just the opposite.
“You will forgive me, perhaps, Granddaughter,” His Grace said, “for not getting to my feet to bid you good morning. I must beg you to come here to kiss my cheek.”
He was seated in a large armchair, looking gray in the face but sharp-eyed nonetheless. And those eyes saw what they were looking for, Philippa believed as she felt her face grow hot. She bent and kissed his cheek, and he took one of her hands in both of his and raised it to his lips.
“How are you this morning, Your Grace?” she asked him.
“All the better for seeing you looking rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed,” he said. “I will feel even better if you will call me Grandpapa.”
“Grandpapa,” she said, smiling. “Release my hand, if you please. I have not yet greeted—”
“Grandmama. You must call me that now,” the duchess said. She was on her feet to greet her, both hands extended. “But, my dear Pippa, you must not allow His Grace to embarrass you. Come and sit here and tell me if you will have tea or coffee while we wait for the food to be brought up.”
“Coffee, please,” Philippa said. “Shall I pour?”
“I will do it this morning,” the duchess said. “You are our guest here, though not in the rest of the house. I hope you understand that even if it takes you a few days to accustom yourself to the change. You are a valued member of our family as of yesterday.”
“Thank you.” Philippa smiled and remembered Lucas telling her that he understood adjusting to marriage must be far more difficult for a woman than for a man. She no longer quite belonged inthe home that had always been hers, not in the same way, at least, he had said, yet she surely must feel an awkwardness with her new family in her new home.
“Now, when do you expect that grandson of mine back from his early morning ride in the park?” the duke asked.
Oh. Had he really gone out? Without a word to her? The morning after their wedding night? Had it all meant nothing to him after all except duty, then? He had said all the right things last night—most of them, anyway—and he had consummated their marriage. He had taken his time over it and had presumably got pleasure from it, but he had not said anything meaningful afterward. He had gone to sleep. Had he merely done what he needed to do in order to accomplish that for which he had married her? What was it he had said to her last night...?To us, Phil. To a marriage of honesty and respect. To a marriage of fidelity to each other. To a marriage of companionship and friendship and—I sincerely hope—affection.
No, she was being silly. Everything he had said and done had been neither chilling nor a mere formality. He hoped for friendship and affection between them. She must not now start imagining that he was going to be cold in the performance of his duty. She would not allow herself to fear that she had made a dreadful mistake.
You have done your duty for one day.He had said that too. And he had called herLady Roathrather thanPhil, the shortened form of her name that had warmed her through to the heart when he had used it because no one else ever had.
“I will not expect him to tell me the exact hour and minute of his return whenever he steps out, Grandpapa,” she said in answer to his question. “Any more than I would expect him to demand it of me. But I do not suppose he will be long.”
But it was the morning after their wedding night.
She had no idea how long he would be. Perhaps he was taking breakfast at one of the gentlemen’s clubs. White’s was the one she knew about. Devlin was a member there. But oh dear, she hoped not. Not this morning. She would feel it as a great humiliation.
It was a huge relief a moment later when a tap upon the door heralded Lucas’s arrival in the room. He was not wearing riding clothes or smelling of horse, Philippa noticed. He had changed and washed and shaved. His eyes alit on her and he smiled.
“My love,” he said as he closed the distance between them, took her hand in his, and raised it to his lips as his grandfather had done a short while ago. “I tried not to wake you when I left your bed. You were sleeping peacefully after what was a very long and busy day yesterday. I took myself off riding. I ought to have left word for your maid to pass on to you when you awoke, however. Did you know where I had gone? I have much to learn about being an attentive husband, I fear.”
My love? His smile held a touch of... roguery? He was speaking to an audience, she thought. Not really to her. She wondered how long it had taken him to compose that little speech and to practice just the expression he would don when he delivered it. But perhaps she was being unfair. Theybothhad much to learn. They had not had the usual betrothal period in which to prepare themselves for being married.
“Thank you, Lucas,” she said, returning his smile. “I appreciated a little extra sleep this morning.”
His eyebrows rose before he turned away to kiss the duchess and bend over his grandfather to inquire after his health.
