“I don’t think you grasp the magnitude of what you expect, as not even Windsor Castle boasts such creature comforts. We’d be better off than the Queen of England.”
A waiter chose that moment to interrupt with the tea tray. The man arranged the teapot, cups and saucers, and dishes of milk and sugar on the table.
Taking tea was a treat among New York society. Louisa had only enjoyed such a spread during her engagement luncheon at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Caroline Vanderheid had instructed the belles on the proper etiquette for ‘pouring out’, and Louisa did her best to navigate the delicate china service now.
“Holmes and Watson were a waste of time,” she huffed. “I should’ve studied something more genteel, like Austen.”
“The works of Mrs. Gaskell might prove more to your tastes,” her husband replied, managing his cup and saucer with ease. “There are themes of women’s industry, worker’s rights, and the importance of community. Her stories can be quite gritty at times, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”
Lord Granborough encouraged Louisa to explore outside the lines that had been drawn for her. He encouraged her to read erotic novels, for goodness sake!
He stirred a dash of milk into his tea, quietly contemplating the steaming brew.
“Louisa…what if you dislike England?” he asked, placing the spoon upon the saucer. “What if you fail to make friends?”
She shrugged, for making friends had never been a problem. Louisa felt certain she’d meet like-minded ladies in his world. “Don’t your friends have wives? You can introduce us.”
He gaped at her over his teacup in mock horror. “I don’t want you anywhere near my friends’ wives—they are dangerous influences.” He took a drink, and then grew serious. “I do admire your bravery, though, in moving halfway ‘round the world with me. I chalk it up to your American sense of adventure.”
She lowered her cup onto the saucer and confessed, “Our marriage was my ticket out.”
“From what on Earth did you wish to escape? You’ve lived a charmed life, Louisa.”
Shehadlived a charmed life, but there were times when it rang hollow. “I’m not part of Mrs. Astor’s famed Four Hundred. My father makes carpet. Although I am proud of Pappa’s hard work, we’d never be accepted into the highest rungs of society no matter how hard my mother tried. I grew weary of always putting on a show.”
He studied her intently as she continued, “Can you imagine taking a cottage in Newport, yet never being allowed to enjoy the sea? Affording the best dressmakers from New York to Paris, yet never choosing my own clothes for fear of what some bored old matron might think? It’s maddening! My entire existence was theatrically arranged for the amusement of other people.”
“I thought you Knickerbockers knew freedom…”
She shook her head. “I told you, it’s an illusion. The only freedom we’ll ever truly know is that which we carve out for ourselves.”
She’d been given the best education, the finest wardrobe, and the most sumptuous settings in which to show off her accomplishments, yet Louisa had never felt seen until Lord Granborough had pinned her on the dance floor with two shrewd blue eyes. For better or worse, she had sensed he was her destiny.
“I know enough about English society to understand that once you attain rank and fortune, you’re settled for life. You arein.I wanted what you promised me, Giles—no more striving, no more grasping, no more pretending.”
He appeared distressed at her admission. Did His Lordship dislike the idea of being used? She hadn’t loved him any more than he’d loved her in those early days, yet Louisa hoped their marriage would be a stepping-stone toward an honest, useful life in an old and interesting part of the world.
“As Marchioness of Granborough,” he said, “you’ve certainly secured a fine position for yourself…”
“Exactly.” She reached across the tea table to take his hand. “I am as much a product of my circumstances as you are of yours. We’re fortunate to have found each other, for you and I are friends, at least.”
“Friends, are we?” He squeezed her fingers in a rhythm that brought a flush of heat to her belly. His voice filled with longing as he whispered, “Would you not call us lovers?”
She would be his friend, his lover, his partner. Whatever he needed her to be.
First, she had taught him to trust her. Now, to want her. Soon, Lord Granborough would seek her help whenever the hardships of his life overwhelmed him.
She would prove an unfailing support to him if only he would lower the shade and let her in.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
He and Louisa had lingered until the teapot went cold, ignoring the call of the dressing bell. He’d lost track of time, engaged in heartfelt conversation, and had relished in the deeper understanding they’d gained.
After tea, they descended the grand staircase. The main deck, where their stateroom suite was situated, teemed with passengers coming in from the cold or returning from an afternoon spent in the fire-lit smoking room. A long queue gathered at the purser’s desk as three floors of first-class ladies waited to collect their jewelry for the evening.
Louisa frowned at the line. “I wanted to wear my diamonds tonight.”
He cringed at the idea, for it would take an hour or more of waiting. He tugged her away from the gathering. “Come, dear, you don’t need them. You’re beautiful without their embellishment.”
