His grin deepened, for he was, and it was. “Forgive me. It is merely that I am a tall man, and I grow easily cramped when in quarters such as this.”
The car was well-appointed and of a decent size. However, he was not about to admit that. Now that he had found a means of distracting her from her reading, he was going to continue pursuing it.
And her.
“Perhaps you might fetch the basket,” she suggested. “And some claret as well.”
“You are hungry after all, Pippa?” he asked, relieved he no longer ever had to refer to her asMrs. Shaw.
You may have won her once, Shaw, but she is mine now.
Perhaps it was wrong of him to crow to a dead man, but when the dead man in question had been a conscienceless liar, Roland felt reasonably certain the spirits would forgive him. Indeed, they ought to be on his side.
Just as Pippa should.
But it would take time, he knew, to win the woman he had married. Fortunately, they had the rest of their lives. This train journey was but the beginning.
“I find I am rather hungry, yes,” she said softly. “If you would be so kind.”
His spirits were buoyed considerably. “Of course.”
There had not been a fourththank you, and she had requested he procure food and claret. A glass between them might go a long way toward melting her ice. No need to tossTit-Bitsfrom their car just yet.
Her gaze went back to the journal in her lap. “Thank you. I was just about to read an accounting of Garrick’s debut on the stage inRichard III.”
“Scintillating, I am sure,” he quipped.
But still, as he ventured to the car to purchase a luncheon basket, he could not keep the smile from his lips.
This was progress, he thought.
Painstakingly incremental, but necessary nonetheless.
Chapter 12
The hour was late by the time Pippa found herself settled in her apartments at Wylde Park. Charlotte’s nap on the lengthy train ride had lent itself to an uncharacteristic burst of extended energy. Northwich had presented them to the skeletal staff in residence and had then taken them on a tour of the house and gardens. To Charlotte’s delight, she had discovered there was not just one fountain in the gardens here, but five. There were endless birds and butterflies to chase as well.
She had skipped about happily following dinner, until finally being shepherded to the nursery by Croydon, who remained as disapproving as ever. But the innocent happiness of her daughter, coupled with Northwich’s kindness and patience over the course of the journey, had done wonders for Pippa’s overset nerves.
For the first time, as she surveyed her new surroundings, the weight had been lifted from her chest. The fear and trepidation which had haunted her as mercilessly as a ghost in London had somehow dissipated with every hour that had taken them farther away from the city and deeper into the countryside.
Primrose took down her hair and helped her out of her dinner gown, which was a far more elaborate affair than her simple blue travel weeds had been. The lady’s maid then helped her out of her cumbersome undergarments, including her corset, which had become too large for Pippa and slid about uncomfortably beneath her gown despite it being tight-laced. Finally, she aided Pippa in donning her night rail and dressing gown.
“I may try to remove some of the boning in this corset,” Primrose said, frowning at the yellow satin undergarment which had been crafted for Pippa in Paris at George’s insistence.
She had lost weight, and she knew it. None of her gowns or undergarments fit her as they once had. Eating, since George’s death, had given her little pleasure. And since her discovery of his duplicity, it had given her even less. Her stomach was forever tied in knots.
“I believe some of my gowns ought to be taken in as well,” she admitted. “They are sagging in the bodice.”
“I would be happy to do so, Your Grace.”
How wrong it felt, to be called by that title. For so long, she had been Mrs. Shaw.
You are married now, she reminded herself.
You are the Duchess of Northwich.
“Please do call me Pippa, Primrose. I insist. And tell me, if you please, what do you think of His Grace?” she asked her lady’s maid as the other woman ran a brush through Pippa’s unbound hair.
