Ellen, out of her depth, smiled uneasily at him. He seemed nice enough, but she felt uncertain about how to behave like Lady Tewkbury. She was but a mere schoolmistress, after all. Not a proper lady.
CHAPTER NINE
The coach rattled through the countryside, and the child had finally fallen asleep. Edmund was trying to do the same as he leaned back with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. But sleep eluded him. She—that is, the schoolmistress who was now his wife—Ellen—must remember her name—had put the child's head on her lap and carefully spread a woollen blanket over the child's body. Very maternal behaviour, he thought, especially towards a child who wasn't hers. He knew from personal experience that not all women were so motherly, and her behaviour struck him as oddly pleasant. That, in turn, surprised him because he hadn't realised that was a trait he liked in women.
He'd watched her through half-closed lashes as she stared out of the window, chewing on her lower lip. He wondered if she regretted their marriage. He wondered what she thought of the ridiculous situation he'd put her in. He wondered what she thought of him. No, he didn't; he'd rather not know. Not that it mattered, because it was too late for regrets now.
Odds fish, he really ought to stop thinking so much; this exertion only addled his brain.
She wasn't exactly beautiful, with her wide mouth and deep-set green eyes. There were a few freckles on her cheeks, which he found charming, but which no doubt caused her much distress, as freckles were decidedly frowned upon and out of fashion. Her most beautiful feature was her hair, which was now tied back and tucked under one of Mme Minion's bonnets. She wore a blue velvet carriage dress, with a matching pelisse and gloves, and looked all the crack.
In short, she looked like Lady Tewkbury.
He approved.
This morning he'd merely nodded at her when they'd met in the dining room for breakfast. She'd looked beautiful in her new dress, and he hadn't known what to say to her now that they were married. Anyway, there had been little time to talk as the servants had bustled about packing and stowing their trunks in the carriage.
For today, they were off to Dunworthy House.
The coach drove through rolling hills and meadows. He didn't need to open his eyes to take in the scenery; he knew it all too well. After all, he'd spent his childhood here, scrambling across the fields with Dunstan, falling out of trees and half-drowning in the nearby stream. Aye, he admitted he had some childhood memories he was fond of.
Not all had been dominated by fear.
Not everything had been struggle and strife. He sighed. Most of the time, he preferred not to think about his childhood. He hadn't in a long time, and he did not intend to begin now. Yes, he knew it well, that stretch of land they were passing through, bordering on Dobberham's estate, and seeing it caused a pain deep in his heart that he'd rather not feel. He was wise to keep his eyes tightly shut.
By the changing sound of the gravel under the wheels, Edmund could tell that they were entering the park, where the sweeping chestnut avenue led up to a sweeping Palladian mansion: Dunworthy House.
Dobberham's estate was handsome, to say the least. He liked to show off his mansion, and his wife threw the most lavish and elaborate house parties in England. There would inevitably be picnics, excursions and at least one glamorous ball, if not two.
Lady Louisa Dobberham did not believe in segregating the sexes. While she allowed the men to pursue their activities of hunting, fishing and shooting in the morning, she insisted they return punctually at midday to spend the afternoon with the ladies. It was unorthodox, but she was Lady Dobberham, and it was her house party, and she could do as she pleased.
"I refuse to sit indoors on a perfectly sunny day, embroidery or reading, while the men are out enjoying themselves. Besides, they have had their share of fun in the morning, doing their sports. In the afternoon, I insist they devote their time to us ladies."
As a result, Louisa's parties were hugely popular.
She was known as a meddlesome matchmaker, and the whole purpose was to match up all their guests. Every minute was spent in games, activities, musicals, plays, picnics, outings and many other things that forced the men to interact with the women. It would be no different this time.
Dobberham and his wife stood at the entrance, greeting their guests.
"Tewkbury." Dobberham grinned. "You made it. And Lady Tewkbury. Welcome. My wife, Lady Louisa Dobberham."
Louisa was a petite lady with strawberry-blonde curls. She looked like a delicate porcelain doll that might break if she fell, but her appearance belied reality: the lady was a whirlwind of energy and as strong-willed and unbending as iron. Dunstan liked to joke that she was the real man of the house. In fact, before they'd married, she'd had a somewhat scandalous reputation for being wild and flighty, dressing in men's clothes, riding astride and smoking cigars. Dunstan had told Edmund he'd adored her from the first moment he'd set eyes on her. For some reason, she'd fallen in love with him, too. He wasn't eye candy with his paunch and balding head, so Dobberham didn't deceive himself that she married him for his looks. But perhaps his quiet, steady personality was the right anchor for her flightiness. They were an unlikely couple, but it was a love match.
Which meant that Louisa, in particular, would not be easily fooled by his own supposed love match with Ellen. They would have to be very convincing.
Edmund put an arm around Ellen and smiled warmly into her eyes, causing confusion to flicker across her eyes. "My sweet, Dunstan and Louisa are my closest friends. You have met Dunstan, and how happy I am that you are now to meet his wife, Louisa."
Louisa looked at Ellen with open curiosity and took her hand in hers after Edmund had released it. "I cannot tell you how pleased we are to finally make your acquaintance. For the longest time, we were sure that Tewkbury had told us a terrible fib when he said he was married. I wouldn't believe Dobberham at all when he'd mentioned it. But here you are! How wonderful it is." She slipped an arm through hers and walked with her into the cool interior of the large house. "It will be such fun! I have planned a great party, which I hope will be very enjoyable for everyone."
"I'm sure we will enjoy it very much, Lady Dobberham," Ellen replied.
"Please. Call me Louisa. And I may call you Ellen, yes? For we are to be friends, are we not?"
Ellen smiled at her helplessly. "Of course."
Dobberham murmured to Edmund, "She's got every day planned down to the last detail. She gives us barely two hours in the morning to go hunting and fishing."
Lady Dobberham turned and gave him a smile. "You will enjoy it immensely, I promise! Everyone has accepted our invitations and the rest of the guests will arrive in the afternoon. In the meantime, Mrs Mills will show you to your rooms and you can refresh yourselves. It will be so exciting to have newlyweds at our party! Newlyweds in love! I have so many exciting pastimes planned."
