She glanced up. “I suspect you’re good at many things.”
She meant it innocently, but awareness flared. They’d touched at last, and now they stood close together, looking into each other’s eyes. He raised her left hand and kissed her knuckle near the ring. It brought him even closer, and she caught his scent. A male scent, but a different one.
Suddenly she wanted to kiss him. And more. She’d thought such fires well banked, but new fuel had been put on the embers. She was hungry for intimacy and ached to do more, much more, here, now, in the parsonage parlor.
He released her hand and moved away. Because he’d sensed her improper desires?
“Have you provided yourself with a lady’s maid?” he asked.
“What?” It took Kitty a moment to make sense of his question and find coherence. “Should I have? I suppose I should. I’ve never had one.”
“Not during your marriage?”
“I used the housemaid when I needed help. I’m sorry.”
“No matter, for I thought of it. I asked my grandmother to send a suitable woman to Gloucester. I collected Miss Oldswick from there, and she’s ready to move with you tothe Abbey tomorrow. For now, she’s resting in the Abbot’s Arms.”
“That sounds rather...”
His lips twitched. “We can hope she’s enjoying it. You don’t approve of my hiring her? You’d rather arrive at the Abbey without?”
“I’m sure it’s ungracious of me, but I’m not accustomed to having my life so managed.”
“And you resented your shackles at Cateril Manor. Miss Oldswick is my aunt’s lady’s maid, and so she’s only on loan, but I can send her back to Lancashire if you wish. However, you could need allies in the Abbey, and she will be firmly on your side.”
“Ah, I see. In that spirit, I thank you.” She found it comforting that they could talk plainly of practical matters. “Why is the dowager so determined to be hostile, when it can do her no good?”
“It is not in her nature to give up on a goal. She plotted the union with Isabella because it would leave control of the Abbey in her hands, but mostly to preserve her bloodline there.”
“One of the oldest baronies in England.”
“I see you heard. But sunk quite low. When she married the fourth viscount, the Godyson family was in genteel, obscure poverty. She built her new grandeur by force of will and made Beauchamp Abbey a seat worthy of a great lord. She expected it to be the beginning of a long line of rich and titled Godyson-Braydons.”
“Then her son and grandson died and you came, simply Braydon and without a drop of Godyson blood. But once we’re married, she has to see the battle’s lost.”
“We can hope so, but I expect further sorties, and you’ll be in the front line. Old women can be tougher and more vicious than many think, yet can’t be opposed by men with brute force. I’ve seen men battered bloodyby old harridans without feeling able to raise a hand. Are you deterred?”
“Not at all. I might relish a brisk encounter or two. I’m not suited to idleness.”
“As husband, I approve.”
“That might depend on where I direct my actions.” Kitty hadn’t intended a challenge, but she heard how it sounded. She let it lie.
A brow twitched, but he didn’t make an issue of it. “The settlements were well thought of. I’ve increased the jointure and left the document with Whitehall. He’ll bring it here tomorrow for us to sign and have witnessed before the ceremony. Is there anything else we should discuss?”
“I can’t think of anything. Except what to call you. Dauntry is too daunting, and ‘my lord’ too formal for everyday moments.”
“Why not Braydon? It’s what I’ve been used to all my life, and how I still think of myself.”
“Braydon. Perhaps if your surname had been Godyson, you’d never have been a beau at all.”
“Beau Brummell is alliterative, yes, but there was Beau Nash. You don’t think dandyism inborn?”
“I don’t think of you as a dandy.”
“Why not?”
“What a question to pose so late in the day! I suppose I think of a dandy as a man obsessed by clothes and appearance to the exclusion of all else. Perhaps Beau Brummell was such a man, but are you?”
