“And I think you are well aware I haven’t any affairs.”
“Even I find that hard to believe.”
Edward threw his hands up, pacing around his desk to the window. Lady Cromwell never minced words, but this was doing things a bit strong. She may have been close with his mother, but he wasn’t certain when his relationship with her had grown so familiar. At this moment, he did not like it. “To answer your question,” he said only when he was no longer facing the woman who knew him as well as a mother might know her own son, “my wife is in her rooms.”
Silence.
Edward shifted, still looking out the window into the garden.
The only thing more intimidating than a glare from Lady Cromwell was when she said nothing at all. It meant that far too many notions were settling themselves in her perceptive mind.
“You’ve bungled things that badly, have you? It is midday, and she is avoiding you?”
Edward sighed. “No.” A lie. He had certainly bungled a lot. Like Amelia’s hair.
Silence yet again.
Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer, and he spun back to face the room. “I have a plan if you must know; it is simply not going as smoothly as I had anticipated. It cannot be entirely my fault that I managed to marry the one woman in all of London who would not choose to throw herself at me!”
“I am certain there is more than one, Edward.”
“Kick a man when he’s down, why don’t you,” he muttered, losing patience.
Her eyes grew more discerning.
Blast. What had he said? What words did he need to retract to wipe that perceptive look from her face?
“Tell me your plan.”
Edward drew in a deep breath. For some reason, admitting to his intention to woo his wife felt like laying his pride out on his desk for all to see.
She must have taken his silence as a sort of refusal, because Lady Cromwell banged her cane upon the floor, garnering his full attention. “Well, if you were to ask me—which you ought to, as I have a great deal of life experience—you should start by discovering just who this woman you married is. You needn’t be afraid of your wife, Edward. Perhaps you ought to drop the facade for once, and show the girl you are not quite as abhorrent as you appear.”
“I am not abhorrent.”
She sighed. “Thatwouldbe the one thing you focus on. Come now, Edward. Your mother would wish you to have a happy marriage. So, tell me this plan.”
Edward deflated somewhat. “I am wooing her,” he muttered.
“Sorry?” Lady Cromwell leaned forward. “Speak up, boy.”
He closed his eyes with a sigh. “I am wooing my wife.”
The words rang out into the silence, and when Edward opened his eyes, it was to see Lady Cromwell staring flatly at him. She cleared her throat and sat up even straighter. “I see. Well... that is very good.”
Defiance kicked in. “Indeed, it is.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. Indeed. And how exactly are you doing that?”
“Flowers. Compliments. Walks in the garden. All the things women like.”
“And Lady Norwich likes these things?”
“As I said, all women like these things.”
“As representation of the fairer sex, I can confidently say that I have never found a group of women who all agree on the same things.”
Edward widened his stance. “Well, this is a matter of romance. I should think I know a thing or two about it.”
