She frowned. Did the Grange even have a home farm? With a name like the Grange, she’d always assumed the manor had once served Bromton Castle in that capacity. Surprising she knew so little.
Then again, maybe not.
For one, Clarissa had always been careful about the subject of her brother.
Since Clarissa knewsomethinghad passed between them—something that had made Rayne’s former friends glance uneasily in Julia’s direction whenever Rayne was mentioned—for her to issue an invitation to come to Rayne’s home would have been odd indeed.
What was more, Julia hadn’t dared believe her aspirations could actually come true—not after Rayne’s departure—so she’d never questioned Clarissa’s reluctance to spend time at the Grange.
Whenever Clarissa had visited, they all—Julia, Katherine, Bromton, Clarissa, Markham, and Farring—had stayed together at Bromton Castle. And Julia was happiest in an overflowing home…like the Duke of Shepthorpe’s London home.
Or Southford after Bromton had arrived.
Or Bromton Castle after Bromton and Katherine were wed.
Or even Periwinkle Gate.
Then again, all of those places were full of love—or at least they were now.
Just how forbidding did one’s childhood home have to be to stay with one’s former betrothed and his new wife? How forbidding was it that both Clarissa and Rayne left it completely abandoned?
What if—Julia set down her comb—the very prospect of returning to the Grange had something to do with Rayne’s oddly taciturn mood this morning?
Pensively, she began coiling her hair.
She’d always been impulsive, though marrying Rayne hadn’tfeltimpulsive.
Marrying Rayne had felt like the culmination of every wish. Not only did she have the man her heart had chosen—the man who, over the past few days, had cared for her in ways she hadn’t even hoped—she was about to take up residence not an hour’s walk from the eastern border of Bromton Castle, her sister’s home.
Then again, Rayne still hadn’t shown any warmth toward Bromton and had even refused Miss Watson’s wedding invitation. Would Rayne ever willingly visit Bromton Castle?
Would he welcome her family to the Grange?
She winced as a hairpin went awry.Dash it.She’d coiled her curls too tightly—not that she had any intention of going through the trouble again.
And wherewasRayne, anyway?
She pushed back her chair and then paced the length of the room. Their bags were packed, the sheets folded, leaving her nothing to do but wait.
Wait…and worry.
She lay back on the bare bed and counted the spidery cracks in the plaster ceiling, willing away the fear that everything was about to go terribly wrong. By noon, she was restless. By one, thoroughly vexed. As the clock chimed quarter past, she’d traded thoughts of her future home for visions of pirates and planks.
Then he opened the door.
Cold had rouged his angled cheeks. His eyes were glossy and bright, and his dark hair swept back beneath his hat. He filled the room and her heart all at once, and her fretting simply vanished.
Oh yes. So. Much. Trouble.
“Wherewereyou?” she demanded.
“I told you.” He blinked. “On an errand.”
“What kind of errand takes nearlyfour hours?”
He counted on his fingers. “Horses, for one. Food. Placing an advertisement for help. Acquiring a permanent coachman. Postponing my meeting with the land agent.”
Notcancelbutpostpone?
