Indeed, her lethargy was concerning and nothing like her usual behavior.
True, they had only been married a week, so how was he to know what was usual and what was not?
But every morning since their wedding day, she had bounded out of bed all smiles and chatty, and eager to kiss him.
No, this was not his Tulip at all.
“Love, come on,” he insisted, drawing the covers off her.
She groaned and tried to tug them back over her head.“Why?”
“I’ll tell you as we ride to the farms.”
“All right.”She finally sat up with a gaping yawn.“Give me a minute and I’ll ring for Mrs.Granger.”
“No, let me help you dress.”
“And style my hair?”
“Yes.”He gestured airily with his hands.“I’ll help you pin it up in a simple…I don’t know, thatthingladies do with their hair.”
She rose and shuffled into the duchess quarters.
Alex was already washed and dressed, so he followed her in and went straight to her wardrobe.“Here, this looks like a sturdy gown.”
It was a bluish-gray muslin that would suit her to perfection.
“Not that one, Alex.It will show all the mud stains.”
He hadn’t thought of that.“Or better, this one then.”
He drew out a dark brown muslin for her.
He must have looked perplexed, for Tulip was grinning at him.“Yes, that one’s a much better choice.Give me a moment and I’ll get myself ready.I’ll call you in when I need help with the laces.”
“All right.”Since she was obviously asking for privacy, he retreated to his own bedchamber but kept the door slightly ajar between them because he could not bear to actually shut that door.
It was stupid and nonsensical to want no barrier between them even for something so innocent as getting dressed.
He supposed it was foolish to equate a shut door between them as being shut out of her heart.
“Idiot,” he muttered, and went to the pot of cocoa that sat atop one of the small tables in his bedchamber.
Was it possible Tulip had been drugged?
He lifted the pot’s lid and inhaled, but his nose did not pick up the scent of anything other than cocoa.
He next gave Tulip’s cup a sniff and found nothing odd there, either.
Not ready to give up yet, he poured a little of the cocoa remaining in the pot into Tulip’s cup and took a careful sip.
The cocoa tasted fine, just cold.
What in blazes?
Why was she so lethargic this morning then?
And why had that exhaustion come on so rapidly last night?
