It seemed to her, as she thought back on the rooms she had already been shown, that she had sought to create the perfect manor, the sort of house she had always dreamed of. A place where she could be comfortable and free, making bold changes not just for her benefit, but for those around her. The direct opposite of Farhampton.
“And the dukeletme do this?” she had to ask, for it seemed impossible.
Mrs. Fisher nodded. “Oh yes. When you returned from your wedding, he informed you that you could do whatever you pleased with the manor. You didn’t believe him at first, but, eventually, you realized he meant it, and you’ve made this house so lovely. It was a… grim sort of place before then.”
“I have not yet seen his chambers or his study,” Thalia said suddenly. “Did I decoratethemtoo?”
The housekeeper frowned as if she did not understand the question. “He does not reside here, Your Grace. When heishere, he only occupies the North tower, and you have not touched that. It was part of your agreement.”
A chill ran through Thalia’s veins, her throat constricting as she croaked, “He resides in the North tower?”
“Yes, Your Grace, though rarely,” the housekeeper replied.
“Was he… in residence when I fell down the stairs?” Thalia managed to rasp.
Mrs. Fisher’s frown deepened. “Your Grace, it was the duke who found you.”
CHAPTER 6
“Should you not be with her?” Owen Hunt, the Duke of Shawton, asked gruffly, a deep frown competing with the scars upon his brow. “You did not need to keep this appointment if your wife is in such a condition. Go on, away with you.”
The sentiment surprised Henry, for Owen was not someone who showed concern too often. In all the years that they had known one another, Henry could count on one hand the amount of times that his oldest friend had offered empathy. That was not to say that he was an unfeeling sort of fellow; he just did not wear any emotions upon his sleeve, showing care in action rather than words or sentimentality.
“Clearly, he needs a moment away from her, to be among those whodorecognize him,” Luke Jennings, the Duke of Foxhill, and Henry’s only other friend, chimed in with a grin.
Henry was grateful that both of his friends were in attendance at Rowley’s Gentlemen’s Club: a secret, out of the way sort of place, on the outskirts of London, where frank discussions could be held and not a word would leave those walls. Indeed, the two of them, Owen and Luke, had a natural way of balancing each other out and, right now, Henry needed the cheerier perspective as well as the gloomier.
“Your situation is a disaster,” Owen said, as he summoned the waiter for more brandy. “There is no kindly way to say it.”
Luke put up a disagreeing finger. “Orit is a rare opportunity.”
“What do you mean?” Henry asked, intrigued.
“Well,” Luke replied with a shrug, “how many of us have often wished that we could do something all over again, and do it better this time? You can reintroduce yourself to your own wife! There are countless men in England who would give their pistol arm for such a blessing!”
Owen gave a snort of disapproval. “Until she remembers everything.”
“The physician said she might not,” Luke pointed out. “Now, I am not saying that anyone should be wishing that her memories remain lost, but I still think it is a golden opportunity. You can woo her, Henry. Have the courtship you never had before. Be whatever sort of husband you might like to be.”
Henry almost choked on his own mouthful of brandy, as he stared wide-eyed at his friend. “Why would I do that? We are already married. An agreeable union.”
“Agreeable?” Luke arched an eyebrow. “Come now, it is only agreeable because the two of you do not see one another. You live in the hunting lodge when you are at home and spend the majority of your time in London.Of course, your marriage is ‘agreeable.’”
“Seems ideal to me,” Owen muttered, as the waiter brought over a new bottle and left it in the center of the table.
Rolling his eyes, Luke pointed an accusatory finger at Henry. “Butyou, Henry, have always liked her. That is the difference. This ‘leading separate lives’ business was part of the arrangement, so you have kept to it out of duty and diligence, but do not think I did not see the way you looked at her on your wedding day. Unlike your wife, I remember it keenly.”
Managing to swallow his drink, Henry refused to look his livelier friend in the eye. He had not thought anyone had noticed the way he had stared at Thalia on their wedding day, and Luke certainly had not brought it up in conversation before.
Was I so obvious?Henry could still picture the moment she had set foot in the church on that day. She had looked… perfect. Indeed, he had not lied to Thalia when she had asked if there had been something amiss on their wedding day. To him, she had looked entirely flawless, veiled and beautiful.
“Why, you are almost blushing,” Luke teased, sitting back in his chair with a rather smug expression upon his face.
“I have no notion of what you are talking about,” Henry retorted with a bite in his voice. “Was I not supposed to at least see what my bride looked like on our wedding day? That is all it was.”
Luke sighed and pretended to flutter his eyelashes, his hand clasped to his chest. “Ah, my good man, but it was themannerin which you gazed at her, as if you could not bear to look away. And who would, married to such a woman? She is as fine a lady as any I can think of.”
“You should remind her of that,” Owen said in grumbling agreement. “It is your duty, now, to remind her of her life before this accident.”
