All of Grace’s silly, naive dreams of happiness in marriage melted away. All she had in this world was herself. It was all she’d ever had, and from now on, she would trust in that and no one else. If she was to make the best of her new life, she had to ensure that Rawden could not cast her off as he had Romola and leave her to rot in this dank house, as unloved and dust-covered as the furniture. She had to ensure that her marriage stood fast.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rawden returned mid-afternoon to be told by Reeves that Grace was in her room and had remained there all day. ‘Seemed put out, she did, and would not eat a bite when I offered it,’ was all he would say before shuffling off, muttering, ‘changeable females’ and ‘be the death of me.’
‘We must both adapt now that I am a married man, you old grump,’ shouted Rawden after him.
‘Then get a cook, or she’ll fade away,’ replied the man.
Rawden’s heart sank. He had been in feverish anticipation all day at the thought of returning to Grace – a folly he had tried to banish but could not. So he took the stairs two at a time and rushed in. Grace was lying on the bed. She frowned at him and looked a little dazed as if she had been far away.
‘Are you well?’ he said. ‘Reeves said you have not left your room all day.’
‘I was tired. The events of yesterday….’ She trailed off with a forlorn little break in her voice.
‘Of course,’ said Rawden, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way. ‘It was a long night, and you have much to adapt to.’ He read her face for signs of distress or regret, for though he had tried to be gentle, how could he be sure she liked his attentions? There was nothing. Her face was as still as a pond, not a ripple of emotion upon it, just those searching, hazel eyes fixed on him.
He took a step forward. ‘I suppose Reeves’ appalling cuisine has not been too tempting.’
‘That man simply cannot cook,’ said Grace, getting to her feet and wrapping a shawl about her shoulders, a gesture which he interpreted as defensive. She kept her eyes on him as if she expected him to do her harm.
‘Yes, I am aware. I will see to it,’ he said. There was a distinct chill in the room, and it was emanating from his wife. ‘The fire has gone out,’ offered Rawden, into an awkward silence.
‘Indeed, it has,’ she said, lifting her chin, and he got the distinct impression that she was spoiling for a fight. The soft, yielding Grace, who had writhed in ecstasy under his hands and tongue last night, was gone, and a suspicious, hard-eyed stranger who was not at all welcoming stood in her place. Disappointment doused his eagerness, but he approached Grace and took her hand, reaching into his pocket with the other. ‘I got something for you,’ he said. ‘A wedding present.’
As she lifted the lid on the box, he felt a spurt of childish pride, which dissolved when her face showed no sign of pleasure.
‘A ring?’ she said flatly.
‘I felt the wedding band a little plain. Now that you are a Countess, you should adorn yourself accordingly. I hope it fits, for I had to guess the size of your finger.’
‘I am sure it will do very well,’ she said, staring at the fat emerald ring, sparkling on its cushion of scarlet. ‘Is it a reward?’
‘A reward?’ said Rawden.
‘For my obedience last night, for letting you do what you want with me. Will I get jewellery whenever I let you into my bed, Rawden?’
She was so cold, so matter of fact, that Rawden stepped back from her. ‘Obedience? I thought there was more than that between us?’
She frowned and bit her lip hard enough to leave a white crescent. It warmed slowly to pink again as the blood rushed back. ‘Forgive me. I chose my words unwisely, and the ring is beautiful. I am grateful for the present and for everything you have done for me, Rawden.’ She gave him a bright smile, but he saw through it.
‘Did I offend you somehow, Grace?’
‘No, I am just adjusting to married life. It is a big change for me.’
‘I hope it is not an altogether unpleasant one.’
She stared up at him, eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears. ‘I wish you had not left me alone, Rawden.’
She was angry at him, and rightly so. ‘Forgive me, but I had the idea of the ring, and so I was in great haste to fetch it,’ he said. ‘And you were sleeping so soundly and looked so at peace that I was loathe to wake you.’
That was a lie. The violent stir of tenderness that had overcome him on waking next to her made him leap out of bed and get away as fast as possible. Guilt had propelled him to the jewellers, and shame had urged him to spend a king’s ransom on a damned ring in order to banish it.
Rawden took the ring and slid it onto her long, elegant finger, and Grace stared down at it, swallowing hard. She refused to meet his eye.
‘I am sorry I was gone so long. You must have been bored.’
‘I thought of going to see Harriet, but I did not relish the idea of hailing a carriage.’
