“Indeed, it is not.”
They continued eating in companionable silence, and Adelaide wondered just how long it would last. She wanted to believe that there would be no more difficulty and that the worst was over, but she could not quite shake the feeling that something more was coming, and that she had to be prepared for it.
Cassian, on the other hand, was more at ease than she had ever seen him. He wandered the house slowly rather than darting from one room to the next, and more than once that morning, she watched as he stopped to admire the paintings on the walls or to look at the fresh flowers in the vases.
At last, he was living in his home, rather than simply existing in it.
That afternoon, she went to his study after hearing a loud crash come from it. She opened the door gently to see that he was perfectly fine, simply moving everything around.
For once, his curtains were open, and sunlight was pouring in. His desk had been tucked against the window rather than far away from it, and he was pushing the heavy bookshelf along the wall so that he could stare up at the painting of a garden from his desk.
“You could have called for a footman to help you,” she pointed out.
“I considered that, but then I decided that if I did it myself, it would be precisely as I wanted it.”
“It certainly looks much better. For a start, I can actuallysee.”
“I know. My father kept it that way, and as a boy, I thought it was the pinnacle of maturity. But if I am to spend much of my time here, then I would rather it reflect my personality. I will have the walls repainted, eventually. A lighter green, perhaps.”
“That would be lovely. We can have it done now, if you wish.”
“No, it can wait until you decide to redecorate.”
Adelaide wondered if that was all it was. Her husband had made so many changes very suddenly, and she had to ask herself if a part of him was trying to cling to what was familiar. She did not blame him for that, but if it were the case, she wanted to know.
Just as she opened her mouth to ask, the butler appeared in the doorway. He seemed to be in shock, and at once, Adelaide wondered if something dreadful had happened. She had been waiting for it, for something to go terribly wrong just as they had started to heal.
“Your guests are here,” he announced. “They are waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Adelaide looked at Cassian, who seemed as confused as she was.
“We did send the correct dates, didn’t we?” he asked.
“I am certain of it. I wrote them down myself, and I checked them afterward. I do not know what has happened.”
“I see,” he uttered, offering his arm and leading her out. “Well, it has been a difficult week. Anything could have happened. I am sure they will understand.”
But Adelaide knew that she had not done anything wrong. She had read each invitation several times to make sure that she did not sound too desperate or too upset about her situation. She had wanted it to all be positive, and each time she read them, she made sure that the date was correct.
In any case, Cassian was right; her friends would understand if something had happened. They were not the sort to care if a household was not prepared to receive guests. Even so, she was slightly ashamed that she had not been able to fully prove herself.
Once she saw them, however, and all four of them embraced her tightly, the feeling went away. Her friends were here, and she would do her best to be an excellent host.
“It is so nice to see you all,” she greeted, nodding to their husbands and children. “My apologies, we were not… we were not expecting you today.”
“Oh?” Cecilia asked, an eyebrow raised. “But I thought—never mind. As long as you are willing to have us for a short while longer, there is no harm done, is there?”
“You are all most welcome,” Cassian said. “Now, shall we gentlemen go to the village and leave the ladies in peace?”
The men clearly liked the sound of that, and they were gone moments later.
Once they were alone, Cecilia fixed Adelaide with a triumphant look. “I knew that you did not send that letter.”
“What letter?” Adelaide asked.
“You see?” Cecilia said to their friends. “I know a forgery when I see one. It takes more than a letter to fool me.”
Before anyone else could say a word, she drew a piece of paper from her pelisse and handed it to her. Adelaide took it, not truly wanting to open it. She had had quite enough already, and she wanted nothing more than to have tea with her friends and forget about it all.
