“Are you in the habit of some after dinner activity?” Katherine asked, abandoning fraught topics.
“Nothing particularly noteworthy.”
“I see,” she said, her expression crestfallen once more. What had I done this time? I do not think I would be well suited to such a melancholy wife. I had not thought to expect that out of her. What was I supposed to do with her tonight?
Fourteen
GRAYSON HOUSE, LONDON — NOVEMBER 25, 1813
KATE
Dinner was a long,drawn-out affair with none of the gay chatter and easy teasing of home. Even when I dined with Aunt Prudence there was discourse.
But this silence interspersed with pointed comments from my mother-in-law and irritated sighs from my husband—Hugh. I was determined to refer to him by his name, in my own mind at least. And he had asked to call me by my Christian name, so surely, I could do the same.
I had never met anyone as skilled at shuttering a conversation as Hugh. We were in this marriage, for better or worse. He could at least attempt to converse like a civilized being.
As painful as the meal was, I hoped it would never end. Because what came after… Well, Aunt Prudence madethatsound unpleasant at best.
In spite of my prayers to the contrary, eventually we ran out of courses. There was little point in separating the sexes given our number, so we all retired to the drawing room as one.
My fingers itched for piano keys, something to cut the tension and distract myself from events soon to transpire. The unease was palpable. Every person in this room, every person in the house really, knew precisely what was to happen in a few short hours and we were all carefully avoiding the subject.
Helpfully, Hugh poured me a glass of sherry when he fetched his own drink. I should learn his preferences, which would be appropriate for a wife.
I took a healthy sip and liquid fire dragged down my throat. It was a soothing burn, distracting from the edginess that was overcoming me. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but a clock rested above the mantel, and it felt like an eternity between each tick.
At last, I could take the silence no longer. “I understand the plan is to travel to Kent after the New Year?”
“Yes,” Hugh answered, offering me nothing else.
I tried again. “It’s nice that the distance allows for travel in winter. Lincolnshire is much too far, the journey can turn treacherous.”
“That explains why your farmer did not attend the wedding,” Lady Grayson added.
I chose to ignore the implicit slight, continuing, “that and travel is difficult with four little ones. My sister also suspects she has another on the way, but it is too soon to be certain.”
“Four children? How long has your sister been wed?”
“Just five years, but she has always wished for a large family. We are all quite pleased for her. The children are just precious as well.”
The dowager straightened at that news. Perhaps potential grandchildren were the key to her approval. Hugh said nothing, pouring himself a second drink. It wasn’t until he pulled the glass from my hand that I noticed I had emptied my own as well. He handed me a refill without comment, returning to his perch near the drinks.
“Healthy?” Lady Grayson questioned.
“Oh yes, and smart as well. The eldest idolizes my brother, and he is determined to follow him into the law.”
That earned me ahmphand no further questioning.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the ticking of the clock. Finally, after the 2,764thtick, I could stand it no longer.
I rose, startling the others. “I think, perhaps, I will retire for the evening.”
Hugh’s jaw clenched, and he swallowed hard. His mother’s lips pursed in that, now familiar, sucked-a-lemon way that she had. My husband stood, presumably to escort me.
“I can manage the way, thank you.”
He nodded at my side, throat bobbing once again. His hand found my shoulder. He started, pausing for a moment before continuing softly, words meant for only the two of us, “I shall see you later?” His voice was thick, harsh.
