“Poor wife,” he murmured. “Subjected to such a dirty show.”
Since he radiated satisfaction, she didn’t think he was all that sorry. She wasn’t either. Call her depraved, but she liked their adventurous lovemaking. Liked how free she felt in his arms. Liked how they could make one another wild with desire.
“I enjoyed it,” she said shyly.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. Then he brushed his lips over her forehead.
“Let’s get you dressed,” he said.
He assisted her, his movements as efficient and methodical as Brigitte’s. His manner turned brooding. The energy in the room shifted, and Fi didn’t know what to make of it. Uncertainty crept over her.
Was I too wanton? Did I encourage him too much, participate too eagerly?
“Hawk?” she blurted.
“Yes, sweeting?” He was behind her, working on her corset laces.
She twisted around. “What are you, um, thinking?”
Lines deepened on his forehead, his silence ramping up her anxiety.
“I did not realize how good a marriage of convenience could be,” he said quietly. “That is what I was thinking.”
“Oh,” she breathed with giddy pleasure.
His lips twitched. Leaning forward, he kissed her softly on the mouth. “Now, curious minx, let us finish getting you dressed and up to bed.”
Sixteen
Aweek later, Fiona welcomed Mrs. Lawson into her newly refurbished sitting room.
“How bright and cheery everything looks,” the housekeeper exclaimed. “You’ve worked wonders in a short time, my lady.”
“I am rather fond of the changes,” Fi said, smiling.
Fi had switched the palette of her suite from pastel green to a vibrant shade of blue. For the accent colors, she had gone with ivory, buttercup-yellow, and gold. She had donated the old furnishings and replaced them with pieces fashioned from gleaming rosewood.
Settling at the table with Mrs. Lawson, Fi said, “Fill me in on everything.”
Fi liked the housekeeper, not only because the latter had thoughtfully brought a pot of tea and a plate of fresh biscuits. Mrs. Lawson had been an invaluable ally during Fi’s transition into her role as lady of the house. Together, they’d tackled everything from household accounts to the acquisition of new linens and staff uniforms. Mrs. Lawson was excellent at taking direction, and her capability freed up time for Fi to investigate.
At the same time, the housekeeper was humble and non-assuming. She performed her role seamlessly; the stitches of her competence were so neat that one could overlook them, even though they held the fabric of the household together. Her hair secured in a practical twist, the housekeeper now crossed another item off her list.
“Thank you for approving Mary’s leave, my lady,” she said. “She will appreciate the time off to attend her father’s funeral.”
“Of course.” Fiona sipped her tea. “Is there anything else we can do for her?”
Hesitating, Mrs. Lawson said, “Mary hasn’t been with us long, and I think her circumstances are rather, well, strained. The cost of the train fare to the funeral…”
“Cover whatever she needs. If she balks out of pride, tell her it is a customary practice in this household. Which, if it was not the practice before,” Fi added, “it is now.”
“That is most generous, my lady,” Mrs. Lawson murmured. “I also wanted to convey the staff’s compliments for their new uniforms. Everyone below stairs is walking a bit taller these days.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Fi said.
Mama’s philosophy was that happy servants made for a happy household, a fact borne out by the longevity of the Garrity staff. Fiona wanted to foster the same loyal, thriving relationships in her new home. She had her work cut out for her, however. According to Mrs. Lawson, the retention of staff had been a long-standing problem.
Though the housekeeper’s professionalism prevented her from gossiping, Fi had the sense that her predecessor hadn’t taken much interest in domestic matters. The dilapidated state of the house, which clearly predated the countess’s death, as well as the servants’ tattered livery and discontent, spoke volumes. Perhaps Caroline Morgan had neglected the town house because she spent most of her time in the country. Fi couldn’t help but wonder about Hawk’s previous wife and marriage.
