He wanted her to feel welcome, to acknowledge it as her home. Perhaps he would hire a designer to come later that week with various swatches of fabric for her to inspect. The entire estate could do with an update. He hesitated. What if her tastes veered toward the eclectic? He could do without a red and orange bedchamber. Maybe that was one he would suggest leaving as it was. And his study.
He tapped a finger on the side of his seat and considered that he would wait on the designer until they’d had a chance to talk things over first.
Yes, that definitely seemed like the better choice.
Cortland considered more similar prospects until the coach came to a halt.
With a yawn, Lady Genevieve covered her mouth with her gloved hand. “Have we arrived?”
He snapped out of his reverie and smiled. “Yes, we have. Shall I give you the full tour of your new home?”
She seemed apprehensive, all of a sudden, and he wondered if he’d been too hasty. But then, she pushed aside her hesitation and offered him a warm smile. “That would be lovely.”
The entire time her husband guided her through the massive estate, the only thing she could think of was those bodies in the parlor and how it might resemble her time with the duke that evening. Her blood rushed through her veins in anticipation. She had been quite fascinated with what she’d witnessed, so she hoped it was the on the agenda.
When they parted, he said he would come back to collect her at supper, but he would take his leave now to make sure she was settled comfortably. “If there is something you wish to change, we can discuss an altered color scheme.”
Genevieve looked around the powder blue and white room and knew she wouldn’t change a single thing about it. It was soothing to the eye. “It’s perfectly acceptable as it is, Your Grace.”
“Cortland,” he corrected. “Let’s leave the titles to formal events.”
She nodded. “Of course. Forgive the oversight. Old habits are difficult to break.”
When she said that, the strangest look crossed his face, but he recovered soon enough and left.
The first thing Genevieve did was try out the bed. She went over and plopped down on it with uninhibited joy. She had long dreamed about the duke’s kiss in the gardens and wished to duplicate it at the earliest possible opportunity. She had thought he might accost her in the carriage, but when that didn’t occur, she had pinned her hopes on when they’d arrived at the estate. Although he was amicable, he made no untoward advanced toward her. Even when she’d glanced at him hopefully as they strolled through the front parlor, he was careful not to meet her gaze.
If she didn’t know he was already enamored with her sexually, she might have wondered if his ardor had cooled. But it must be that he thought she felt awkward to be strolling these halls again under vastly different circumstances. She would have to set his mind at ease on that score as soon as possible.
However, when she thought about approaching the subject at dinner, she decided that perhaps it wasn’t the best time, because although they sat at the table alone, two footmen stood at the perimeter of the room, ready and waiting to offer a new glass of wine or anything else their master or new mistress might require.
When the meal came to a close, she started to say something to Cortland, but he wiped his mouth with his serviette and stood. “You will likely wish to prepare yourself. I shall see you later this evening.”
He was gone before Genevieve had the chance to speak a single word.
Frustration coursed through her, but after they made love, maybe then she would finally have the chance to talk to him as they had done before. She hated this sudden formality between them and missed the teasing banter. Surely a few vows wouldn’t change his entire behavior. She was determined to get to the bottom of his sudden reticence, but first she had her virginity to dispose of.
She headed for her chamber and allowed herself to be primped and primed for the duke’s visit that evening. Her personal maid ensured that she was bathed and perfumed and redressed in a white, cotton nightdress, to await the arrival of her husband.
Left alone, Genevieve set her hands on her hips and spied the lone candle by the bed. It gave off only a sliver of light in the darkness. She frowned. She would have rather had the lamp turned up in order to see the duke in all his masculine glory. But maybe her grandmother was right.
With a sigh, she went over and climbed beneath the coverlet and set her arms directly at her sides and waited to be defiled.
Thirty minutes passed. An hour. Two hours.
He still hadn’t appeared.
She exhaled heavily. “Where is he?” she muttered beneath her breath. She waited for fifteen more minutes and then she tossed the coverlet to the side. “This is ridiculous.”
She padded to the sitting room door that separated her room from his. The fact that society was determined to keep such an antiquated system of two bedrooms for one couple had never made sense to her. It seemed that it was a perfectly disastrous way to keep that constant divide between husband and wife.
Tonight, that gap would be pushed together. If he wanted to take his time coming to her, then she would just go to him.
She padded across the sitting room on bare feet and when she reached his chamber, she put an ear to the door to listen to any sounds of movement on the other side.
There was nothing.
Curious, she pushed the door open and found the duke sitting in a chair next to the fireplace. He was fast asleep.
