“That Iwhat?”
She waved an impatient hand, wishing she knew how to say what she needed to. “I know we can’t pretend that this was a long-standing understanding…”
He scowled again. “A little hard to do, considering how many witnesses enjoyed that little drama.”
“Could you at least pretend that this marriage is not the very last thing you’d wish inflicted on you?”
That seemed to stun him to complete silence. Before Pip could at least urge him to consider the idea, the carriage reached the circle driveway and pulled up before the front steps where the staff waited, smiling. Pip felt as if she were smothering. She smiled anyway.
And then one of the grooms was holding the coach door open and holding out a hand to help her out. Pip drew a deep breath and did her best to appear delighted for the staff.
“Billings,” she greeted them. “Mrs. Webb. Did you perform a miracle for us?”
Mrs. Webb dipped a curtsy. Billings, too young yet to appear formidable, bowed, grinning. Pip imagined she would grin too if she had been given the opportunity to practice her butling skills in such a safe place.
“Were the duchess’s idea,” Mrs. Webb said, plump hands tucked under her flour-dusted apron. “‘I want a comfortable little hideaway for our Pip,’ says she and sends Billings and me straight off. She even gave us leave to make your favorite dishes. Hope you like it, my lady.” Abruptly, she chuckled and shook her head. “Imagine that. Calling our little imp my lady.”
Imagine that indeed,Pip thought, her stomach clenching. She’d been addressed as such at the breakfast, of course. But somehow it seemed real for the first time on the lips of the delighted Mrs. Webb. She wished it tasted so good on hers.
“Welcome, my lord,” Billings said with a precise bow as Beau stepped out onto the raked shell drive. “I hope you’ll find your stay all that is pleasant.”
“I’m sure we will, uh…”
“Billings,” Pip offered. “And this is Mrs. Webb, and Mary and Patsy, Mike and Cam from the big house, and Hawkins from the stables.” Suddenly, she was the one to giggle. “Rather reversed, isn’t it? Usually, it is the lady who receives the introductions.”
“A pleasure to meet you all,” Beau said without noticeable reaction. “If you could show us to our rooms in a few moments. But first, I need to speak to Lady Drummond in the parlor. And I expect Lord Drake to stop by. If you could provide refreshments until I can attend him.”
“Tea for you and Lady Drummond?” Mrs. Web asked.
Beau looked about as if expecting it to show up. “In our suite when Lady Drummond goes up, I’m sure.”
A bit of the light went out of the servants’ eyes, but they moved as if choreographed to see to Beau’s requests. For Pip’s part, she had not thought her stomach could get tighter. But the signs were not good for her escaping humiliation before her friends from the big house. Especially when Beau made it up two steps before remembering to turn and take her arm.
All she could do when she made it into the house was remove her bonnet and pelisse and hand them off to Billings, smooth down her skirts, and lead the way into the South Parlor.
Mrs. Webb and the girls had done a good job cleaning up an unused space, but the salon was still decorated for a quirky septuagenarian. Pip had never needed to notice it before. It just was. But now she saw the faded gold chairs and lumpy mud brown settee. She saw the ornate little French desk in the corner that had once been buried in manuscript pages and the empty parrot cage by the window that had been occupied by a bright-feathered denizen with a breathtaking store of sea curses. A fire flickered in the uninspired fireplace, and the air was redolent with the scents of lavender, beeswax and burning wood. It should have felt homey. It felt like a punishment.
“Not even tea, then?” she asked as he shut the door behind them. “What have I done this time?”
Beau turned on her. “Please be seated, Pip.”
She noted that he didn’t move in a way to indicate he would follow her lead. “I don’t think so,” she said, stiffening her spine. “I have far enough to look up to you as it is. What is it you have to say before we could even reach the privacy of our rooms, where it might not look so particular?”
He looked around, frowning. “Particular? I don’t understand.”
She rubbed at the fresh headache that had just bloomed behind her eyes. “We might speak of anything in our rooms, Beau. Plans, schedules, a discussion of the people we visited with at the wedding breakfast. No one would have thought to comment. But this smacks of a punishment that should not be witnessed.”
“Don’t be…” He looked around again. “I just didn’t want people around.”
“Then you wait until our unpacking is done and suggest Joyful and your valet take some early dinner. You do sensitive work for the government, Beau. You should be familiar with the niceties of appearance. Newly married people don’t march into a parlor like an executioner on the way to the scaffold. They smile and hold hands until they are alone.Thenthey can scowl at each other to their heart’s content.”
Now he was pacing. “This isn’t the Paris Peace Talks, for heaven’s sake.”
No. It wasn’t. It was the foot upon which her marriage would take its first step. At least the public side of her marriage.
She ended up sitting down after all. She simply didn’t know what else to do. “What is it you wanted to tell me, Beau?”
How could you feel defeated before you’d even spent a day with your new spouse? Especially after so briefly feeling things were improving.
