He nodded, his throat tightening. “Very well. I—I had thought of waiting to visit you.”
“I see.” Miss Morgan did not move on, standing in his path to the table and freedom from this conversation. “So, we will keep things of that nature as a matter of business as well?”
Robert nodded. “That seems a good plan.” Though he supposed it wasn’t as simple as she was making it. It was not that he did not desire her in that way, but he wanted to know her better first. It was bad enough that he could hardly have a normal conversation with her, then to add to it the physical aspect . . .
“You are thinking,” Miss Morgan said, breaking him from his thoughts.
“Yes, I am.” He noticed his finger pattering away on his leg, and he stilled it. “I only want to feel more comfortable in our situation before we move in that direction. Do you have any objection to that?”
She smiled, raising her shoulders. “Not at all. I just wish to be clear of our expectations of each other.”
Robert could not get over how relaxed she seemed during the entirety of this conversation. If only he could somehow harness that ability for himself.
“Would you have ever brought this up? Or would you have left me waiting for years?” She placed a hand on her hip, grinning at him.
Goodness. Hopefully it would not be years.
“I am very sorry, Miss Mo—”
“Louisa,” she corrected.
He nodded. “Yes. I should have discussed this with you sooner, and I will be sure to let you know when things . . . change.”
She tucked her lips in, hiding her obvious smile. “You are rather adorable when you are nervous.”
Adorable? Not dashing? Handsome? Attractive? “Thank you,” he said, like the idiot he was. Perhaps one day he would be able to keep up with his wife, but today was not that day.
They walked in silence over to the table as his mother entered, joining them. “After breakfast, I thought we could go over some things,” she said, piercing Louisa with an expectant stare.
Louisa swallowed her first bite, giving his mother a nod. “Yes, of course. I look forward to it.”
His mother rang a bell and a servant immediately entered and poured her a cup of tea. She was nothing if not prompt, precise, and organized. She would have Louisa trained in the ways of being a duchess in record time. Robert wondered how much of that had to do with her precise nature, and how much had to do with her wishing to be done with the role herself.
“I do expect some visitors today,” Louisa continued.
Visitors already? “That sounds nice.” The lie slipped over Robert’s tongue with ease. Visitors were rarely something he looked forward to. But as long as they came to visit his wife and not him, then it was none of his concern.
“Yes, Henry and Violet plan to bring Prince over.”
“Prince?” Robert didn’t like the way she said those words. As if Prince was a living, breathing thing. “And who is this Prince?”
“My dog.” She looked up at him from across the table, her comfortable demeanor for the first time rubbing him the wrong way. Like she hadn’t suddenly dropped news that he would now be sharing his immaculate home with a furry creature that would follow him about, whining or barking or wanting to go for walks . . .
“A dog?” He gripped his fork a little tighter. “And what size is this dog?”
“Prince,” she corrected him, enunciating the name as if he had somehow forgotten it already.
He wasn’t a dunce. He was merely irritated.
She continued. “He is quite small, actually. I shall be surprised if you even notice him. This house is large enough for him to wander without being underfoot.”
“Quite.” Robert stopped any other words before he said something he might come to regret.
“A dog?” His mother looked utterly repulsed, her face crinkling. “In Stonemoore?”
Brooks came through the doorway, shifting his feet and not meeting Robert’s eyes. “Lord and Lady Wood are here. With a . . . guest.”
Robert slowly swiveled his head to Louisa before standing. “Yes, Brooks. Show them to the front morning room.”
