“If you don’t come on your own volition, I will drag you out.” He laughed as the end of the letter. “You’ve made that threat for years, but I have yet to see you do it.” The last line of the note sobered him. “And take your new wife.”
It did feel smart to make an organic integration of the young boys and girls with the lady who would manage them, but he was not sure if this was the proper place to do it.
Does she know how to ride a horse?
He reached for his coffee and, after taking a long drink, summoned a maid. “Please notify my wife that our presence is required at the Humbolt Stables and to make sure she dresses appropriately. Thank you.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the maid curtsied.
He was made to focus his attention on his work when the doors pushed open again. “Not this time, Hunt, I?—”
“Don’t be angry at her, Papa,” Emily said.
“Emily!” He shifted in his chair to see the little girl, already clad in her frilly nightgown and her hair done up in rags and tied off, standing at his doorway, holding fast to her cloth doll. Standing, he crossed the room to scoop her up and over to a chair near a window.
Seating her on his lap, he asked, “What are you doing up out of bed?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Emily said quietly. “Are you still angry at Lady Aria for taking me to see Amelia? I asked her to because she likes cats.”
Cedric didn’t know how to explain the panic he’d felt when he’d arrived home to find her gone, only then to know that she had gone with Ariadne before he had truly vetted her. Logically, he knew Ariadne would not harm a hair on Emily’s head, but he was so protective of his daughter that logic did not pierce emotion.
“I’m not angry, pumpkin,” he said. “Well, not anymore. When I came home and saw you were gone, it did make me worry, but I am not angry anymore.”
“Don’t you like her?” Emily asked, while gazing up at him co innocently.
It’s not a question of liking her; it’s a question of how I am going to go through this marriage.
He rubbed her back, “I think she is just fine, but I do not know her as much as I should.”
Emily rested her head on his chest, “I know cats like her, and that is fine with me. Maybe you should get to know what she likes, too.”
Devil and damn. Out of the mouth of babes.
She noted the taut ridges of muscle straining against his tailored waistcoat and trousers. The morning light cast an inky sheen over his hair and illuminated the sculpted angles on the unmarred side of his face.
“May I ask a question?” Ariadne looked at him as the carriage rode off from the main house. At his curt nod, she said, “I was told you visit the stables on Tuesdays. Since this is a Friday, it this a bit… disturbing?”
His eyes narrowed, but his tone was light, “I can adjust when needs be.”
“Can you?” She asked. “Breaking from your routine must feel like rolling in pampas grass.”
“Stop needling me, Ariadne.” His tone dropped to a growl.
“How had your last few days been?”
She fingered the plain reticule on her lap. “I—I had to adjust quickly. Yesterday, I made the mistake of trying to pitch in with the household tasks because I am used to doing so at home with my sisters.
She sighed, “It’s going to take a while to get out of those habits.”
For a moment, she thought she was only talking to herself, but then he spoke, “Speak to Anderson.”
Her head snapped to him. “What?”
“Anderson Tully, my head groundman,” he said. “He can set you up with a plot if you want to garden.”
She blinked and blinked again. “…Oh. I— Thank you.”
What— what just happened? Is this…is this some measure of progress with him?
