Stephen shook his head, “I am sorry, Your Grace, but I had not received that message.”
Turning to Draven, he asked, “You did send that message off, did you not?”
“I did,” the steward said. “I have the postage record if you need to see it. The only explanation is that it was lost in transit.”
As the two spoke, Stephen’s eyes flickered between them, apprehensively; the lad beside him did the same.
“Nevertheless,” Cedric said, “You may eat whatever you brought, but you will have the luncheon in the assembly room.” He called a footman to his side and sent him off to the town’s assembly room to have them prepare meals for the thirty children and their headmaster.
Something flickered over Draven’s face, but Ariadne could not place it.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Stephen bowed before he pawned the boy of the young lad, “Please, excuse us.”
As the man went off, Draven said, “I understand your generosity, Your Grace, but the cost?—”
“Fifteen pounds will not create a crater in my pocket,” Cedric waved his steward off. “Now, I need to speak with Stromwell, and my wife and I will be heading home.”
Ariadne gave Draven a small smile before turning and striding away with Cedric to find Silas. The hairs on the back of her head lifted high with a strange feeling. It was not quite apprehension, nor was it fear. She did not know what to make of it, so Ariadne shelved it in the back of her mind to analyze later.
They found Silas in the stable, undressing Eliza and brushing her down. Shocked that he was doing the manual work himself, when she was sure he had a legion of grooms at his beck and call.
He looked up at them and shook his head. Before Cedric could open his mouth, he said, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“We are,” Cedric said. “Do you have everything under control here?”
“Absolutely,” Silas rested a blanket on the horse’s back and gave them a small smile. “As I offered before, Your Grace, if you need riding lessons, my men are available.”
“Thank you,” Ariadne replied. “But Cedric is going to find me a private tutor.”
He inclined his head. “All the best to you.”
After shaking hands with him, Cedric dropped a hand to the small of her back and ushered her out of the stables and to their carriage.
“Home,” he told the driver before closing the door.
Instantly, he leaned forward and removed his jacket before he stuck a finger into the knot of the cravat and tugged it loose, “Sometimes, I feel like these things are decapitating me.”
She snorted, “Try putting on a corset.”
He rolled his eyes, “Did you enjoy today?”
“I did,” Ariadne replied. “But I don’t understand you.”
“What do you mean?” he pressed.
“Days ago, you said I should stick to the schedule, and now you offer me my own garden. Then, I felt as if you were going to stick to your vow to have this marriage in name only, and then you kiss me. That was my first kiss and I?—”
“You came to me to consummate the marriage,” he said, “I thought it was a simple compromise.”
She pressed her lips tight, “I enjoy games, my lord,” she said.
“Whatgames?”
“The mixed messages, the uncertainty with you.” Her voice trembled. “How you flash hot and cold, it leaves me lukewarm, like earlier today when we were on the paddock. It looked like you were about to kiss me again.”
“Do you want me to kiss you again?” he asked.
Ariadne felt backed into a corner by her own words.
