“She is unhappy that I said tomorrow she and I would be the servants to the rest of you. She thinks you should join us because officially you are half owner of the manor.”
“She is correct in that. My father’s testament left it equally to us both. I should play the servant with you.”
“I have decided you will not. Not another word will be spoken on this matter.”
“My, youaredemanding. And commanding.” She nuzzled his neck.
Both when necessary. He wanted Amelia to serve Caroline, for once, even if it was in this mock fashion. Amelia did not comprehend how her sister had lived and worked while Amelia played the gentleman’s daughter. He doubted Amelia had noticed the toll it had taken on Caroline’s hands.
That thought had him feeling down beside the bed until his hand hit a bundle propped against the wall. He grasped it and pulled it up. “I have something for you.” He set the bundle on his chest right in front of her nose.
She sat up. “What is it?”
“Gifts. Small and hardly good enough for you. Useful at least, perhaps.” It had probably been a blessing to only have the village shops available. If in London he would have been tempted to spend hundreds for jewels and luxuries. Hundreds he did not have. For these small gifts he had enough, though. In time, with Caroline at his side and his one talent put to use with the horses, perhaps there would be more than enough.
She took the bundle and felt through the muslin wrap. She petted the red silk ribbon that bound it together. “This alone would be enough.”
It had been a day of laughter and joy and a night of unbearable pleasure and powerful emotions. A dark anger now threatened to ruin that, and he swallowed the reaction. He pictured his cousin and Margaret Millerson today, living as if the luxuries they enjoyed were their due.
Later, he thought. Not too much later, but not now.
Caroline pulled at the ribbon and unfolded the muslin. She lifted a fur muff. “Oh, my.” She rubbed the fur against her face. “It is beautiful and I will treasure it. Not very practical for riding a horse, of course, but—”
“It is to keep your hands warm when you ride in a carriage.”
She was good enough not to say she had no carriage.
“As for riding, keep looking,” he said.
She peeled back more muslin and squealed with delight. She lifted lambskin gloves and immediately pulled them on. “They fit perfectly. Like another skin.”
“You can pick up a farthing while wearing them.”
“I can also hold and shoot a gun.”
“That too.”
“There is something else—” More muslin and another squeal. “Good solid work gloves! You have given me a whole wardrobe for my hands.” She fell back into his arms and kissed him.
He held her against his body. “I never want to see you with red, raw hands again, Caroline.”
“I am surprised you found all of this in the village.”
“Most shopkeepers have a special drawer that rarely opens. Small luxuries await the right patron. I would have bought a wardrobe for your body as well, but that will have to wait for town.”
“I have nothing for you,” she whispered.
“You gave me yourself, Caroline. There is no gift more precious.”
She rose on her arm and looked down at him. “Perhaps I do have something else.” She caressed down until she reached his cock. “You may have to tell me how to wrap it, though.”
He told her just how to do it.
* * *
Two mornings later, Caroline slipped out of Adam’s bed while he slept. The announcement of their marriage had been met with shock, happiness, and good cheer, but that did not mean they could openly share a bed.
He had not been in his chamber when she arrived the night before. He still had duties as a servant down below. A day of that, with only Amelia to aid him, had left him working long into the night. Food from Christmas meant no one had to cook much, but the dishes still needed washing and the pots scrubbing.
