Chapter Twelve
The bride andgroom had planned to honeymoon for a week before returning to Munro. But, after his third night at the inn, even with Jilly’s presence to distract him, Lewis was finding he missed the comforts of home. The bed here was small and lumpy. His clothing was not laid out for him in the morning. He missed the smooth shave his valet gave from years of knowing the contours of his master’s face.
The inn’s meals, though filling, were rough fare. And time spent with the Kinseys, while pleasant, was limited, for they had chores to do. Jillian fitted right in, helping her mother in the kitchen. But Lewis was hardly able to assist her father. Other than the few hours he had spent with Simon Boyd to learn more about the sound management of an estate, and the nights he enjoyed with his wife, Lewis was growing bored.
And then there was Penelope to consider. She was possibly having the most fun of them all. She craved time in the meadow, especially since she had no horse to ride. But she also wanted to walk up and down the main road and look into all the charming little shops where the owners knew everyone by name. For the first time in years, she was enjoying the company of others, laughing, talking freely. Pen had no need to avoid her parents or servants or society at large where they frowned upon her choice not to marry. She was, it would seem, growing more like Jillian each day: not only free in thought, but in action as well.No longer confined to the estate like a bird in a gilded cage, Penelope bloomed.
But she was a lady. She needed a chaperone. And the newly-wed couple did not want to accompany her in her endless explorations. As her new brother, Timmy would have gladly volunteered, but he was too little to understand it was a role he could not play. Besides, as far as Lewis could tell, if rules were going to be broken, his sister would prefer to do so on the arm of Mr. Boyd.
In the end, it was this observation that persuaded Lewis it was time to return to Munro. He had nothing against the honest fellow, but if Penelope came home engaged to a land steward, his parents might very well disown them both.
Fortunately, Jillian, ever the enthusiast, was keen to see their new home by the lake at Oakwoods and did not mind returning to the city. Perhaps she hoped, now that they were officially and irrevocably married, his parents would make peace with it all. If not, the summer cottage was isolated enough from the main house to keep any simmering animosity from their doorstep.
And so, their bags were packed, goodbyes were said, and the temporary footman paid for his brief service. Penelope, dressed more according to her station, took her place inside the carriage rather than on the perch she had occupied on their journey from Munro.
Glad as he had been of Pen’s presence at the wedding, Lewis now rather resented her company on the half-day journey in the coach. He and his bride were to have no privacy and all the sensual scenes he had imagined on his journey to Ermenbrough were never to occur. He had a good mind to sulk all the way home.
The ladies, oblivious of his lost hopes, did not share his disappointment, but chattered away cheerfully. It was only whenPenelope snuck in a question about Simon Boyd that Lewis rapidly changed the subject to one of his own choosing.
Despite his inner grumbling, Lewis had to admit time passed pleasantly enough, and the new sisters bonded well and truly, which made his heart glad. Meanwhile, the surroundings grew steadily more familiar as they neared Munro. Lewis, who had been staring out the window, instantly recognized the lane that led past their estate.
As they turned into the drive to Oakwoods, he rapped on the roof of the carriage and called, “To the cottage, if you please.” The driver obeyed and steered the horses along the secondary drive that led to the home of the bride and groom.
“Are you not coming with me to greet our parents?” Penelope asked.
“Sorry, Pen,” said Lewis, “but you’re on your own with this one. We are still officially on our honeymoon. You will have to brave the consequences of your escapades alone. I have no desire to see our parents until they have expended the worst of their energies on you.”
“I suppose that is fair,” Pen answered grimly. “I shall have to remind myself how much I enjoyed the wedding, and Ermenbrough as a whole, while they have their say. Let us hope Mother wears herself out quickly.” She lifted her chin at a happier thought. “You will at least come for dinner on Sunday, won’t you?”
Lewis nodded. “With any luck, it will be a civilized meal. Afterward, you can show Jilly your rose garden while Father and I talk about matters of business.” He looked warmly upon Jillian. “Until then, we plan to keep to ourselves.”
By now, the cottage footman had, with the usual stiff formality, readied the steps so that the new master and mistress could descend.
The housekeeper was far less composed. Lewis would not be surprised if she had instantly sprung a few new gray hairs, for she patted her head as if to acknowledge them.
“Mr. Bradford!” she exclaimed as they entered the foyer. “We weren’t expecting you for some days yet! We have nothing ready for you—no linen, no meals…”
Lewis lifted a hand in appeasement. “That’s all right, Mrs. Johnson, you are not at fault. We changed our plans rather suddenly. If you would be so kind as to arrange hot water for a bath and prepare our room with fresh bedding and a fire, that is all we need for now. Later, we may call for some sandwiches and tea. Meanwhile, we will take a walk about the grounds so that Mrs. Bradford may admire her new home from all angles.”
“Oh, yes!” cried Jillian. “I would love that! And a chance to move about a little after being seated for such a long time.”
Mrs. Johnson nodded and rushed off to tend to her duties. Lewis took Jillian’s arm and led her outside once more.
“I will only give you a short tour today. I would not want to tire you out. Not yet…”
Jillian leaned her head against his shoulder. Whether it was as a show of agreement or an attempt to seek connection, Lewis could not say. He only knew that the touch made him feel strangely safe. As if nothing bad in the world could touch him. Perhaps that did not sound very manly to his own mind. He only knew it to be true. With Jillian, he felt a security he had not known before. A real sense of belonging.
“Show me the lake,” said his wife.
“Are you hoping it will be a reminder of the river that runs adjacent to Trenton Grange?”
She hugged his arm. “You understand me so well.”
“It will not have the lively motion of a river, but we can row on it if you like, come summer.”
“And fish?”
“You want to go fishing?”
