Page 34 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

Back to Mother again. ‘No. I did, when I purchased the house earlier this year. My mother has never set foot in the place.’

‘Oh, I see.’

He was a little disappointed with her reaction. ‘You can change it, if you do not like it.’

‘Oh, no. I like it very well. I was just wondering, that was all.’

Was she just being kind? ‘I mean it. Change whatever you want. I have no attachment to any of it, apart from my study.’

‘That sounds terribly wasteful, if the house was only recently refurbished. There is also Blackdown Hall to consider. That must be costing a fortune.’

He shrugged. ‘I can afford it.’

She looked doubtful, as if she suspected him of bragging, ‘I see no reason to change anything.’

He finished his tea and rose. The awkwardness between them felt oppressive. He had been right the first time. He should have let her rest tonight. ‘Thank you for the tea. Shall I see you tomorrow at breakfast?’

Her expression stiffened. ‘Oh, I… What time is breakfast?’

‘I usually eat at eight.’

She winced. ‘I told Tilly I would take a tray in my room.’

Why was he surprised, or disappointed? Ladies of her station did not rise early. There was nothing for them to do in the morning. He was certainly in no rush to see her, and had no intention of entertaining her during the day. He had business matters awaiting his attention. ‘Very well. I will no doubt see you at dinner.’ He took her hand and pressed it to her lips. ‘Until tomorrow.’

He strode out before he did something foolish such as taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly. It would not do to show that sort of passion. He was not going to make the same sort of mistakes he had made with Eloise and show weakness. It was too easy for a woman to think she could manipulate a man through his desires.

That was a lesson he hadn’t needed Uncle Robert to teach him.

Chapter Seven

Florence still could not quite believe her changed circumstances. Unlike the sitting room at home, the panelled walls darkened by centuries of smoke, this drawing room was beautifully appointed with pale-cream walls, elegant friezes and light furniture upholstered in Wedgwood blue and gold. The damask curtains, striped in the same blue and gold, framed windows that looked out over Portman Square one floor below.

The two weeks since she had arrived in London had passed very quickly. First, she had been introduced to the staff by Powell and Mrs Spragg and had begun looking for a lady’s maids. She must have seen ten women already and none of them had appealed. Some were too high and mighty and one of them had seemed rather shifty. She sighed. She had at least ten more applicants waiting to be seen.

At the end of the first week, Graydon’s mother had moved into a house on Upper Berkley Street and together they had begun the task of first reviewing and then augmenting Florence’s wardrobe. That had certainly made her feel like a country bumpkin. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever be ‘up to snuff’, as Lady Blackdown said.

Who knew that so many morning gowns, afternoon gowns and evening gowns would be needed for a Season that only lasted three months? Not to mention all the ribbons and furbelows to go with them. To her horror, the costs had been mounting. It seemed far too extravagant, especially for her, since she was already married. What if Graydon balked at her spending so much and then refused to pay all the same expenses for her sisters? She really ought to discuss it with him.

Unfortunately, she had seen very little of him, just a couple of mornings at breakfast, before he’d ridden out to exercise his horse in Hyde Park, and several times at dinner, when he hadn’t been dining at his club. She was beginning to wonder what sort of marriage he intended they would have. Was it his intention that they live completely separate lives? The idea was daunting. And, to her surprise, disappointing.

That first evening, she had thought she sensed in him a warmth when he’d gazed on her in her nightdress. Since then, he had been nothing but chilly.

Perhaps it was something she had said, or the rules they had agreed upon, that kept him so aloof?

She was in two minds as to whether to approach him head on, or to simply leave matters well alone. Let sleeping dogs lie, as it were. Except she was starting to worry about all these expenses. She really ought to discuss it with him before she went any further.

A scratch at the door admitted Powell. ‘Lady Blackdown is here, my lady.’

Florence glanced at the clock. As always, right on time. ‘Send her up, please, Powell.’

A few moments later, Lady Blackdown breezed in. She was stylishly attired in wide startlingly green-and-black stripes, with a matching green ribbon on her dark-green velvet bonnet. Her greying fair hair was pulled back into a bun at her nape.

‘Good morning, my dear,’ Lady Blackdown said.

Florence rose and they greeted each other with a nearly-kiss on the cheek.

‘Good morning.’ Florence gestured for her to sit.