Page 37 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

“Good morning, my lady.” Sophia pulled back the bed curtains and then moved to the window to open the drapes. Low-hung gray clouds covered the sky, just the sort of weather that enticed one to curl up with a fire, a cup of tea, and a good book. But Nash had said during their journey that he was anxious to visit the tenants.

From what he’d told her, his steward, Mr. Jones, had been reporting less profits over the past couple of years than what they’d received for years before that. He had also claimed expenses had risen. When she questioned him, Nash admitted the thought had crossed his mind that Mr. Jones might be pilfering money from him, but he was an older man who had been employed by the Clarendon title for many years, as well as his father before him. It hardly seemed likely that he would suddenly begin to steal from them.

Arabella climbed from bed and allowed Sophia to tend to her morning ablutions. With a blue and white striped day dress and her hair in a sensible braid that Sophia had wrapped around her head, Arabella descended the stairs to the breakfast room. She’d been so tired the night before, she’d forgotten where Mrs. Davies had said it was and had to have a footman direct her.

Nash sat at the table, his newspaper covering his face. As soon as she entered, he placed the paper next to his plate and stood. “Good morning. You had a restful sleep, I assume?”

“Yes, I did. I hardly remember finishing our supper last evening.”

“You were a bit weary, but I must say, you look quite refreshed this morning.”

Did the twinkle in his eye and lopsided smile mean he intended to play the husband tonight? A shiver ran through her at the thought of his warm, large hands on her naked flesh. Yes, she was ready for another go at playing wife.

“I would like to make the first rounds of tenant visits in about an hour. There are several I wish to speak with about this drop in production Mr. Jones keeps sending correspondence about. Before you came down, I took a short ride to the closest farms and saw no evidence of such. That disturbs me for more than one reason. I do not like employing someone whose trust I question, and it reminds me that I have been neglecting my estate duties in favor of Parliament.”

He took a sip of coffee from his blue and white china cup and placed it back into the saucer. “Will you be ready?

She studied him as he spoke. His country dress was less formal than Town dress. His beige breeches, tucked into shiny Hessian boots, fit snugly over his bulging muscles. He wore no waistcoat under his dark green woolen jacket. A loosely tied cravat, giving him a somewhat rakish look, completed the outfit. The man was definitely not hard to look at. The heat rose once again in her face. “Yes, I will be ready as soon as I finish breakfast.”

“Excellent.” He stood and pushed his chair back. “I wish to go over the correspondence I brought with me from London, so when you are ready, please join me in the library. If you don’t remember where that is, just ask one of the footmen to direct you.” Kissing her on the top of her head, he quit the room.

Arabella took her time eating her breakfast since Nash had given her an hour. She idly looked over the newspaper. Since it had arrived by post, it bore the previous day’s date. As she leisurely turned the pages, she took only a quick glance at the Society pages. She’d never been interested in who was intending to offer for whom, who the new Incomparable was, and which debutante was not receiving enough attention, despite her large dowry. She shook her head at the nonsense she was so happy to be away from. Perhaps they could spend the rest of the Season in the country.

She finished her breakfast and took a slow walk to her bedchamber to retrieve her bonnet and gloves.

Her new home was a bit different from the home in which she’d been raised. Clarendon Manor boasted thick carpets, silk wall coverings, and old, but well-cared-for, furniture. While her childhood homes had been quite pleasant, this one spoke of a family with perhaps more funds to keep it up to standard.

She hoped to have time during the day to take a tour with Mrs. Davies, but now she needed to present herself to Nash for their tenant visits. Drawing on her gloves, she checked her appearance in the mirror and followed a footman to the library.

Nash sat behind an immense desk, an open ledger book in front of him, his hands propping his head up. From the condition of his hair, he must have spent some time running his fingers through it.

“Are things bad?” She took the chair in front of his desk. In her entire life, she had never given money a thought. She’d visited the shops along Bond Street and had the bills sent to Father. Only once had Mother mentioned that perhaps Arabella could do without a gown she had desperately wanted for an upcoming ball. That had been the first time money, or perhaps a lack thereof, had ever been brought to her attention.

“I’m sure my dowry can be put to good use. I know Papa always said it was a significant amount. I assume that will help?”

Chapter Twelve

I assume that will help?

Nash studied Arabella. Apparently, her mother had not told her about dipping into her dowry to keep them both from starving after the late earl had cocked up his toes. But, since Nash had hidden their situation from his mother, he felt no obligation to tell his wife, either. Women were to be protected. It was his duty to provide for all the women in his life. Arabella, Mother, and now, his mother-in-law. He would get to the bottom of the lack of funds, and hopefully, the investment he hoped to join would help. Until then, it was his problem to deal with and solve.

“Everything is fine, my dear. You are not to trouble yourself.” He slammed the ledger book closed and st

ood. “Now I would like to take my wife on a round of calls to the tenants so they can meet you. Cook has put together baskets that we will bring with us. It is a family tradition. If they are all prepared, have one of the footmen load them into the carriage. I will make sure the correct carriage has been brought around.”

“How many will we be visiting?”

“We will try perhaps four or five today. More tomorrow.” He rounded the desk and took her arm. “I like your gown. It suits you.” He studied her head. “And your hair. You look very much the lord of the manor’s wife.”

Blushing prettily, she gave him a slight curtsy. “Thank you, my lord.”

Life could be quite pleasant when they weren’t at odds with each other. One place his wife was quite amenable was the bedchamber. That was where her incongruous behavior was quite acceptable. He also saw in her a desire to try new things. His blood warmed and traveled south at all the new things he could offer to show her.

He intended to make love to his wife tonight. Two nights of tucking her into bed with no more than a peck on her forehead were beginning to wear on him. In the time they’d been married, he’d only had the pleasure of her body once. Frustrated last evening when she had again fallen asleep at the table, he’d left her and retired to his chamber, alone.

After which he had doused his frustration with a few snifters of brandy. That was not a habit he intended to continue. He needed the release of a woman’s body and intended to have her as much as he wanted.

He’d dismissed his mistress shortly after he’d announced his betrothal to Arabella at Ashbourne’s ball. Loyalty meant a great deal to him, and he felt his wife deserved his loyalty, just as he fully expected the same from her. He would not tolerate taking lovers even once an heir and a spare had made their appearances.