“We should probably begin preparing for dinner,” he said, completely avoiding addressing her inquiry.
Wasn’t that interesting? He’d had a choice.
She could not imagine that Tristan had offered to marry her. Would she have been happier with him? Would he have taken her with him when he set sail or left her behind? Did it really matter? It was a bit of a revelation, though, to realize that Sebastian could have pawned her off on his brother. But he hadn’t.
Of course, he hadn’t, silly goose. If he was anything at all, he was a man who took responsibility for his actions. He kissed you in the garden. He felt obligated to marry you.
Only perhaps it was more.
Chapter 26
Following dinner, Mary sat curled in a chair in the library with her small rosewood secretary on her lap and jotted notes regarding tasks she needed to see to. The residence had a smaller library with a delicate desk in it that she assumed the former duchess had used, but she wanted to be near Sebastian. He worked at his desk, scouring through ledgers, making notations on a sheaf of paper beside him. So much needed to be done here that it was almost like starting over.
“Sebastian?”
“Hmmm?” He kept his attention on the books.
“I thought I might go to the village tomorrow and see about hiring some temporary help to assist the servants in readying the remainder of the manor. So much requires dusting, polishing, and scrubbing that I thought it would hurry things along.”
“Splendid notion,” he muttered distractedly.
“Then I thought I might go to Willow Hall. I know Father was planning to leave London shortly after we did. I wanted to see about luring away some of his servants.”
“Splendid notion.”
“His gardener, for example, has been training his son in the trade. I thought we could offer the young man a position here as our gardener.”
“Splendid notion.”
“I think we would need more than one but it would be a start.”
“Splendid notion.”
“Then I thought I might very well scamper through the fields without my clothing.”
“Splendid—”
He paused before giving her a pointed look. She smiled mischievously. “I wasn’t certain you were listening.”
He poured whiskey into a glass, then swirled it, watching her closely over the rim. “Feeling neglected?”
“A little.”
“If I spend most of the morning in bed, and a good part of the afternoon riding, I must catch up with business in the evenings.”
She drew a heart on her paper, blackened it in. “I know. It’s just that many couples, after they marry, take a wedding trip.”
“We did. We took a trip from London to here.”
She scowled at him, then realized he was not being deliberately obtuse. “No, they go somewhere that they can be alone.”
“We’re alone here.”
She bit back a growl. “Without responsibilities, so they can concentrate on each other.”
He leaned back in his chair, one corner of his mouth curving up ever so slightly. “Have an itch for me to take you again?”
She did, but not when he put it like that. She scoffed. “You’re impossible.”
