—David Tate, 1850, Age 23
When I entered the octagonal drawing room that sat just below my bedroom, Julia stayed sitting with a contented smile on her face while both David and his brother stood. David’s assessment of his older brother’s height was correct. If anything, Garrett might have been more than six inches taller than David. But even more impressive than his height was the breadth of his shoulders. Unlike David and Julia, who seemed more comfortable fading into the background of a room, and had the body compositions to do so, Mr. Garrett Tate would always command attention.
Lord Murphy had commanded attention like that the one time I’d seen him, and the thought made me shy away from confidently striding into the room like I’d planned to do. I met his dark-blue eyes for a moment before finding David’s lighter ones.
David stepped forward with his hand outstretched and his eyebrows quirked. He’d definitely noticed my reaction to his brother. His movement shook me out of my stupor. Garrett may look like Lord Murphy, but that didn’t mean he would have his temperament, and I was being incredibly rude. I shored up my courage and metDavid partway. He took my hand in his and tugged me over to the large table that sat in front of a wall of windows.
“Anna,” David said softly. “This is my brother, Mr. Garrett Tate. Garrett, Mrs. Anna Tate.” David spoke with obvious pride, like I wasn’t a woman who’d hoodwinked him into marriage, and I wondered at his reasoning for acting that way. Both Julia and Garrett knew the truth of our marriage.
I held out my hand, and Garrett took it firmly in his. There was no gallantry or flourish in his grip. With his overpowering looks and position in Society, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see him act as a dandy or a flirt. “It is wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Tate. I always assumed David had imagined you all those years.”
“Garrett,” David warned.
“What?” Garrett smiled good-naturedly at his brother. “She sounded too much like one of the women from our paintings in the library willed into life, and you never told us her name or how you came to be acquainted. It was all quite suspicious.” He turned to me, his smile so similar to David’s that my thoughts of his resemblance to Lord Murphy fled. “I can assure you, I’ve never been happier to be wrong. And”—he elbowed David in the chest—“his description of you back then didn’t do you justice.”
So he could flatter after all. A quick glance at David showed him to be less than impressed with his brother’s words. He narrowed one eye at Garrett and said in a low voice, “That’s because she’s grown more beautiful.”
My breath hitched at David’s words. Was he in earnest? Could he really believe I was more beautiful at twenty-five than I had been at seventeen? Certainly not. But my thoughts ran back to the way he’d slid his hands down my hair a few minutes ago and the way he’d fallen backward when he’d lit the lamp in my bedroom. He’d made me feel beautiful then.
Julia nudged Garrett with her elbow, and Garrett’s smile truly blossomed. He gave me another appreciative stare—not in a lecherous way nor even in an honorably interested way—with a smile that hinted at pride and outright joy for his brother.
Still, Garrett acted as if I were doing David a kindness, as if I’d delivered him out of a terrible existence by marrying him, which was exactly the opposite of the truth.
But I hid my thoughts with a jest. “You didn’t tell your family who I was?” I asked David in mock affront.
“I’m telling them now.”
“After we are married.”
If I thought David would be cowed, I was wrong. If anything, my accusation made him stand taller. He leaned toward me and placed his mouth near my ear. “I was very selfish at fourteen. I found you, and I wanted to keep you. You were the buried treasure I happened upon in the sand, and I wasn’t about to share you with the world.”
David’s words curled around me like heat rising from a boiler’s vent on the floor, wrapping around me and protecting my poor heart from the uncertainty that was my constant companion. Garrett’s flattery was pale in comparison.
Julia watched our exchange with cautious but hopeful eyes. This was her first time seeing us together since I’d been sick, and she studied us. Did she see a change?
David put a hand on my back and led me to my seat. The motion was not lost on his brother, who raised an eyebrow in Julia’s direction.
Julia served tea with more joy on her face than I’d ever seen. The color in her cheeks from being outside, along with the return of her brother, made her almost look like a different person from the nervous woman I’d first met at the Prestons’ home.
Garrett snagged a biscuit and casually leaned back in his chair. “It has been much too long since I’ve come to visit. The lack of my presence must have done you good. You both look very well.”
Julia carefully poured tea into Garrett’s cup. “Anna has me slaving away, planting an orchard.”
“An orchard?” Garrett asked, that already familiar smile blossoming on his face. “Is that the mess of earth and debris I saw on my way in?”
Julia pulled the teapot away, even though she’d only half filled the cup. She raised her chin. “We nearly have the land ready for planting, and if you say anything else to disparage it, you won’t be allowed to eat any of the plums we harvest.”
Garrett clamped his mouth shut with his hand. When he released it, his smile was gone, his expression serious. “What I meant to say earlier was that with your help, the orchard is certain to be a master of horticultural genius.”
“Thank you,” Julia said primly, setting down the teapot. “I agree.” Then she held her hands out to her elder brother. “But look at my hands. I’m developing calluses.”
Garrett pulled her hands closer to inspect them, and Julia’s sleeve hitched up slightly. It reminded me of the day we’d climbed the oak tree and her short sleeves had risen, exposing a partial view of a mark very similar to David’s. If the condition wasn’t hereditary, why did Julia have a mark as well? And how many others were hidden beneath her clothing? If David rolled up his sleeves, would I see more than the one I had felt that day in the orchard?
Garrett turned Julia’s hands one way, then the other, sliding his fingertips on each surface before dropping them. “I see nothing wrong with your hands, Julia. Are you making your poor, newlywed sister-in-law do all the work?”
Julia pulled her hands back to her with quick force. “No, I do not make Anna do all the work. We work together.” She bent lower over her hand and pointed to one of her fingers. “There is one, see?”
Garrett narrowed his eyes. David and I did the same, trying to make out the callus Julia was so very proud of. Finally, Garrett rubbed a finger over the spot and raised his eyebrows. “I stand corrected. That is a very impressive callus. Well done.” Garrett turned toward me. “Do you manage to get your husband to work with you? Or has he become idle now that he has a wife to work the land?”
