Beaufort smiled at Annalise. “I suppose I must send you back toMarksman, my lady.”
Though Annalise knew he meant his comment as a jest, it made her uncomfortable. “May I rest a day or two first, my lord?” she responded, more from necessity than humor.
“You stole away Lord Marksman’s love interest, boy?” his grandmother accused.
Beaufort kept his hold on his grandmother’s hand as he braced the woman’s steps. “I did not claim Marksman’s new wife, for his lordship married Duncan’s daughter, Theodora, and we have had that particular conversation multiple times.”
“We have,” the woman said as she eyed Annalise.
Beaufort finally released his grandmother’s hand and reached up to lift Annalise down from the horse. “Come, my lady.”
Annalise was still not confident how to respond, but she permitted him his stratagems.
“Grandmam, this is my wife, Lady Annalise Beaufort,” he said with more tentativeness than Annalise would have preferred. “Lady Beaufort is Marksman’s sister.”
“Did you seduce the girl, Navan?” the woman demanded. “Were you caught in her bed? You said nothing of courting her in your last letter some three months back.”
“I was not,” Beaufort declared, but he no longer held Annalise’s hand. “I had originally spoken to Marksman regarding courting Annalise in the spring.”
“Has she a fortune?” the woman asked.
“Thirty thousand,” Beaufort explained.
Annalise knew she had frowned. All along she had thought Beaufort had proposed from affection, and, naturally, for her protection. Now she was not as assured. How did Beaufort know she was to receive so much? She had never discussed her dowry with Alexander. They had only spoken of the endowment she would receive at age five and twenty, but never a mention of a dowry being offered for herhand in marriage. Why was she not told?
“I suppose it must do,” his grandmother remarked.
“Are the funds why we married so fast, my lord?” Annalise demanded.
“You know it is not,” Beaufort declared. “Grandmam, I have told you repeatedly that I am considered quite wealthy.” He looked pleadingly to Annalise. “Let us go inside and settle in. Later, if the two of you do not mind, I would like time to speak to Medi O’Connor.”
Annalise minded, but what could she say? “Could I not go with you? I would love to explore the area.”
He caught her shoulders with both hands as if to force her to hear him. “I am counting on you to determine what work must be accomplished at Klare Fields Manor.”
She shot a quick glance to Lady Klare and attempted not to frown. “Could I not do so beginning tomorrow? We both have ridden hard these last five days.”
Lady Klare cleared her throat in obvious displeasure with Annalise’s response. “The English be weak,” she murmured under her breath, but loud enough to be heard. The woman told Navan, “Sean McArthur is marrying Meredith Sagran tomorrow. I made promises we’d not be in the fields and all about could attend.”
Annalise knew Beaufort was not happy with his grandmother’s edicts. “I suppose I have little choice in the matter.” To Annalise, he said, “Might you understand if I attempt to learn what I may this afternoon?”
She did notunderstand, but Beaufort’s expression was so downtrodden, there was little else she could do but agree. “Not too late, Navan. You have had little rest on this journey, and I shall not have you know exhaustion.”
He smiled upon her, and, despite their situation, Annalise’s heart knew a bit of happiness. “You are quite remarkable, Lady Beaufort.”
She was glad for his praise, despite another huff of dissatisfaction from his grandmother.
“I will have someone tend your horse and bring in your bag,” he instructed, as he took up the reins for both horses. Her husband bussed his grandmother’s cheek and paused for a longer kiss from her. “Tonight,” he whispered close to her ear as he embraced her. Annalise’s heart skipped a beat. Did he mean tonight they would finally consummate their marriage? Before more could be asked or said, he walked away with the horses, leaving her alone with a woman who obviously did not approve of her.
“Let us go inside,” Lady Klare ordered and walked away from Annalise before more could be said. Once inside, Lady Klare ignored Annalise beyond saying to another woman, “Agnes, this is Beaufort’s wife. He has placed her in charge of my house. I am taking myself off to my chambers.”
“Is Lord Beaufort joining us?” the servant asked.
“It seems my husband means to learn what he may before the wedding tomorrow,” Annalise explained with a bit of embarrassment.
“Just like himself,” the woman said with a shake of her head. “Like his grandfather in that manner. I am Agnes Felix. My late husband served as Lord Klare’s land agent. Naturally, I be brought on to assist Lady Klare. For lack of another word, I am the housekeeper. How long have you and himself been married, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“A fortnight,” Annalise explained.
