In every way.
Something about the way she said it made his jaw tighten. He let his eyes drift over her face, slowly and intentionally, just as he had looked at her drenched form at the Serpentine. He watched the flush rise in her cheeks and felt a grim sense of satisfaction.
“I do not care what thetonexpects us to do. We do not need to perform for them,” he insisted. “We should depart. The coachman is currently bringing the carriage.”
“I beg your pardon?” Madeline blinked, the smile completely disappearing this time.
“We will have plenty of time for that later. You may say your goodbyes now.”
He remained unstirred, even by the change in her demeanor.
“You cannot be serious. Why should you drag me away in the middle of the very wedding breakfast your advert had somehow made happen?”
“I am serious,” he murmured. “You signed a contract of duty and discretion. My post was clear about what I want in a wife. Know this now. I do not handle rebellion with kindness. I am running not just a household, but a whole estate.”
The play of emotions on her face was something to behold. She was furious. She was trying desperately not to show it, and she was failing beautifully.
“And if I do not obey you?” she asked, her voice dropping to match his.
“You will be punished. That is the price of disobedience,” he said in a low, measured voice.
It felt like triumph to see the smile completely fade. The mask had slipped, and was replaced with anger. This was not what he asked for, but somehow, he was entertained by the way she lost her battle with her smile.
“All right, then, Your Grace,” she demurred, refusing still to say his name. “Let us go home.”
It looked like she would be obedient for now, but for how long?
Chapter 7
“Your Grace, it is an honor to finally meet you. Please, let me give you a tour of the house. His Grace has already retired to his bedchambers. I shall show you to yours,” the housekeeper, Mrs. Gaines, a kindly-looking, birdlike woman in her fifties, declared.
With spectacles perched on the bridge of her sharp nose and expressive hands, the housekeeper did not wait for Madeline to respond. She simply pivoted on one polished heel to commence a brisk march from the foyer.
“The East Wing is the part of the house most guests would see, but the West Wing has the library,” Mrs. Gaines chirped as she flew through the corridors. “We have been fighting a losing battle with dust in there, but it is worth it. It is one of the finest libraries in the whole country. Oh, do try to keep up, Your Grace. See all the things that we need to explore? The rugs are all Persian and delicate. The servants use only a specific type of broom on them. Then there are the portraits, though we can get by well enough by breezing through them. Some have very sour looks on their faces.”
Madeline had to hop a little to keep up, constricted by the silk of her dress. She would probably have had a better chance of enjoying the tour in her riding clothes. She felt like Mrs. Gaines’ trailing shadow, her eyes trying to scan everything from the tapestries to the marble floors. Mrs. Gaines still flitted about like a woman possessed. Did she have anywhere else to go?
“And the children! Have you met them? The little terrors, I mean... The little darlings should be in the nursery at the moment, but I will not be surprised if they manage to escape again. Mr. Alexander knows how to hide himself in the smallest corners, and Miss Emily has wit that belongs to a much older child. Now, this corridor leads to the music room, but there is a chimney draft that we must resolve, but we have not done so. Mind that floorboard. Yes, that one. It squeaks terribly, so.”
Mrs. Gaines seemed very efficient in her job, but Madeline could not fathom why her new husband could not spare a little time to show her Huntington House himself. Were they to live as strangers?
The house was a marvel of art and architecture, with its marble floors, paintings, and expensive rugs. However, it was also a tomb of silence, at least the first wing was. The place smelled like cedar and beeswax, and for some reason, despair. Madeline huffed a breath, eager to rid herself of the bleakness. She better appreciated the chaos in her family’s house, with arguments at its worst and music and laughter at its best. Even in their darkest moments, they still managed to laugh.
No, I am being unfair. I have just arrived at Huntington, and I am already judging it.
“Why did His Grace leave so abruptly before showing me the house himself? Did he have any matters to tend to? Will we besharing supper later?”
Madeline could not help but ask all those questions. She was truly curious. It was not just a means of complaining or protesting.
“His Grace is not fond of... tours. I believe he must have already received his dinner in his rooms, since he had arranged for separate meals. He told me to have your meal ready in your room and to prepare a bath to soothe the fatigue. Your Grace, this way.”
Madeline followed obediently. Her jaw felt tight from clenching. She was not used to this level of tension, so she could not smile.
She could handle hostility, and she could handle confrontation. But solitude and uncertainty?
These were two things she had problems with. She did not like that he had just abandoned her right after their wedding. But this was the life that she was in now. She would have to do what she could to make it as happy as she promised her sisters and herself it would be.
During the carriage ride, Kenneth had barely spoken to her. He had been content watching the scenery change while resting with his arms folded over his chest. Madeline knew better than to expect love declarations from her husband, but she had at least hoped for some polite conversation.
