Page 14 of The Trouble with a Dare

He led Grace around, showing her the newer part of the farmhouse, which comprised an elegant dining room and a more formal drawing room for guests. At least here Sterling did not need to stoop, and it pleased Grace to discover a house she felt she could turn into a lovely home. It just needed a bit of softening, a bit of colour to liven things up and relieve the eye from all the bare walls.

“What’s in there?” she asked as Sterling walked past a closed door.

He glanced back at it, looking vaguely guilty, which piqued her interest no end.

“My study,” he said, turning away as if he would carry on. “Not much of interest.”

“May I see it? Please,” she added, curious why he appeared so reluctant.

She waited patiently, ignoring the look of irritation in his eyes. At length, he gave a long-suffering sigh and walked to the door, which Grace noted was locked. No one was allowed in, it appeared. Perhaps she should count herself honoured to be allowed a peek. Sterling reached into his pocket for the key, unlocked the door and shoved it open, lingering on the threshold. On entering, Grace realised at once what had been missing from the rest of the house. He had filled this room with books and pictures, every inch of wall space crammed with framed prints and paintings, right up to the ceiling. There were bucolic scenes of the countryside, but also paintings of foreign climes and historical depictions. Some she recognised as being by Cassius Cadogan, Viscount Oakley. Books jostled on the shelves, piled on top of each other and stacked in corners in neat towers. She wanted to look at all the titles and see what interested him, but his intense scrutiny of her stopped her from doing so. This was Sterling’s room, she realised with interest, the place he felt most comfortable and perhaps the one part of the house that revealed anything about him. She took all of this in with interest but said nothing. He looked uncomfortable enough as it was without questioning him about everything. Instead, she thanked him politely, and they carried on with the tour—once Sterling had locked the door.

They stuck their heads in at the steamy kitchen where Mrs Gladwish was busy preparing for dinner and had her girls running hither and yon like a hen with her chicks. They did not linger and get under their feet, but Grace made appreciative comments about the delicious scents filling the room before they moved on. It was a fine and comfortably large house, far more so than she had expected, but still not a grand manor like Saxenhurst, and too soon the ground floor was done. They climbed the stairs with the enthusiasm of condemned men going up the Tyburn steps, with Grace horribly aware that her husband was as uncomfortable as she was.

He dutifully showed her about the rooms, all clean and simply furnished, until she got to the room that would be theirs. Not being such a grand property, there was no separate room for the lady of the house. This would be the room they shared.

It was a well-proportioned, bright space, double aspect with leaded light windows. An enormous carved four poster dominated the room and the curtains and bed hangings all matched in a deep green brocade. Like elsewhere in the house, the walls were simply whitewashed, and the wood floor gleamed beneath the edges of another thick wool carpet.

“Your dressing room is through there. I believe Mrs Gladwish has unpacked everything you sent over, and it’s ready for you,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“It is a lovely bedroom, so sunny.”

He shrugged and gestured to an expanse of bare wall. “You’ll be wanting a dressing table and such, so I’ll take you into town soon as I can, and you may choose what you like.”

“That is thoughtful, thank you. I should enjoy that.”

Sterling nodded and cleared his throat. “I….” he began, and then cleared his throat again. “I won’t insist on… on marital relations until after….”

At this, he jerked his head towards her stomach.

“Oh,” Grace said, startled.

Relief surged through her, followed swiftly by another emotion she could not identify. Indignation? Surely not, but… did he not want her? He’d said before his reason for marrying her was because she was beautiful. Well, no doubt the knowledge she carried another man’s child was enough to dull his enthusiasm. She would get fat and awkward soon, too, and… no doubt that would not appeal either. Dully, she wondered if he had a mistress. Many men did, she knew, though it was harder to be discreet about such things in the countryside. She hoped he would not make a fool of her so soon in their marriage, but she knew better than to voice an objection. She hardly had any right to do so.

“That… That is very thoughtful of you,” she said carefully.

“But,” he carried on, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “We shall have to share a bed. There’ll be talk otherwise.”

Grace nodded. At least, she assumed he would interpret the jerky up-and-down motion of her head as a nod.

“Of c-course.” That had sounded rather higher in pitch than she had intended. “We are married now.”

“Aye,” he agreed, and there was a wondering tone to the word that made her study his expression. “Well, you’ll be wanting to freshen up and I’ve things to get on with. The harvest is mostly in, but there’s still work to be done. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Before Grace could say a word in reply, he’d gone out and closed the door.

Chapter 5

Monsieur le Comte,

Mama and I have persuaded my father that some time spent helping your sister-in-law, Mrs Eliza Demarteau, at her charitable school is just the thing to keep me occupied. It is foolish of me, I know, but I have been jittery and out of sorts since that awful scene at Saxenhurst Hall and can settle to nothing without my mind wandering back and fretting about what might have happened.

The house is also very quiet now that Florence is gone, and I miss her dreadfully. Felix and Emmeline are dear creatures, but so much younger than I and inclined to squabbling. Also, Mama has decided I must have an entire new wardrobe for next season and the prospect fills me with dread. A few weeks without the threat of being poked with pins and tutted over for having gained another ounce will be time well spent.

Whilst visiting the school, I am also much looking forward to spending some time with your ward, Miss Smith, and—should you happen to be in the neighbourhood—would be pleased to chance upon you there.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Evie Knight (Daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight) to Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.

4th of September 1839, Thistley House Farm, Sussex.