Page 66 of The Devil to Pay

“Foolish man,” she sighed, staring at him and wondering when it had happened. When had her heart handed itself into his keeping? It wasn’t like the silly thing had asked her permission; it had just up and left her. Not that she cared. It seemed her heart had a great deal more common sense than she had given it credit for. “You are capable of anything you choose, as you well know. I mean, you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, and you know nothing about gardening, but look how well you got on.”

Jules snorted. “Yes, I got blisters and didn’t fool you for a moment. Any other marvellous examples?”

“I don’t need to give examples,” she said crossly. “I see the man before me. I see you, Jules. You are good and honourable and true, and you mean the things you say. I have not only given myself into your care, but my brothers and sisters, too. Do you really think I am so brainless as to do such a thing if there was the slightest doubt of your worth? I don’t fall in love with just any silly fellow, you know.”

Jules stared at her, and his lips quirked into a smile. “You always know the exact right thing to say to me. I love it that I know you speak only the truth, even if it is sometimes hard to hear. I adore you, Davenport, and I cannot wait to get you alone.”

Selina swallowed and turned away, aware she was blushing crimson.

“Nervous, sweetheart?”

She gave a taut little nod.

“There’s no need,” he soothed, his gentle voice making her heart career about as if it had run mad. “I’ll take the best care of you.”

“I have done my best to prepare for y-you,” she said, a trifle breathlessly.

Jules sat back a bit, regarding her with undisguised interest. “Have you, now?”

“Yes,” she said, putting her chin up. She would not be missish about this. It was a normal part of marriage, and it was obvious Jules would do as he said and take care of her. But she hated not knowing what it was she ought to do and so, with no mother to do the job for her, she had taken it upon herself to become informed. The duchess had tried several times to have a private little chat, but as much as she adored her new mother-in-law, Selina had felt that was simply too much.

“How, may I ask?”

Selina swallowed. “I f-found a book.”

He tugged her a bit closer. “I’m listening. What was the name of this book?”

“A Guide to Matrimonial Matters for the New Wife, by the Reverend Eustace Snipe.”

There was a short silence.

Alarmed, Selina turned to look at her new husband, finding him gazing at her with such a look of fond exasperation she blushed. “W-What?” she began, only to be pulled ruthlessly into his arms.

“Darling, throw the book out,” he whispered, and kissed her until she thought that might actually be a very sensible idea. The reverend had seemed a rather dull fellow after all, which her husband certainly was not.

The staff of Jules’ town house on Upper Brook Street greeted Selina with every appearance of genuine delight. She had met them during the previous weeks as Jules had brought her to the place that would be their new home when they were in town. This audience, at least, she could do, and she greeted them just as she ought, without blushing or stammering despite being a new bride and viscerally aware of the fact. The housekeeper was a very sensible woman and Selina liked her very much. She flattered herself that the feeling was mutual and that they would go along famously.

Briggs was there, of course, though it seemed he had become good friends with many of the gardeners at her home and was determined to keep in touch. He had promised her to keep an eye on her roses if he ever visited and greeted her with warmth and his firm assurance that between them, they could make something of Jules, even though he was a sorry fellow.

Selina admitted herself surprised and rather pleased that he was allowed such leeway in his speech, but supposed if one was to embark on the kind of ridiculous escapade the two of them had tried on her, there ought to be a good deal of trust and friendship between them. Going on the way Jules snorted and told him he was a rude devil, and he had no idea why he kept him on, Selina assumed this was the case.

There was only one cloud in the sunny landscape of her existence. Leaving the family home in Monmouthshire had been a horrid wrench. It was the only home she had ever known, and despite the difficulties and the reality of the situation, she had loved it as her own. She despaired of what would become of her rose garden too. Briggs’ promise was sweet, but she would be surprised if he managed to visit more than once a year. Her garden would need a good deal more tending than that. The duchess had given her several recommendations for excellent housekeepers, though, so—as long as her father and brother paid the necessary wages—Selina was sure the right candidate would ensure the house and garden were taken care of. That was something.

At least her father had been saved the expense of keeping the children. Jules had requested an interview with his new father-in-law and brother-in-law at Beverwyck a few days earlier and, whilst Selina did not know what had been said, she knew Jules had told the pair he would take responsibility for the family, financially and in all other ways, and he expected no interference from either of them.

She doubted they’d put up much of a fight. It was far more likely they would hang upon Jules’ sleeve themselves whenever possible, though the thought made her cringe. She hoped he would not let them plague him.

Jules’ home was elegant and light, built of white stone over five storeys, grand enough to befit the heir to a dukedom, though it was not on the scale of Beverwyck, thank heavens. Large windows flooded the rooms with light and the furnishings were elegant and modern. All of this was his doing, which Selina admitted herself relieved by. She had no eye for design, and the idea of redecorating filled her with terror. Jules, however, seemed to revel in it, and had enjoyed pointing out his favourite pieces and the rooms with which he was most pleased. It had pleased her too, to see the pride he took in having created a place to be admired.

“We’ll let the children make their rooms their own, of course, for I’m certain Abigail will wish to redecorate,” he had said simply, apparently not minding in the least if they changed all his meticulous designs. The ease with which he was prepared to admit them into his world touched her more than she could express.

Now, though, he was in no mood to linger and admire their new home. Once the staff had been greeted, he ushered her upstairs to their adjoining bedrooms.

“I hope you realise that we will not have separate beds,” he said to her the moment the door closed. “I have no problem with you having your own room, but whether we sleep here or in my room, it will be in the same bed.”

Selina nodded, finding no problem with this either, even though her tongue seemed to have glued itself to her mouth. For a woman used to taking charge and telling people what to do, she felt all at sea, and not at all certain of how she ought to behave.

“Come along, Davenport, come and sit down and have a little something. I doubt you ate a bite at the wedding breakfast. I certainly didn’t and I’m famished.”