Page 30

She heard the door open and listlessly she turned her head on her pillow, expecting to see Mary come to clean her room.

Instead, she found Philip standing inside the room as he shut the door behind him. His clothes were rumpled, and he was barefoot, while his face looked as haunted as she felt, with deep shadows under his eyes. Noticing he had suffered during the night as she had made her feel better. Perhaps it was evidence that he cared about making their marriage work as much as she did. Maybe they were in this together, and he would work to repair it as she wanted to do?

“I am sorry, Annabel.” Tears of relief welled in her eyes, and she sat up to receive him. Philip strode across the room urgently. He sat on the edge of the bed and opened his arms. Annabel emitted a low sob as she buried herself in his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. “Can we start again, my beautiful wife?”

Annabel nodded emphatically into his shoulder, her tears drying up. “I want to make this marriage work. I am so sorry for pressing you to talk about it.”

“I will tell you about Richard, but not yet. Can you give me a little time? I have been alone with my thoughts for a long time, and I am not accustomed to discussing such subjects. It is embarrassing and painful, but I promise you I will talk to you about it as soon as I am ready.” He held her against his broad chest, his long arms engulfing her much smaller body. She could hear his heart beating, and it was the most wonderful sound she had ever heard. He rested his head against her disheveled hair as he clasped her close, and she felt a rush of hope restoring her to her natural state of optimism. They could work together to form a strong marriage if they were both willing participants. Philip’s presence was a balm, a vow that they were in this marriage together.

“You promise?”

“I promise. I will always tell you the truth. But sometimes you will have to be patient and give me a little time. I have to get used to the notion that I can bare my thoughts to you. I have placed my faith unwisely in the past, but know this, Annabel, I do trust you. We will build a strong marriage.”

Annabel gave a happy sigh as his words mirrored her thoughts of moments ago. This new beginning was important to her.

“You will have your time. Now let me up.”

Philip let her go, and she clumsily lifted herself, straightening her maidenly night rail and hopping down from the bed. She made her way over to the washstand where a jug of cold water, some towels, and a washbasin were waiting. She poured some water in and then used a towel to clean her face and water to rinse her mouth. When she felt presentable, she walked back to where Philip sat up against her headboard. He regarded her affectionately and looked up at her standing beside him, arching one of his blond eyebrows in query.

“I am still in my bedroom in my night rail. As far as I am concerned, this still counts as my wedding night.”

Philip chuckled, his gray eyes sparkling. “I cannot fault that logic.”

Chapter Eleven

"The companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain."

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

* * *

The afternoon light shifted slowly across the room as Annabel rolled on her back and rubbed her eyes, groggy from the long hours in Philip’s arms. She stretched her body and reached out. Philip’s spot on the bed was still warm, indicating she had just missed him arising. She smiled in happiness.

She started when she heard a knock on the door. Then gasped in surprise when the door opened to reveal a familiar, round face peeking around it. Annabel grasped the counterpane and pulled it up to her chin.

“Mrs. Harris!”

“Aye, child. It is me.”

“How are you here?”

“Your new husband had a word with Lord Filminster before the two of you left yesterday. The baron was in the pouts. Apparently, my change in position is most inconvenient for him, but he released me last night and I arrived in the second carriage with your trunks. The baron said your husband will pay me an entire quarter’s wages on behalf of his lordship for letting me go without notice. And pay me for the quarter I am to work here. I’m to be rich with two quarters’ worth of wages!”

The housekeeper made her way into the room bearing a laden tray, which she balanced on the end of the bed.

“His Grace organized this before we even left yesterday?”

“Aye, something about his new bride getting her heart’s desire for her wedding day. His lordship complained at length about the duke’s ux—uxo—uxorious nature, whatever that means. I am sorry to say that I believe His Grace had to promise the two of you would visit soon to make it up to the baron for my leaving with no notice or replacement to take over my duties.”

Annabel winced at the idea of one of the baron’s infamous dinners, but quickly brightened and clapped her hands in delight. “I am so happy to see you, Mrs. Harris!” She grew embarrassed a moment later as she realized she was lying under her counterpane and sheets in the afternoon.

“My girl, the duke’s home is quite impressive. My new room is larger than I am used to, and there is a beautiful selection of fine silver to care for. I think I shall like it here. Although there is an ill-tempered butler I need to tame downstairs. He seems to think he knows more than me, but I will set him straight directly!”

“Clinton? He seemed most proper to me.”

Mrs. Harris snorted in dissent. “More like a proper stick up his bum.”

Annabel chuckled at her convivial attendant’s unusual display of ill humor. “Mrs. Harris, I don’t think you can say that. Besides, I thought he was a discreet man with exemplary composure. What did you do to cause his ire?”