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I have advertised for a wife, and heaven help me, I seem to have got one. He swallowed. The prospect was suddenly terrifying. What do I know about women? Absolutely nothing.

Yet the notion of letting her go was intolerable. He was almost too afraid to hope that his days of loneliness were at an end. His chest ached. He rubbed it absently.

“What do you think, Kes? Would you like to have her for your mistress?”

Kester put a paw on his knee and licked his face, which he took as a yes.

“I think I agree, old chap!” Deo scruffed the dog’s ears. “Though I fear I may have wandered into foreign territory. I haven’t the first notion how to deal with a female. I shall no doubt muck it up.” He frowned. “She seems biddable enough. If I train her well in my habits and preferences, perhaps there will be little disruption to things. I don’t like disruption.” He sighed. “I wished for this, however, so I suppose I will just have to put up with a little discomfort until things get sorted out. The felicity of her company will no doubt outweigh any minor contretemps that occur. She doesn’t appear to be a quarrelsome or naggish sort of female, nor is she hysterical or overly dramatic.”

Kester pawed at him because he had stopped stroking his ears. “Perhaps we had best retire for the night. I may have to get married tomorrow. I should be well rested for such an event, don’t you think?”

*

After passing an uncomfortable night plagued by wakefulness and vague dreams that faded with the light, Deo rose early, washed, dressed, and waited in the morning room somewhat impatiently for Miss Bromwich to appear for breakfast. He was conscious of his ill temper and aware enough to know its cause was nervousness. He was afraid that, all evidence to the contrary, she was going to say him nay. He had convinced himself in the middle of the night that the whole enterprise was mad, and he was on a disastrous trajectory. By four o’clock he was convinced she would refuse him anyway. By the time he sat down to breakfast, he was so confused, he took refuge in grumpiness. It was comfortingly familiar.

Thus, when she did appear just after eight o’clock, he snapped.

“You’re late!”

She flinched slightly and changed color. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware there was a set time for breakfast.”

“I breakfast at seven,” he said roughly, wincing internally at his own rudeness.

“I shall ensure I am here at seven in future,” she said, quietly taking a seat. He sat down after her, and shook out his napkin. He had taken nothing but a cup of tea while waiting for her.

“You mean to stay then?” he asked, his heart thudding faster than it should.

“I do,” she said and then colored further. “That is, if you still wish me to?”

A surge of relief filled his chest, and he said, his voice gruff to cover the emotion, “Yes.” Then, “Of course I do!” He swallowed. “This damned project won’t get done without you.”

“Oh!” She smiled. “When will we begin?”

“Tomorrow.” He reached for some toast and buttered it, placing it on his plate along with a generous serving of ham and eggs. “Today we will get married and set up your desk in my study.” He corrected himself. “Our study. That will take some getting used to.” He frowned across the table at her as she blinked at him in shock. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I suppose I am a little shocked by how quickly things are proceeding. But I have no objection,” she added hastily.

He nodded. “Very well.”

She looked down at her gown and then up at him. “Where will we be married?”

“The local church. I have already warned the vicar. I obtained the license the other day from the archdeacon.”

“Oh, but how could you, when you didn’t know—”

“I had your name from your letter. You were my only applicant, Miss Bromwich.”

“Oh,” she said again. “And why was the chambermaid sleeping in my dressing room last night?”

“To observe the proprieties, Miss Bromwich. I told you all would be proper.”

“Indeed, thank you.”

“You needn’t fear that I will be bothering you, either,” he added, just to make sure there was no misunderstanding. “I said this marriage would be in name only initially. You have my word that I will respect that.”

“Th-thank you.” She flushed and looked down at her plate. After a moment or two she said. “My gown—”

He observed her gown of pale blue muslin, of similar cut and style to the previous day’s green affair. Both gowns were plain, but to his eyes quite becoming to her figure. “What’s wrong with it?”