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Rose, too, was busy planning and had twelve pages of notes, organized by room, for the upcoming Highwood Gala.She insisted Matthew call it a gala, so no one was confused about its importance.There were other notes which were dizzying in detail.Matthew raised his brow when he saw the cost she estimated.
“Well, aren’t you the one bribing the king with ten thousand pounds for attending?I can surely make it worth his while.”
“That was the minimum he negotiated.I thought it was a bargain.”
She had the feather pressed to her lips, brushing thoughtfully.“Have you heard of Henry Barker?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“Well, I think we are going to include one of his panoramas in the circle drive.Of course, if he is doing an exhibition in Italy, it might be difficult.”
“Impossible.”
“But there has never been a panorama at atongala before,” Rose said.
“If you count Islington as part of theton.”
“Don’t remind me, Mr.Hardy.”
“Mrs.Beecham surely has thought of half the things on your list.”
“If you would have interviewed one or two others, you would have had someone with whom to compare Mrs.Beecham.I am still astounded you didn’t ask for my help unless...unless you had some ulterior motive for not asking me.”
He felt her piercing gaze.He didn’t look up.
“I always have ulterior motives,” he said.
“Whatever they were, Mr.Hardy.I will crush them—”
“Between your thighs?”
“If I must.Good Lord, we are conversing as if there is not another person in the world.What would your mother think if she overheard us?”
“I’m afraid using my mother as a moral example does not have the effect you think it might.”
“All right then.The children might overhear.”
He wagged his brow.
“Why haven’t you told me more about your life?About your youth?About your businesses?Do you have ulterior motives about that as well?”she asked.
He thought the whole truth was wholly indigestible at this time.“If you still want to be my wife in one month’s time, I will tell you.”
She laughed, thinking he was still jesting with her.“One month’s time?Mr.Hardy, our project,” she patted her still flat stomach, “is months in the making.I think it is safe to assume we will be man and wife until then.At least.”
“Then I will be more specific.If we are still speaking to each other by the time the baby is born, I think our future together will be quite charmed, at the least.”
She set her feathered quill aside and folded her hands.“Matthew, you confuse me.”
“Did Alice not tell you that was a possibility?”
“She told me what I wanted to hear.”
“She told me what I wanted to hear, too, and it was music to my ears.”
“I’ve never seen a man and woman in London who truly loved each other, Matthew.Respected, of course.Loyal, too.But a man who wants to listen to his wife’s small observations about life, hear the concerns about the housemaid who appears sad and the cook who makes the driest leg of mutton.What I’ve seen is that men are bored with women outside the bedroom and sometimes within it.I don’t think I know what love is within the confines of atonmarriage.And it’s no fault of yours or of mine,” she said.
“When you look at me, I’m supposed to believe that love isn’t possible between us?”
