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Ben reclined on his elbows and stared silently up at the sky as memories flooded back.
“I had no idea Winton Court was so isolated,” Gemma complained. “It is not so very far from London, after all. I expected much more in the way of entertainments. My parents’ home in the Cotswolds is livelier than it is here, and they are even farther away than Hampshire is.” She flung herself into a nearby chair with a sigh. “There are no young ladies of high enough esteem to befriend in the village, no house parties to attend. You don’t even have a sister or brother with whom I may converse. There is only you. And you have become rather tedious in a remarkably short amount of time.”
“Now, my dear,” Ben said, trying to placate Gemma once again. “I think you are merely homesick. It takes time to adjust to marriage and a new home.” He’d discovered marriage required a great deal of adjusting and never knew what to expect from his young bride from one day to the next. “I had hoped the packet of letters you received from your family and friends yesterday would lift your spirits.”
“They did just the opposite,” she said, a large tear rolling down her face. Ben had learned that she could cry at will, however, so he was unmoved. “They are having such delightful times together. And they are all traveling to Bath to take the waters. Oh, but I long to go with them.”
They had been married but a few months, and it had seemed an eternity.
He glanced over at Rebecca Jennings as she stared out at the pond before them, quietly engrossed in her own thoughts. To be able to sit with someone thusly and not require witty banter was something he’d not had in his brief marriage; it felt like an anomaly. A wonderful anomaly. She’d also had the loving chaos of parents and siblings around her during her childhood and still did.
Oh, how he envied her.
