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“Shall we?” Gabriel offered his arm.
Evie took it weakly as she moved with him toward the stairs.
“Are you all right?” he asked with a worried frown.
“Yes, just… tired.” Evie tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. She looked away. The long trip had finally worn her down. She’d tried to stay cheerful and optimistic all the way, but now that they’d reached their destination, she finally let herself drop the façade and feel the entire weight of the cumbersome journey.
“You need to rest. Not the best introduction to my husbandly duties, was it? Not much for providing comfort for my wife,” he said gently and looked at her searchingly.
Evie was too tired to show any kind of emotion.
“You will have a large, warm bed. Clean sheets. A warm hearth, and I shall order you a bath first thing in the morning,” he continued when she remained silent. “My cook makes the best breakfast. I’ll ask for extra sweet buns. I know how you like them.”
By the end of his monologue, they reached the viscountess’s chambers. “This room had been vacant for a long time before you crashed into my townhouse,” he said with a smile.
Evie managed a weak smile for his benefit, then entered the room and closed the door, leaving him on the other side of it.
Evie came downstairs the next day feeling rested and cheerful. She had slept for almost twelve hours. Then, she’d soaked in the bath for about an hour. Her clothing lay on the edge of her bed, magically clean and pressed. The poor valet had probably worked on that all night. She smiled to herself. He definitely needed a promotion. Washing and pressing feminine garments were probably not part of his job description. But she was grateful to have clean clothing after a relaxing hot bath.
As she entered the kitchen, she saw the side table was filled with breakfast foods. The dishes were set for two at one side of the table, but Gabriel wasn’t there. She picked up her plate and filled it with warm buns, eggs, and different meats. She was so hungry; she thought she could eat a horse. The cook came in with a hot tea pot a few minutes later.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” The cook curtsied and filled Evie’s cup. She placed the kettle on the side table and stood there watching Evie eat. Evie raised her head to see the cook grinning.
“I apologize. I do not remember your name,” Evie said.
The cook blinked and then smiled. “I’m Matilda, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Matilda.” Evie smiled. “Everything looks delicious. But you don’t have to wait on me. I can pour my own tea.”
“Oh, no, it is my pleasure. I was waiting for the day the master would finally settle down. This house definitely needs a mistress,” she said with a hearty nod.
Evie felt self-conscious and guilty for letting this kind woman think she would have a mistress. But she didn’t have the heart to contradict her.
Let Gabriel deal with his servants,she thought glumly. But the truth was, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave anymore. The days she’d spent with Gabriel had been the most exciting adventure of her life. Yes, she was bedraggled, tired, robbed, starved, and brought to the end of her strength by the time they came to London. She was also exhilarated.
She’d danced with Gabriel at the fair, swam in the freezing river under the stars, galloped away from pursuers, and got married in the smithy by a burly Scot. She had been kissed and caressed expertly by the notorious rake; she’d felt passion the likes of which she had not known existed. She felt alive. She also felt safe and secure. She felt… at home.
The thought hit her unexpectedly. She no longer considered Peacehaven her home. She considered this man, this rogue and libertine, her haven now. And he was her husband.
At that moment, the object of her thoughts entered the room. She started guiltily, afraid that he could see her musings on her expressive face.
“There you are,” he said cheerfully as he took his place at the head of the table. He gestured for Matilda to bring him some tea.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” Evie asked in surprise.
“I have, but that was a while ago. You slept a lot.” He grinned at her. “Are there any more scones left?” he addressed the cook.
“Of course.” Matilda ran to the side table and brought him several scones.
“I was in my study, notifying your solicitor of our marriage,” he said, after taking a bite of a scone and a sip of his tea. “He is going to prepare all the documents and alert your cousin of our arrival this afternoon.”
“Oh.” Evie was quickly jolted back to reality.Of course.This was why he’d agreed to this whole sham. Her inheritance. Not that she held it against him. She’d like to wrestle her lands, her home, out of the odious Montbrooks’ hands as soon as possible too. It just wasn’t her first thought this morning. “Good,” she said, swallowing her disappointment. “What time shall we leave?”
Gabriel took his watch out of his pocket and squinted at it slightly. “In about two hours. You have enough time to get yourself in order and even have another snack.” He smiled, looking at her full plate.
“Now that I am not jostling in a carriage for hours a day, I feel like I could eat an elephant. Everything is delicious, Matilda.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” The cook beamed at her.
“That will be all, Matilda.” Gabriel gave her a look full of meaning. She curtsied hastily and hurried away from the room.
Gabriel cleared his throat loudly. Evie looked at his beautiful face and saw hesitation and uncertainty in his eyes. His blond hair glinted in the morning light, and his attire was impeccable. He looked once again like the stunning rake he was when she first met him. Only now, she could see vulnerability deep in his blue eyes.
“I know that we agreed that once we arrived in London, you would retire to your southern estate, and I would remain here….” He paused as if searching for words. “But you need new gowns.” He waved a hand toward her bodice, and Evie couldn’t help but look down at the day gown she’d worn at least four times during the last ten days. “And I need new staff for my townhouse,” he continued carelessly. “Maybe we can strike another deal. I shall order you a new wardrobe, befitting the wife of a libertine viscount. I shall even pay for it, not taking it out of your allowance. And in return, you will stay here awhile and help me fill this house with worthy servants. I am sure I know nothing about running a household,” he finished on a strangled note.
He was asking her to stay. She looked at him, carefully placing her fork on the side of her dish. He was asking her to stay in London with him. And he was nervous about it. It couldn’t have been her imagination. The servants, the gowns… It was all an excuse to keep her with him. She could barely swallow her elation.
She pretended to consider it before replying. “I need to think about it,” she said slowly, although she was bursting from joy on the inside. But then she remembered her Peacehaven tenants, the people who relied on her there, her servants at other estates, especially Carlisle. They all suffered from Montbrook’s rule. There was a lot to take care of. “There are people who depend on me,” she added lamely.
“Of course,” he said courteously. “Take your time.”
