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“I am not sure –”
“You know the house better than anyone else here,” Fergus reminded him. When Simon hesitated again, Fergus asked, “Please?”
“As you wish, Your Grace,” Simon sighed, bowing. “Should we go down to see if her business with the housekeeper is complete, and if she is even willing?”
Fergus gestured for Simon to lead the way out of the room and down toward the parlor. Mrs. Wright’s voice carried out into the foyer as they got closer.
“Typically, His Grace will dine wherever he pleases, so we are not so used to setting the table at supper. Will you require supper to be served in the dining room?” Edwina and Mrs. Wright looked up at Fergus and Simon as they stepped into the room. Edwina quickly looked back at her hands in her lap.
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Fergus said. “I did not mean to interrupt. Please, let Mrs. Wright know your preference.”
“Yes, please,” Edwina answered, without glancing back at Fergus.
“Your Grace, I was hoping to take you on a tour of the house and grounds. My steward here has agreed to accompany us and provide insight. Would you be willing to join me?”
She looked up at Fergus and then to Simon, considering for a moment. Looking to Mrs. Wright, she said, “Perhaps we could continue at another time.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mrs. Wright said, dipping into a quick curtsey before leaving the room. “I shall bring tomorrow’s menu to you later this afternoon for approval.”
“Thank you,” Edwina said, smiling kindly at the woman.
As soon as Mrs. Wright left the room, Fergus indicated Simon, telling Edwina, “This is Simon Cleaves. He has been in the house for more than a decade, now.”
“A pleasure to meet you officially, Mr. Cleaves,” Edwina said, nodding to him. Fergus could not help but notice that her face grew tight as she spoke to them, her shoulders more rigid.
“If you would, then, please?” Fergus asked, waving to the parlor door. She nodded, leading the way out of the room. As she passed him, the scent of her wafted over him, like lavender, as though she matched the scent to the shade of her dress.
“My father built this as a country home in the latest fashion of the time,” Fergus started, gesturing down one of the long corridors. “He wanted to show off his wealth and status.”
“Did you grow up here, then?” Edwina asked, her tone polite. He could not help but feel that he was a guest at a dinner party, and she felt like she was obliged to entertain him.
“I did,” he replied. Their footsteps echoed in the long hallway.
“I noticed there are no paintings, no sculptures, and no artwork of any sort. No decorations. Is the house unfinished then?” Fergus looked to Simon briefly, who only shook his head in mild exasperation.
“This house is finished,” Fergus assured her then gestured down another hallway. “This way.” He pointed out the music room, another sitting room, then on to the kitchen and scullery, pointing out Mrs. Wright’s room, the butler’s room, and Simon’s room. Leading them up the stairs to the second floor, he pushed open the door to the library.
“I spend a lot of my time here,” he told her. She looked around in wonder, turning around to take in all the shelves of books, the ladders to reach the upper portions, and the great chairs for reading in comfort.
“Do you read a lot?” she asked in amazement. He relaxed a little, seeing her smile openly in pleasure.
“I do, but I also just find comfort here,” he explained.
Simon gave him a knowing look, but Fergus did not feel like revealing more than he already had. His new wife did not yet need to know about the nightmares that kept him up at night or the trouble he had sleeping. If he had his way, she would never have to know.
“There are books for every reader,” he assured her. “Whatever you wish. If you cannot find it, someone can help you find it, or we will obtain it for you.”
She smiled directly at him then. “The library at Haverton House was so small. I think I read every book twice. Even Fordyce’s sermons. I do not think I ever slept better.”
“Perhaps I should give that a shot,” Fergus murmured.
“You said something, Your Grace?” Edwina asked him, looking at him inquisitively.
“Nothing,” he told her quickly and gestured for her to follow him. “Please, let us continue.” Leading her further down the hall, he showed her the tea room, his study, the ballroom, and finally, the first guestrooms in the house.
“However, the family rooms are upstairs,” he told her, taking her up the stairs on the opposite end of the hallway.
Coming to the top of the stairs, he gestured to two doors on the right side of the corridor. “These are the master suites. This first one is mine, the second will be yours.” She nodded quietly, the color draining from her face. She ducked her head as though to keep going. Fergus looked to Simon for help.
