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CHAPTERFOURTEEN
As Fergus sat at his desk, surrounded by the vases of flowers, he realized that Edwina’s plan had worked. Looking at the flowers reminded him of their intimacy from the night before, and he found himself thinking about her, wondering what she was doing to occupy her time. The figures in the ledger blurred together.
A knock came on the door, and Fergus looked up, rubbing his eyes. “Come,” he called out.
Simon came in, carrying a stack of letters. “You have been at work all day, Your Grace. Perhaps a break is in order?”
“Where is my wife today?” Fergus asked, sitting back in the chair.
“She is taking tea in the garden, out at the gazebo,” Simon informed him, setting the letters on the desk. The image of Edwina, sitting in the gazebo, framed by ivy and spring blooms, enticed him. Being out of doors seemed much more pleasant than being holed up in his dark study, something he rarely thought about.
“I think I shall join her,” Fergus announced, standing.
“She seems to be in good spirits today.”
Fergus raised his eyebrow as he turned to read Simon’s expression as his information seemed strange. “As opposed to what?”
“She was quite out of sorts yesterday. I do apologize for all the…” Simon trailed off, waving at the flowers around the room.
“I do not mind, and I told her as such,” Fergus said defensively. “Did my wife speak to you?”
“No, not so much,” Simon said, hesitating. “She did ask for help in… ah… helping you.”
“Helping me?” Fergus asked, perplexed. “Why should I need help?”
Simon shrugged. “I cannot rightly say, Your Grace. She mentioned it right after the incident with the mirror.”
“Why should I need help, though?” Fergus demanded.
“Look,” Simon sighed. “Everyone can see that you are not yourself. Even your new bride knows there is something amiss.”
“I wonder what that could possibly be,” Fergus asked him sarcastically. “Please, do not speak of me to my wife again. Do you understand me?”
“Of course,” Simon said with a bow. “Do you need anything else from me?”
“No,” Fergus told Simon dismissively, adding, “I am going to go find my wife,” as he left the room in search of Edwina.
He made short work of the hedges in the garden and found Edwina with a tray of tea in the gazebo by the pond. She had a book over her knee as she sipped from her teacup, staring wistfully out over the lawn and pond. The setting looked like a painting, her sitting there alone in her pale dress, the spring blooms brighter than he had even imagined. When she saw him approaching, she set the teacup down and smiled at him.
“Your Grace, how wonderful for you to join me,” she greeted, reaching her hand to him as he stepped into the gazebo. He took her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles gently, the scent of peony and sunshine wafting up from her gloves.
“How are you today?” he asked, sitting down beside her. She only had one teacup, so he satisfied himself by stealing one of the biscuits on her plate and sneaking glances at her radiant beauty. He wished he could just watch her forever or just sit in silence because he was afraid he might say the wrong thing or get overwhelmed
“Quite well,” she assured him, a flush coming over her cheeks. “I slept very well after you left.”
“That is good to hear,” he told her honestly, amused by her demure flush.
“Your Grace…” she trailed off then suddenly said, “Surely, I can call you by your Christian name by now. Fergus?”
He knew that the moment could not last. Hearing his Christian name out loud brought a rush of feelings back to him. His mother was the last person to call him Fergus, and he had not heard her voice in many years.
“I would appreciate it if we remained formal for now,” he said uncomfortably.
“For what reason?” she asked, surprised. “We are married.”
“Just –” he protested and shook his head. “Please, just for now.” She pressed her mouth into a thin line, showing her obvious displeasure, and he sought something to change the subject.
“Do you ride?” he asked suddenly. He had to change the subject, else he would not be able to stay near her.
