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Harry shrugged and started toward the door. He was halfway across the hall when he noticed he was missing a companion.
“Cato,” he called, his eye searching the hall for his pet. “Where are you going?” he asked him when he found him entering the breakfast room.
Cato paused and turned as if he was returning to his master, but then to Harry’s surprise, wagged his tail and dashed into the breakfast room. His wife’s soft voice streamed out as she welcomed him.
Gerard began to laugh, and Harry gave him a disapproving look. “Come now, Harry, this is a phenomenon. The dog has never disobeyed you.”
“Well, now he has,” Harry muttered, stepping outside and drawing the wide brim of his hat over his brow, grateful for the overcast skies.
“I noticed the curtains in the room were open,” Gerard remarked.
“So did I.”
“Does it displease you?”
“In the extreme.” That was a lie. Harry had been more afraid than displeased.
“I must admit that I was greatly surprised when I saw her,” his friend continued as they walked in the direction of the brewery.
“Your surprise cannot match mine,” Harry said, recalling the night before when he had seen her in her nightrail. This marriage was supposed to be one of convenience, but it was soon becoming an inconvenience for him, especially his body.
“You made a splendid match without knowing, my friend.”
“I thought you disapproved of my marriage. Do not tell me that her beauty changed your mind.” Harry glanced at Gerard, who grinned.
“Since the beginning of time, beauty has changed the opinions of men. I am shamelessly demonstrating how fickle we are.”
Harry chuckled. “Find yourself a wife, Gerard. I am starting to think you might be in want of one.”
“Only a day after marrying and you are advocating for it. Has she bewitched you already?”
Harry did not respond because he was unable to understand what she did to him. He longed to see her, yet avoided every opportunity.
“If she has not bewitched you, she certainly has your dog,” Gerard said.
Indeed, she has, and the foolish creature fell so easily for her soft voice, amber eyes, and flaming hair. Damn!
Harry was unable to stop thinking about his wife even as his friend talked about other matters, and when they arrived at the brewery, it became even harder for him to concentrate because the deep amber ale reminded him of her.
After breakfast, Bridget met with Mrs. Piper in the drawing room, where she was shown the household accounts. Belinda had gone to rest after taking some chamomile tea.
“I had the curtains opened, Mrs. Piper,” Bridget said when she observed the woman occasionally glancing at the windows.
“Of course, Your Grace,” the housekeeper returned graciously. “The room looks beautiful with light streaming in.”
The sun was not shining, but she was right. The room did indeed look better. Not beautiful, however.
“I would like to make some changes in the castle, beginning with the redecoration of the drawing rooms, dining room, and some of the bedchambers. And I would like your advice on the matter.”
Mrs. Piper’s gray eyes brightened. “You honor me, Your Grace.”
Bridget smiled as Cato nudged her hand. She tenderly stroked the fur on his neck, and he wagged his bushy tail happily. She recalled hearing the duke call for him and had almost laughed when he defied him and bounded into the room to her. She was certain Cato was her ally now.
“I also wish to speak with Monsieur Paquin regarding the menu,” she said to Mrs. Piper, whose brows rose.
“You wish to have it changed, Your Grace?”
“Not entirely. Shall we go now?”
