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“Let me do that.”
He crouched down and added a generous shovelful into the coal grate to build up the blaze.
Samantha eyed how much coal was left in the bucket, making a mental calculation. “That much should certainly keep your toes warm.”
“Samantha, have you been stinting on coal to save money?” he asked as he put the tool back in the bucket.
“Maybe a bit.”
“Then please stop. I have a generous income as well as substantial savings. What’s mine is yours. We’re one household now, remember?”
She gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”
“Believe me, I understand,” he wryly responded. “It’s not as if we’ve had time to discuss any of this.”
Beath had insisted they marry before he returned to his country estate at the end of the week. He’d wanted the deed done quickly and quietly to avoid any scurrilous gossip. The fact thathewas one of the sources of the gossip didn’t seem to bother him. And while that was annoying, Samantha didn’t see any point in objecting to a hasty wedding. They might as well crack on with as little fuss as possible.
Of course, there’d beenquitea bit of fuss these last three days. Angus had insisted on a proper ceremony in the cathedral, Bathsheba had insisted on a new dress for Samantha, and Donella had insisted on a celebratory wedding dinner at Heriot Row. Samantha would have been happy with a quiet ceremony at a small church, but for Beath’s sake, appearances had to be maintained. In the end, they’d pulled it off to everyone’s satisfaction, even to Beath’s exacting standards.
When the old curmudgeon had finally departed Heriot Row this evening, Samantha had all but collapsed with relief. By then, her stupid head was roaring because the accumulated stresses had caught up with her, producing a thundering headache. She hadn’t put up a peep of resistance when Braden took one look at her face and bundled her and Felicity back home.
“I’m sorry everything’s been such a mad dash,” she said, gratefully taking a seat in front of the blazing fire. “It must feel very odd to you.”
“You don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. Just rest and take these powders. Then we can chat for a few minutes before it’s off to bed for you.”
“It’s not much of a wedding night, is it? What a terrible cliché—that I’ve come down with a headache.”
“Samantha, we already discussed this,” he firmly said. “It’s fine. Do you have some water, or should I ring for Mrs. Johnson?”
She pointed to her dressing room. “There’s a pitcher in there.”
He disappeared for a minute, then came back with a glass of water and handed it to her.
Samantha raised it to her nose and sniffed. “There are no laudanum powders in this mix, are there?”
He frowned. “Of course not. I know you don’t like the stuff, and I try not to use it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
She mentally winced. He must think her a complete ninny.
“Bottoms up, Samantha,” he gently admonished. “And make sure you finish it.”
“Dr. Kendrick, are you going to be a bossy husband?”
“Only when it comes to taking care of you.”
She rolled her eyes then swallowed it in one go. The potion had a tart, medicinal taste, but wasn’t too awful.
“Thank you.” She handed the glass back to him.
He exchanged it for one of the wineglasses he’d brought in with him. “Here’s a little sherry to get rid of the taste and help you sleep.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
“It’s now my job, Samantha. To take care of you and Felicity.”
She sighed. “Our marriage rather sounds like a one-way bargain. What are you getting out of this arrangement?”
“You.” He subsided into the other chair, stretching his long legs toward the fire. “That is ample compensation, sweetheart, I assure you.”
