I spent a good part of yesterday trying to come to an understanding of this household, only one of five houses Lucius owns. He works very long hours in his study, and I hesitate to interrupt him except for matters of the greatest importance, so it is a bit of a puzzle.

I shall write again after breakfasting tomorrow. Please do let me know by return post how you are both going on. I miss you.

Much love,

Your sister, Mrs. Felton (I couldn’t resist)

October 2Bramble Hill

PRIVATE

Dear Annabel,

I am writing you this note privately because I feel that you are likely bursting with questions—none of which I intend to answer! Marriage is a very interesting state of affairs; I will tell you that.

Lucius is the sort of man who always knows precisely the most civilized response to any situation. I assure you that I shall soon be the most well mannered person in Christendom, simply by watching his example. He works far harder than Papa ever did; I shouldn’t see him from morning to night if I didn’t go to his study with occasional questions.It has occurred to me that perhaps it would be good for Lucius if life were a bit more surprising. But this is, obviously, a matter for the future.

With love,

Tess

October 4Bramble Hill

Dear Annabel and Josie,

I can imagine the two of you reading this together, probably curled up on Annabel’s bed. I have named my parrot Chloe, although why I gave her such a refined name, I don’t know. She does seem to have a liking to me, which she exhibits by pecking at my hair and squawking very loudly when I enter a room. The housekeeper, Mrs. Gabthorne, has taken a dislike to her. There was an unfortunate episode with a cup of tea, and I fear that Mrs. Gabthorne will never get over the shock of it.

I have to say that while one would think it would be much easier to run a large house with the help of many servants, I am finding it quite a task. Mrs. Gabthorne is feuding with the head housemaid, Dapper. According to Mrs. Gabthorne, Dapper has an eye for one of the footmen who is at least five years her junior, and Mrs. Gabthorne worries (very righteously, you understand) that Dapper will attempt to corrupt the youth. Meanwhile Dapper tells me that Mrs. Gabthorne is “borrowing” tea and taking it to her sisters in the village. And how am I to ascertain the truth of that, pray? Of course, I daren’t mention the footman to Dapper, either. In all, I find it more work to manage an establishment with servants than it was to manage a quite similar-sized house without servants.The arrival of Lady Griselda’s modiste is, indeed, a wonderful occurrence, and I naturally understand why you would rather remain at our guardian’s house for the moment. I am not certain why you say that the scandal of Imogen’s marriage is greatly lessened, however; in what manner and by what means? Do give Imogen a kiss from me when you see her this evening. I was so happy to have her note and hear that she and Lord Maitland are happily settled at Maitland House.

Love,

Tess

October 7Bramble Hill

Dear Annabel and Josie,

This will be a very short note as I must dress for dinner. I have moved our evening meal forward as Lucius leaves for the city tonight. He plans to work during the day and return here the following evening, again traveling by night. I cannot feel this frantic motion is healthful. And of course, this means that he will not be able to join us for the races at Silchester tomorrow, but I shall see you there, Annabel.

I am utterly flummoxed to hear that my husband apparently saved Imogen from a Gretna Green marriage. He has mentioned nothing. One would think that marrying a man would give one insight into his character, but I seem to find Lucius more puzzling day by day. I am eager to hear all the details from Imogen when I see her at the races.Josie, I shall miss you, but I do agree with Miss Flecknoe that dancing lessons are of great importance in a young lady’s life. Annabel and Imogen will give you all my news from Silchester, and there will be many such races in the future.

My love to everyone,

Tess

Chapter 31

A half hour or so before their evening meal would be served Tess knocked on the connecting door that led to her husband’s chambers. She wasn’t sure of the etiquette of marriage: did one knock on one’s husband’s door? For some reason, it felt odd. Yet at the same time, if he were occupied in personal ablutions…she heard the deep sound of Lucius’s voice saying something to his valet, and then his unhurried steps to the door.

“Good evening, my dear,” he said.The sight of him gave Tess the most peculiar sensation. He stood there with a look of inquiry on his face, and her knees grew weak, and the only thing she could think about was kissing him. She had the sudden sensation that her corset was too tight; she couldn’t breathe properly. This reaction should have become familiar to her by now, but instead it seemed to grow stronger every moment.

The worst of it was that Lucius was clearly not similarly affected by her presence. He was unremittingly polite when they encountered each other in the breakfast room, at supper, or in a corridor. On those rare occasions that she ventured into his study, he never failed to offer his advice when it came to a knotty household problem. But he showed no wish to dally, or gaze in her eyes, or indulge in any manner of newlywed behavior.

This afternoon, for instance, when she entered his study to ask him a question about the diamond bracelet that suddenly appeared on her pillow, she had taken no more than a glance at the Empire-backed crimson settee in his study before a remarkably inflaming image appeared in her mind. But when she perched on his armchair and tried her best to entice him into neglecting his affairs—if only briefly—she had no success.

He moved away from her kisses and politely but firmly told her that he had work to do. She insisted on giving him a thank-you kiss; he insisted that she leave his study after the merest buss on her cheek. She gathered all her courage and melted against his chest, raising her face to his; he stepped backward so quickly that she almost toppled to the floor, after which he bowed her from the room.

It was only after Gussie had bathed and dressed her for night that Lucius would transform from friendly acquaintance to husband. And then, indeed, his eyes had a wicked shine, and he showed passionate interest in his wife.

Yet to all appearances, she was the only one who seemed afflicted during the day by thoughts of the evenings—and nights—they spent together.

For example, here he was, exquisitely dressed in a coat of somber blue, and all she could think of was the previous night and the way he nuzzled her stomach. And lower. She could feel her cheeks flaming.

“Tess,” Lucius said. “Is there some way that I can aid you?”

“I am having some difficulty deciding which gown to wear tonight,” Tess said, pulling herself together. “I am faced with a greater selection than I have had in my entire life. Do you think that I should wear this velvet gown, or that of sarsanet?” She indicated the two gowns placed on her bed.

He strolled over, and said, “Did I order that black velvet?”

“No, you did not,” she said, nettled. “If my memory is correct, I ordered all the gowns in question. You merely lent me the benefit of your advice.”

“You’re not in full mourning,” he said. “Wear the green. The black is a bit drab, don’t you think?”

“No, the black is extremely elegant,” Tess said, feeling a surge of stubbornness. Why didn’t he ever show any signs of wishing to make love to her other than after twilight? Was he on a schedule of some sort?