Secrets Of The Marriage Bed

Robins shot her an I-told-you-so look.

‘I will finish the rest when my hair is done.’ What she really wanted to know was if he truly intended to travel with her today, but she didn’t want to risk seeming overanxious.

‘Good.’ He nodded his approbation.

The moment he left, Robins brought the tray from the bedside table to the dressing table. ‘Please, Your Grace, finish your breakfast. It will not take me a minute to help you with your bonnet and pelisse, but who knows when you may have a chance to eat next?’ She sounded almost desperate.

Ashamed of her unkindness when the woman was trying to help, Julia downed the chocolate and finished the rest of her toast, slathered with butter.

Robins immediately sprang into action with bonnet, pelisse, gloves, and finally held out a shawl.

‘Do I really need a shawl?’ Julia questioned. ‘It is June, after all.’

‘There is a cool wind today, Your Grace. If you find you do not require it in the carriage, you may of course put it to one side, but shawls are de rigueur at the moment, you know.’

Julia swallowed a sigh. ‘Very well. It seems I am ready. I will see you at Sackfield Hall.’ Even if Alistair changed his mind about joining her, it seemed she had decided not to invite Robins’s company for the rest of the journey.

The woman dipped a curtsy as she passed out of the door. ‘I will come to you as soon as they have fetched in your trunk, Your Grace.’

On her way downstairs, a surge of dizziness took Julia by surprise. Oh, dear, it seemed Robins had been right about her needing sustenance. Hopefully it would pass in a moment or two, now she had eaten.

The carriage was waiting outside the front door, Thor was tied to the back. Her heart gave a little hop of joy. All at once the prospect of the journey became a whole lot more pleasant.

She glanced around for Alistair. He was in deep conversation with Mr Lewis, beside the coach carrying the luggage and the servants. Mr Lewis glanced her way, a frown on his face, then nodded at something Alistair said to him.

Were they talking about her? Why?

One of the footmen opened the door and let down the steps. ‘Thank you, Matthew,’ she said as he handed her in. ‘Mrs Robins is waiting with my trunk.’

‘I’ll go up right away, Your Grace.’ He touched his forelock and strode around the corner, where the servants’ stairs were located. Such a nice young man. Intelligent, too. He knew exactly what to do.

So Alistair really was going to travel with her in the coach. Desire fluttered low in her belly at the thought of several hours in her husband’s company. She settled herself in one corner and folded her hands in her lap, trying to look as if her heart wasn’t ready to leap from her chest and to keep her smile on the inside. A man as reserved as her husband would not appreciate a wife behaving like a besotted schoolgirl.

While she waited, her trunk arrived carried easily on Matthew’s shoulder accompanied by a stream of instructions from Mrs Robins as if she suspected the young man of either preparing to toss his burden to the ground, or to open it and rifle through its contents.

Julia grinned to herself as she realised Matthew had developed a case of bad hearing and was marching along as if she was no more than an irritating fly.

The coach dipped on it springs as Alistair entered. He removed his hat, set it on the seat in front of her and sat down at her side. ‘What on earth made you hire such a fussy woman?’ he asked once the footman had closed the door. ‘If I was Matthew, she’d be throttled by now.’

Julia pressed her lips together. She had no wish to get Mr. Lewis into trouble with his employer. ‘I will have a word with her when we reach Sackfield.’

He made a non-committal sound. ‘I hope we can make good time today.’

The coach jerked and moved off, its wheels grinding on the cobbles. Her husband put an arm across her front, steadying her, and then they swung out on to the toll road where the ride smoothed out. He stretched his longs legs out as far as he was able and stared out at the passing countryside.

Should she speak? Would he prefer silence? She glanced sideways at him, to discover him doing the same thing. She laughed.

He grinned.

And the awkwardness dissipated.

‘Since I gather you did not bring the promised book, please tell me about Sackfield,’ she said, broaching a topic that had been at the back of her mind for several days. She had hesitated to ask Mr Lewis in case he wondered why she hadn’t sought the information from her husband. ‘What should I expect? A castle? Something huge with hundreds of servants?’

‘Quite the opposite,’ he said. ‘It is small compared to the other properties held by the Duchy. A manor house. It came to the family in recognition of our loyalty to the Stuarts. Though I rather think my ancestors walked a fine line between pragmatics and ideology.’

Her own family had been staunch Protestants in Cromwell’s era, but it was not until later that they had been raised up to nobility for services to the crown. ‘Your family’s gain was another’s loss, I presume?’

‘In some respects. My ancestor was a political being. He married the daughter of the ousted baron to his eldest son, thus eliminating future friction.’

Another arranged marriage. ‘I wonder how they felt about it. The couple, I mean.’

He turned his face to look at her, his grey eyes speculative. ‘You sound sorry for them.’

Did she? Did he see it as a criticism of their circumstances? Certainly out of the two of them, her lot had improved dramatically, while his... She still wasn’t at all sure why he had offered marriage. Out of pity, she assumed, since their marriage was clearly pro forma. She certainly wasn’t going to spoil what seemed to be a growing rapprochement in their relationship by reminding him of his coldness. She might have made some mistakes in her life, but she was not a complete fool.