Falling for His Practical Wife

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Falling for His Practical Wife Page 7

by Laura Martin


  She nodded, seemingly unaware of his momentary discomfort, and he hurried her up the stairs.

  ‘This will be your bedroom.’ Unceremoniously he opened the door and ushered her inside. It had been designed originally as a guest room, large and spacious with a lovely view over the gardens. There was a room more suited to the lady of the house, but it had an adjoining door to his room and he had thought it best they avoid any confusion and stay further apart.

  ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘Good. Glad you like it.’

  He turned to leave, but was stopped by Annabelle’s delicate hand restraining him.

  ‘Where is your bedroom?’

  ‘Just down the hall.’ There was no good reason for him to feel guilty about putting his wife in the guest bedroom, but he did all the same. He was sure she would understand, would appreciate the clear boundary between them, but still something made him feel as though he were doing something underhand.

  ‘I shall see you for dinner.’

  * * *

  Leo gave her a final tight smile and then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut Annabelle burst into tears. If someone had asked, she wouldn’t quite be able to put into words why she felt so lonely and abandoned, but she did.

  She couldn’t even flop down on the bed and bury her face in the soft pillows. Instead she stood shivering and waiting in a strange room in a strange house, left here by her husband of only a few hours who couldn’t wait to get away from her.

  ‘Don’t be weak,’ she murmured to herself. She’d known exactly what sort of marriage she was getting into. Taking a deep breath, she swiped the tears from her cheeks and reminded herself that she didn’t mind being alone, enjoyed it even.

  There was a quiet knock on the door and then one of the maids entered.

  ‘Kitty, isn’t it?’

  The young maid beamed at her from under a mop of beautiful ginger curls.

  ‘Yes, my lady. We’re just filling the bathtub, my lady. Would you care to come to the bathroom?’

  ‘You have a bathroom?’

  ‘Oh, yes, my lady. Mr Ashburton had it put in two years ago, I’ve never seen anything quite like it.’

  Kitty led her down the hallway to one of the many heavy wooden doors and opened it as if showing Annabelle into a holy chapel.

  It was impressive. Cool marble covered the floor and a stand that would hold a basin of water was just inside the door. At the other end of the room was a full-length mirror, and then the bath hidden behind a moveable screen. There was steam coming from the bath as the servants brought in big pails of water.

  ‘Mrs Barnes had thought you might want to bathe before dinner, so she was already heating the water up.’

  Kitty helped her undress behind the screen and then Annabelle stepped into the bath and gasped at the heat of the water.

  ‘Is it too hot, my lady?’

  ‘Not at all. It’s lovely.’ Slowly she sat down, marvelling at how the warmth of the water turned her white skin pink. Already she could feel her core warming up and she sank down so everything but her head was submerged.

  ‘Would you like me to help you wash now or would you like a few minutes to yourself first?’

  ‘Could you come back in ten minutes, Kitty?’

  ‘Of course, my lady.’

  The door shut and Annabelle was alone. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander, to become enveloped by the heat. She felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. For the past four weeks, almost ever since agreeing to marry Leo, she had barely slept, pacing her room at night wondering if she’d made the right decision.

  ‘No turning back now,’ she muttered to herself. Perhaps she would sleep better now there was no option of changing her mind.

  As the water enveloped her Annabelle felt herself begin to drift off into a doze, floating in that magical state half between being awake and asleep. The time must have flown by because before she knew it the door was opening again and there were faint footsteps approaching the bath.

  ‘What the...?’

  Annabelle’s eyes shot open as she heard Leo’s voice and saw him standing at the edge of the screen. For a moment she was too shocked to do anything, but then it hit her that she was lying in the bath completely naked, her dignity covered only by a few scant bubbles. Frantically she threw her hands across her body to cover herself, slipping down in the bath as she did so, her head dipping underwater and making her inhale a mouthful of bathwater.

  She surfaced, feeling the strong tug on her arms as her husband hauled her from under the water.

  ‘Thank you,’ she muttered, although she knew she would have been completely fine on her own. It was only a bath after all.

  Stiffly Leo turned around, shaking his wet arms.

  ‘I think there has been some confusion,’ he said. ‘Michaels said the bath was ready.’

  ‘Kitty showed me in here a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘I’m in your bathroom, aren’t I?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I can leave.’

  ‘No. Five Oaks has three bathrooms in total. I expect I have a hot bath waiting in one of those. Unless...’ He trailed off and for a moment Annabelle thought he was going to suggest getting in with her. She was surprised to find her first reaction was an illicit thrill rather than complete horror.

  ‘Unless?’ she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  ‘We are newlyweds. Perhaps the servants misinterpreted our request for a bath as one bath rather than two.’

  Annabelle was glad Leo’s back was still towards her so he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see the mortification as she realised he would never be the one to suggest a shared bath.

  ‘That might be it. I’m very happy to get out and let you have the bath.’ She stood, the water splashing over the sides in her haste and splattering on the back of Leo’s trousers.

  ‘No need. You enjoy it. I’ll find Michaels and see what has happened.’

  Without another word he strode from the bathroom, using one of the doors at the far end of the room. Annabelle had assumed the two facing doors at the far end were cupboards, but it seemed one led straight into Leo’s bedroom.

  As the air cooled her skin she sank back into the bath, only to hear the door open again.

  ‘Only me,’ Kitty called out brightly. ‘I’ve got clean towels and I’m here to help you with your hair whenever you’re ready.’

  ‘Where do those doors lead, Kitty?’ Annabelle pointed at the two doors at the far end of the room.

  ‘The one on the right goes to the master’s bedroom and the one on the left to the mistr—’ She trailed off without finishing the word.

  ‘The mistress’s bedroom?’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Or known a house to have three rooms dedicated to bathing.’

  ‘Mr Ashburton did a lot of renovations when he took over the house, my lady. I understand bathrooms are what all the big houses have in London.’ Kitty spoke wistfully as if London were a magical place she could never imagine visiting.

  ‘It is a very modern concept.’ Perhaps all the big houses in London did have bathrooms, she wasn’t any better placed than Kitty to know.

  The mistress’s bedroom. The room adjoining Leo’s. Most certainly not the room she had been given.

  Silently she listened while Kitty chatted away as she lathered the soap into her hair and then helped her to wash it off. Even as she stepped out of the bath into the soft towel her eyes kept flicking to the door at the end of the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Dear Beth,

  Have you ever felt as if you’ve made a monumental mistake?

  ‘Mr Ashburton has sent word he isn’t feeling very well so
won’t be joining you for dinner,’ Mrs Barnes said with a sympathetic smile.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I expect he’ll be better in the morning and can show you around your new home then.’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’

  Annabelle sat at one end of the long dining table as the evening meal was brought to her. She knew it was delicious, but she barely tasted it, going through the motions of eating rather than actually enjoying it.

  After dinner she wandered through the downstairs rooms, lighting a candle as the light faded to illuminate the grand drawing room, a cosy library and Leo’s study. There were other rooms, but Annabelle felt the pull of the library and soon found herself perusing the shelves by candlelight.

  As she ran her fingers along the spines of the books she felt some of her melancholy slip away. She would stop waiting for Leo to be present, to be part of her life—he had already told her that wasn’t how their marriage would be. Instead she would build her own life here. Tomorrow she would ask Mrs Barnes to show her the house and introduce her properly to the servants and tonight she would choose a book and read until her eyes felt heavy tucked into her comfortable bed.

  After she had picked a book about Roman history she ascended the stairs and was about to go into her room when she heard a faint moan followed by a fit of coughing. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, listening intently and feeling bad for her unkind thoughts towards her husband. Perhaps he was really ill and not just wanting to avoid her.

  The coughs subsided, but there was another faint moan and Annabelle realised she wouldn’t be able to go to bed without checking everything was well with Leo. Quickly, not giving herself time to change her mind, she hurried along the hall, stopping outside Leo’s bedroom to listen. Sure enough a few seconds later there was another groan followed by a long coughing fit.

  Annabelle tapped quietly on the door and after hearing no answer deliberated for just a moment before pushing it open and peering inside.

  ‘Leo, are you unwell?’ she called, not yet stepping into the room.

  There was a groan in response and then her husband mumbled something incomprehensible from the bed.

  Pushing the door open a little wider, Annabelle entered the room, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. It was pitch black in here, the heavy curtains drawn across the windows blocking out the moonlight that had illuminated the hall.

  ‘Annabelle?’ Leo muttered as she approached the bed.

  ‘I heard you cry out.’

  In the candlelight he looked flushed and tousled, as if he had spent the last hour tussling with the bedclothes.

  Tentatively she reached out and felt his brow with her fingers, exclaiming as she felt how hot he was.

  ‘You’re burning up.’

  ‘It’s just a little chill.’

  She thought of how soaked he had been, how caked in mud. A little chill could turn dangerous.

  ‘Do you need anything?’

  ‘Water.’

  Looking round the room, she found the glass of water by his bedside and held it up to his lips, being careful not to spill any on him as he took a few sips.

  ‘I’ll be fine tomorrow.’ She could see his body shaking as he was overcome with shivers.

  She hesitated, wondering if she should stay or do anything more, but knew from experience that when you felt that ill you just preferred to be left alone.

  ‘Do you need the doctor?’

  ‘No. I’ll be fine in the morning. Just need to get rid of this fever.’

  ‘Would you like me to sit with you?’

  ‘No, get some rest. It’s been a long day.’

  Annabelle reached out for his hand where it was lying on top of the covers to the side of his body and laid hers over his for just a second.

  ‘I’ll come check on you in the morning.’

  He didn’t reply and she could see he had already drifted into an uneasy sleep.

  Annabelle watched him for a moment to ensure he seemed comfortable and then quietly left the room.

  * * *

  She had slept well. The bed was comfortable and all her fears and worries about the wedding had dissipated. Probably in a couple of days when the reality of her situation hit her she would struggle to sleep again, but for now she was just glad she was better rested.

  ‘Did you want your breakfast in bed, my lady, or in the dining room?’

  ‘Is Mr Ashburton up and about?’

  ‘No, I think he is still in bed.’

  ‘I will check on him first, then take my breakfast in here, thank you, Kitty.’ There was a little table and a chair positioned by the window with fabulous views out over the gardens. The light was pouring in through the window now Kitty had pulled back the curtains and Annabelle thought it looked like the perfect breakfast spot.

  Pulling on her dressing gown, she padded along the hallway to her husband’s bedroom. This time she didn’t hesitate to knock on the door, but there was no answer, not even a groan.

  Quietly Annabelle slipped into the room, her breath catching in her throat as she saw her husband’s dishevelled form in the bed. He was sleeping uneasily, tossing and turning from side to side, his arms throwing the covers from him one second and pulling them back across him the next.

  ‘Leo?’ Annabelle whispered, not daring to approach the bed at first. There was no answer. ‘Leo,’ she called a little louder.

  When he didn’t respond she made her way to the side of his bed and placed a hand on his brow. He was burning up, his skin hot to touch and flushed. The coolness of her hand must have soothed his warm skin as he settled a little under her touch.

  She watched his breathing, counting the rate and frowning as she realised it was much faster than it should be. She could hear a dry raspy sound at the back of his throat, but no coughs as there had been the night before.

  Decisively she crossed to the corner of the room and pulled the bell to summon one of the servants. Leo was a fit and healthy man, there was no reason he shouldn’t rally within the next twenty-four hours, but she could do a lot to help his body cope with the fever that had gripped it.

  Michaels, Leo’s valet, appeared and regarded his master with concern.

  ‘Mr Ashburton is still quite unwell today,’ Annabelle said quietly, drawing the valet away from the bed. ‘Could you ask the maids to bring up some cool water and a towel and a jug of water for him to drink when he awakes?’

  ‘Of course, my lady. Is there anything else you need?’

  ‘Not for now, thank you, Michaels. We may need the doctor later if he doesn’t settle, but we will see how he goes throughout the morning.’ The valet hurried off and Annabelle looked around the room, wondering if she was interfering too much.

  ‘Nonsense,’ she muttered to herself. Leo was unwell, he needed someone to ensure he was well cared for. She would do the same even if she were not his wife and the wedding ring on her finger gave her even more reason to be here.

  As quietly as she could, she lifted the heavy armchair from the corner of the room to the side of the bed so she could see if he woke and needed anything. A couple of minutes later Michaels re-entered, carrying a heavy bowl of water and followed by Kitty and another young maid carrying towels and a jug of drinking water and a glass.

  ‘Anything else you need, my lady?’

  ‘Could you bring my breakfast here in about half an hour, Kitty, and a book from the library, I don’t mind what, to read while Mr Ashburton is sleeping?’

  Michaels stayed as the two maids left, lingering near the door. ‘I can stay with him, my lady, if you would prefer.’

  ‘Thank you for the offer, Michaels, but I’m happy to sit with Mr Ashburton. I will ring if he needs anything.’

  The valet left and once again she was alone with her husband. Annabelle busied herself by setting up the bowl of cool water on the
little table next to the bed and the pile of towels just behind it. She took the first towel and dipped the corner in the water, squeezing out the excess before gently dabbing it on Leo’s brow. Just as he had settled when she had placed her cool hand on his forehead the night before, he sighed now at the relief from his burning skin with the cooling towel.

  She had just dipped the towel back into the water and squeezed it out for a second time when Leo’s eyes flicked open and focused on her for a moment. It seemed to cost him a lot of energy to even look at her and after a weak half-smile he settled back on to the pillows and drifted off into sleep again.

  Annabelle thought of the times she and Beth had been unwell. Beth had lain in bed for four weeks when she was ten, coughing and coughing until blood stained her delicate hanky. Annabelle, although only nine herself, had refused to leave her sister, crawling into bed beside her and holding her hand as the fever raged. Then when Annabelle was twelve she had fallen from a tree branch where she had been sitting and reading and broken her leg. The doctor had come and inspected it, declared there wasn’t much to be done and either she would walk again or she wouldn’t. For six long weeks she had to stay in bed and Beth had been her constant companion, making her laugh with titbits of gossips and reading to her to distract from the pain. It had been her sister who had helped her stand for the first time and who had clapped her hands in glee when she had taken her first faltering steps.

  As she dipped the towel in the bowl again and again, dabbing it gently on Leo’s forehead, she felt the lump form in her throat as she thought of her sister. She missed Beth so much it hurt physically, as if she had been stabbed in the heart. She wished Beth was here to tell her what to do, how to approach married life, how to make the best of things. Instead she was completely alone.

  She sat down, draping the towel over the side of the little table so it could be used again later, but as her bottom touched the seat Leo’s hand shot out and grabbed her. Annabelle stifled a shout, realising he was reaching for her in his sleep, and gently took hold of his hand, stroking it and murmuring soothing sounds under her breath.

 

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