Falling for His Practical Wife

by Laura Martin

  ‘Thank you, Michaels.’

  He felt Annabelle’s and Michaels’s wary eyes on him and wondered if he was behaving strangely. In truth, he felt numb, dazed, as if he were in a half-sleep, stumbling through the world.

  ‘Let’s get you back to the inn,’ Annabelle said, her hand on his arm, guiding him.

  ‘Yes. Good idea.’

  They walked in silence, Michaels hurrying ahead to start readying the carriage and Leo silently gave thanks that he had decided to bring the carriage on their trip and not just rely on the horses they rode. It would mean they could set off straight away and not worry about stopping as much.

  As they hurried along the beach he felt some of the initial panic leave him. In truth, he had been preparing for this moment for a long time. Lord Abbingdon had first handed over the reins of running everything from the estate accounts to dealing with the tenants’ issues seven years earlier and, as time passed, Lord Abbingdon’s input had become less and less as the old man’s body had started to fail him.

  They were just walking back along the short promenade to the inn when Leo was hit by another memory. Hidden and suppressed for so long, but so painful that it almost made him cry out as he remembered it.

  ‘Leo?’ Annabelle was looking at him with concern. He must have made a sound after all.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said, not wanting to share the memory. It was just too painful. The news of another death, all those years ago. He and Josh already in pieces with the news of their mother’s death just a few days earlier, petrified when their kindly housekeeper had drawn them to her and whispered that she was so sorry, but their father had gone to join their mother in heaven.

  He felt his heart rip anew in his chest, felt the pain of the loss all over again. It was so raw, so real, that he struggled to breathe.

  ‘Sit,’ Annabelle commanded, pushing him to a bench. He took great gasping gulps of air, his head spinning.

  ‘Slow down, just breathe normally.’ Her voice was calm and instructive and he couldn’t help but obey,

  ‘That’s it, nice and slow. In and out.’ Her hand made circles on his back, rubbing round in one direction, then the other. The memory of finding out both his parents had died had taken him by surprise, suppressed for so long in his subconscious. It made him remember the pain of the loss, the horror of mourning, of feeling as if he would never be whole again.

  ‘I’m not whole,’ he murmured.

  ‘Pardon?’

  He just shook his head, closing his eyes as some of the panic and crushing emotion receded.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said stiffly when he had recovered enough to speak.

  ‘Please don’t apologise. You’ve just had a shock.’

  He couldn’t bring himself to explain that it wasn’t Lord Abbingdon’s death that was affecting him, that his pain and panic were resurfacing from years earlier, over two decades ago. It sounded ridiculous, he was a grown man, not a little child missing his mother and father.

  ‘We should go.’

  He stood up, offering Annabelle his arm out of habit, not noticing the worried look on her face as together they started back to the inn.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dear Beth,

  I wish I knew how to support Leo better. He’s been so quiet and withdrawn since the news of his great-uncle’s death.

  Annabelle had never been so happy to see a house as she was to set eyes upon Five Oaks as they swept up the drive. The journey had been exhausting even though all they had done was sit in the carriage for days on end. Sensing her husband’s agitation over how long the return trip was taking, she had urged him to make the stops shorter and even push through the night last night. She had dozed in the carriage, waking up with a stiff neck and cramp in her legs and felt as though she had been walking for days on end rather than sitting doing nothing.

  Leo had been oddly quiet and she felt as though they had lost much of the closeness they’d shared on honeymoon. It made her feel so sad and fearful for the future, but she kept telling herself that it was just circumstantial. Once he had sorted the practicalities and started to mourn his great-uncle then surely there was no reason for them not to return to the happiness they had found in the last few weeks.

  He jumped down before the carriage had even rolled to a stop, striding inside and letting a footman hurry forward and help her down from the carriage. Mrs Barnes was waiting at the threshold to welcome her with a friendly smile and to usher her into the drawing room.

  ‘I thought you might have travelled through the night,’ she said, leading Annabelle to a chair by the window. ‘I’ve told Kitty to make a cup of tea and I’ll organise some toast and jam. You must be exhausted. Will you want to go straight to bed after some food?’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind a bath,’ Annabelle said, touching her hair and face. Everything felt heavy from the toils of travelling and she wanted to wash any grime away before climbing between the sheets of her bed.

  ‘Very good. We will set to heating the water and I’ll send Kitty in when it is ready.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Annabelle sat back and closed her eyes when Mrs Barnes left the room, thankful the housekeeper was so friendly and organised. She was almost dozing off when she heard Leo’s voice in the hall, although couldn’t quite make out the words. For a moment she deliberated, wondering whether to go and join him, to see whether he was a little more settled now he was home, but before she had even got out of her seat she heard the front door being opened and footsteps on the drive. In surprise she looked out of the window and saw Leo already mounting his horse and riding off without a backward glance.

  Something shrivelled inside Annabelle. She had been afraid it would be this way anyway—even before their early recall due to Lord Abbingdon’s death Annabelle had been worried about how their newfound closeness might suffer when they were back in a familiar environment. She knew it was easier for Leo to let go of any preconceptions of what their relationship should be when it was just the two of them in their own little world. Now real life was beckoning again, and her husband had just ridden off without even thinking of telling her where he was going or when he might return.

  ‘Here’s your tea and jam, my lady,’ Kitty said as she came into the room with a smile.

  ‘Thank you, Kitty.’ Annabelle swallowed, wondering if it was too embarrassing to ask the maid if she knew where Leo had gone. ‘I don’t suppose you know where Mr Ashburton is heading?’

  ‘Sorry, my lady, I don’t. Michaels will probably know if you’d like me to ask him?’

  ‘Will you send him in here?’

  ‘Of course.’ Kitty bobbed and hurried out the door, and a moment later Michaels entered.

  ‘Kitty said you wanted to see me.’

  ‘Mr Ashburton left in a hurry. I wondered if you know where he was going?’

  ‘He wanted to head straight to Willow House, to make the arrangements for Lord Abbingdon’s funeral and make a start on sorting through the documents needed for the next few weeks.’

  ‘Did he give any indication when he might return?’

  ‘He said he wasn’t sure. He has a change of clothes and all his essentials at Willow House, seeing as he stays there so frequently, so he doesn’t need to come back before nightfall, but past that I don’t know.’

  ‘Thank you, Michaels. You must be exhausted, too, after the journey. Please feel free to rest this afternoon.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, my lady.’

  When she was alone again Annabelle closed her eyes and tried not to let the maudlin thoughts overcome her. Leo was entitled to be shaken by the news of Lord Abbingdon’s death. He had told her he was not close to the man, but he had spent much of the past decade by his side, running one of the wealthiest estates in England. Even if they did not share confidences and closeness Lord Abbingdon had still been a big part of Leo�
��s life. None of it had to mean he had changed his mind about her, about their relationship. She had to give him space to mourn, to put his thoughts in order. Had to ensure she was there, quietly supportive, but not pushy or overwhelming.

  ‘Don’t fade into the background,’ she murmured to herself, knowing she was all too good at that. Stepping back, being unobtrusive. It would be easy, but it wouldn’t get her the life she wanted.

  No, she would make sure Leo remembered the strength they could draw for one another, how they were better together.

  * * *

  Leo buried his head in his hands and let out a low groan of frustration. He was exhausted. After travelling for four days solidly with barely any stops his body had been ready to do something more active, but instead he had ridden straight to Willow House and now he’d been sat at this desk for almost five hours straight.

  Even though he had been running the estates for the last few years there was a lot to get in order. Two solicitors had been waiting for him on his return and, before he had sat down with them to discuss Lord Abbingdon’s will and the practicalities of the inheritance, he’d had to send word to the relevant parties to arrange a funeral. Lord Abbingdon had been dead for just over a week so the funeral was a pressing matter, especially in the summer heat. Luckily Mrs Westcott had anticipated what needed to be done and had all but arranged the practicalities of the funeral to happen the next day, but he had to confirm the details.

  Now he was finally alone, sitting with his eyes drooping and a deep desire to collapse into bed.

  For the first time since their return to Kent he thought of his wife. He’d left Five Oaks without even saying goodbye or letting her know how long he’d be gone. Leo knew he’d been distant on the journey home as well. It was unfair on Annabelle, but he’d been unable to force himself to act any differently.

  His great-uncle’s death had shaken him more than he cared to admit. The old man had been cantankerous and rude, but he was still family, still had been part of Leo’s life for a long time. Leo had worked hard for him, taking on more and more responsibility, but the old man had recognised it and even though he had never voiced his thanks he had made sure Leo had a comfortable home and a good income.

  At first Leo had thought he wasn’t mourning his great-uncle, that they weren’t close enough for that, but as the days ticked by he realised he felt a sorrow at the old man’s passing. It made him realise that he hadn’t shut himself off from emotion as much as he had thought.

  That worried him. Lord Abbingdon had been old and infirm. He’d lived a good life, longer than most of his peers, and his mind had remained active even when his body was failing. It was not a shock that he had passed away and in many ways Leo had been preparing for this moment for at least two years, ever since Lord Abbingdon had stopped getting out of bed, but he felt off centre and wrong-footed all the same. It had made all the awful memories of his parents’ deaths and Emily’s death come crashing back and he was worried how he would cope if he lost someone he actually cared a lot for if this was how he felt when a man he respected, but didn’t much like, passed away.

  He couldn’t deny it any longer, Annabelle was creeping into his heart. Soon she would take up residence there and the desire and regard he felt for her would merge into love. He didn’t want to love her; he didn’t want to love anyone. Lord Abbingdon’s death had just served to remind him that life was fragile and could be cut short at any time. He would protect himself better if he shielded his heart from Annabelle.

  ‘Too late,’ he murmured, shaking his head. It might well be too late and it would be cruel to Annabelle, too, to change so suddenly. He needed to be sure, needed to decide exactly what he wanted from his wife.

  He knew if he returned home she would draw him into her arms and he would push all these doubts from his mind. That might make him happy in the short term, but he would only be postponing the inevitable. He needed to make a decision and that would be impossible with Annabelle there drawing him to her.

  With pen in hand he started jotting down some notes, deciding on his plan, writing it down to solidify it in his mind. Tomorrow would be the funeral. He would send word for Annabelle to attend. There he would inform her he needed to travel to London to sort out his great-uncle’s affairs. He would take a week, perhaps two, to think through his predicament, before returning to Kent, hopefully knowing what he wanted from his wife once and for all.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dear Beth,

  I wish you were here to take my hand and tell me everything will work out in the end.

  Annabelle straightened the veil over her face, feeling as if all eyes were on her. It had been a while since she had worn one, her confidence soaring during the trip to Dorset, but the thought of standing by Leo’s side with everyone at the funeral staring at her had made her feel sick and so she’d donned a veil, but now she felt like a coward.

  It wasn’t a bad turn out to the funeral, especially as it had been arranged at the very last minute. As well as the staff from Willow House there were a number of people from the local village. Leo had murmured that he wasn’t sure if they actually knew his uncle or had just come out of respect for the old Viscount, but it was good to see the church half-full even for a man who hadn’t left his bed for years.

  After the short service Annabelle stayed by Leo’s side as he thanked the mourners for coming, murmuring her own thanks and trying to fade into the background. She felt inconsequential, insignificant and was fast realising the idea of being a partner to Leo was nothing more than an illusion. Her presence by his side did not make his day any easier. She didn’t have the social skills to guide away anyone asking difficult questions or adding to her husband’s burden. On a couple of occasions she suspected he forgot she was actually there.

  Once the other mourners had left Annabelle excused herself for a moment, retreating round the side of the church and leaning her head against the smooth stone. She closed her eyes, forcing her thoughts to slow down. All she needed to do was be supportive. Doubting whether she was making a difference wouldn’t do any good.

  ‘Annabelle?’ Leo sounded concerned as he came up behind her.

  She turned round too quickly, scraping her arms against the wall and tearing the material of her dress. Silently she cursed, but tried not to react outwardly, even though the scratch of the wall on her skin smarted and she wondered if she had grazed it.

  ‘Are you unwell?’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. I just needed a moment. The heat...’ She gestured vaguely to the sky, hoping he would think she had been overcome by the unrelenting high temperatures rather than the realisation there was a gulf between them that she was doubting she could ever cross.

  ‘Come sit in the shade for a moment.’ He led her over to a low wall in the shade of the church and Annabelle sat.

  ‘How are you?’ she asked, peering up at her husband. He had looked blank most of the day, hardly acknowledging her presence, hardly acknowledging much at all.

  ‘I’m fine. At least I will be once today is over. I hate funerals.’

  Annabelle doubted many people enjoyed them, but for Leo she was sure it would dredge up the memories of the funerals of his parents.

  ‘Are they always so quiet?’

  Leo frowned at her. ‘You have been to a funeral before?’

  Shaking her head, Annabelle looked down at her hands.

  ‘No.’

  ‘But your father...?’

  The memory was painful and she felt the tears that she had been holding back all day threaten to spill on to her cheeks.

  ‘Died when I was fifteen. I can remember Beth lacing me into this mourning dress that was far too small for me, but there wasn’t anything else appropriate and no money for any new dresses.’ She paused and shook her head, suddenly angry at her mother even though so many years had passed. ‘I came downstairs and my mother told me in no uncertain
terms I wouldn’t be going to the funeral. She sent me back upstairs.’

  ‘She wouldn’t let you attend your own father’s funeral?’

  ‘No. She said everyone would stare at me, that it was for my own good, that I had been shut away and kept a secret for too long to just appear in the church now.’

  ‘That’s cruel. Not letting you say goodbye to your father.’

  ‘Beth pleaded with her for me, but she wouldn’t be moved. She said she would arrange for me to visit the church after dark if I so wished, but that I wasn’t going with them for the actual funeral.’

  ‘Your mother was cruel.’

  Annabelle let out an involuntary laugh. ‘The longer I am away from her the more I realise how extreme and selfish she was. I know much of what she did was out of a desire to protect me from the taunts she thought would come my way, but I feel as though I’ve missed out on so much in my life.’

  ‘There would have been better ways to protect you. She taught you your scars are something to be ashamed of, to hide away. A mother should teach you to walk with confidence, to hold your head high and realise your beauty inside and out.’

  For the first time in days she caught a glimpse of the Leo she had come to know on their honeymoon and she wondered if maybe there was a way back to that. He was allowed to be shaken by his great-uncle’s death. Leo had hardly any relatives and even though the late Lord Abbingdon hadn’t been warm or loving towards him, it didn’t mean he hadn’t grown attached to the older man. Added to that were his new responsibilities that came with the land he had inherited and the title. Perhaps as things settled they, too, could return to what they had before.

  ‘What now?’ Annabelle asked.

  Grimacing, Leo patted her hand. ‘I need to go to London. There are some things I need to sort out. It shouldn’t be for more than a couple of weeks.’ He didn’t look at her as he spoke and she had the sense he wasn’t being entirely honest with her.