“Did any have all three qualities?” Jane asked with interest.
“Indeed,” Ophelia replied. “For instance, Harry Cragg would likely be perfect for you, Jane. He’s not only an avid horseman, he also breeds racers on his estate in Kent. I know how disappointed you were when your parents wouldn’t let you ride anymore after you took that one tumble and broke your arm. To be honest, I think Harry was only interested in me because he found out I enjoy riding. That man will expect his wife, when he gets one, to ride with him every day, I don’t doubt.”
“She’s right,” Edith agreed. “The one time I spoke with Harry, he only wanted to talk about horses. Quite boring for me, but don’t you remember me telling you, Jane, that you would have been fascinated?”
“He’s quite handsome too, isn’t he?” Jane said, beginning to look more than just a little interested. “At least I think so.”
“A little too outdoorsy for my tastes,” Edith replied with a grin. “Course I am a bluestocking.”
“Yes, we know you’d rather have your nose in a book than go to a party,” Jane teased.
“Come to think of it, Edith, you should probably give Lord Paisley a little attention,” Ophelia remarked. “Can’t remember his first name, but he was boasting about a personal library of over three thousand books. Said he had to add on to his estate just to make more room for them.”
“Are you joking?” Edith asked wide-eyed.
“Not a’tall. I got the impression that he’d travel halfway across the world if he heard of a book he wanted in some foreign country.”
“And he’s quite pale enough to suit you, m’dear,” Jane chuckled.
“You know, Pheli,” Edith began spontaneously without thought, “I never would have—oh, I’m sorry, that just slipped out.”
“It’s all right,” Ophelia assured her. “That old nickname doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“It doesn’t?” Jane said with a thoughtful frown. “You’ve changed, Ophelia, really changed. Truthfully, I’ve never felt this—this—”
“Relaxed,” Edith finished for her. “Yes, I’ve felt it too. And at the risk of being thrown out, I have to say I love the change in you. Who would have ever thought you’d make an effort to help us figure out who the best choices might be for us, like a real…”
Edith didn’t finish, but she was blushing profusely. The unspoken friend hovered between them. The same embarrassment overtook Ophelia. Rafe had really called it on the nose. The old bitterness had made her far too self-centered and had kept her from ever getting close to these two. They had always reacted to her reactions. Come to think of it, when she wasn’t reacting to something, which had been rarely, they were both nice girls and fun to be around.
God, what she’d missed in life, alienating friends so they wouldn’t hurt her, when doing that had actually hurt her the most.
Chapter Forty-five
“Y OUR HUSBAND IS HERE TO see you,” Sadie announced at the door.
The two girls had joined Ophelia on the bed, and sitting cross-legged, they’d worked out a nice list of possible husbands for both girls. The camaraderie was warm among them, the laughter spontaneous. It had been a long time since Ophelia had enjoyed herself so much.
But with Sadie’s announcement, all three girls were thinking that the word husband had a nice ring to it, well, at least two of them were. The reminder that husband didn’t exactly mean what it should mean for Ophelia abruptly made her mood plummet. But she tried to put a good face on it as her friends rushed off, neither of them wanting to intrude on her first days of married life.
She took her time dressing, even though Sadie tried to hurry her. Rafe could wait, in her opinion. He could wait all day. He deserved to be kept waiting. God, how easily the anger returned, and she couldn’t seem to help it.
“It’s a good thing your mother went back to bed,” Sadie said as she pushed Ophelia out the door. “I heard she was on the warpath this morning, over this turn of events.”
“What nonsense,” Ophelia scoffed, pausing at the top of the stairs. “My mother never goes on the warpath.”
“She did this time, and your father even backed down, if you can believe it. Jerome was eavesdropping at the door. He swears it’s true.”
Ophelia didn’t believe it. That footman was known to embellish his tales to make them more interesting. But she wasn’t going to argue about it because Rafe was waiting for her in the parlor. She didn’t doubt he was there to collect her. Married, they were expected to live in the same house whether they wanted to or not. She’d make him apologize first for rudely running off on her last night.
She paused in the doorway to the parlor. She was armed for battle, wearing one of her many powder blue gowns that enhanced the color of her eyes, her coiffure in perfect order. Her “husband” stood at the window that looked out on the street. There wasn’t much to see out there. But he looked deep in thought, and she doubted he’d heard her arrive.
He did. Without even turning he said, “Kept an hour waiting. Were you hoping I’d get fed up and leave?”
“Not a’tall,” she purred. “I was merely hoping you’d get fed up.”
He turned about to catch the smirking smile she shot his way as she crossed to a sofa. There were four to choose from, all identical and comfortably upholstered in silk brocade, the colors predominately gold with assorted earth tones that went well with the solid-brown chairs scattered about the rest of the room. The sofas were positioned around a low table that held a few knick-knacks and one of her mother’s flower arrangements, but was mainly used for tea trays.
She spread her skirts wide so Rafe wouldn’t even think about sitting next to her. He came over to join her and sat on the edge of her skirt! She gritted her teeth as she yanked the material out from under his thigh. He didn’t even seem to notice as he turned to face her, resting one arm on the back of the sofa. Perhaps he wasn’t being deliberately rude, but she was as she moved farther away from him.
He did notice that and said, “Be still.”
“Go to the devil.”
He started to reach for her but changed his mind and sighed. “Can we at least have a normal conversation for a few minutes?”
“I doubt it. A few minutes is too long for me to be cordial to you.”
Her anger was seething. Every single word out of her mouth seemed to make it worse, as if it were feeding upon itself. And she had no other outlet for this anger, it would just continue to grow and fester. The one other outlet he’d introduced her to was no longer an option. She wasn’t about to use him to get rid of anger he was responsible for.
“I’ve come up with an ideal solution for us.”
He tossed that out as if it were a gold nugget, expecting her to pounce on it and put aside the sarcasm and rancor for the moment. It didn’t work.
“I wasn’t aware we needed a solution, but I suppose you might think so.” The only thing that came to mind was an annulment, but she wasn’t going to let him escape that easily. She was ready with her arguments before she said, “An annulment isn’t an option.”
“I agree,” he surprised her by saying. “We’ve already had our wedding night, albeit a bit early.”
If he thought he could embarrass her by mentioning their lovemaking, it didn’t work. In fact, it just reminded her how gullible she’d been, how she’d believed all his lies, how she’d really thought he’d wanted to help her when all along she’d just been a source of amusement for him and Duncan. That he had helped her was completely irrelevant when his motives had been purely self-serving.
“I’ve decided to buy a house. There’s one for sale not too far from here, so you’ll be able to easily visit your parents whenever you like.”
“What’s wrong with your house?”
“Nothing. My house is perfect—for me. I’m sure you won’t be surprised if I want to keep it that way. What I’m talking about is a house just for you.”
That was not what she had assumed she’d be hearing, b
ut she managed a tight smile for him. “You actually expect me to wreck your house, don’t you?”
“The thought did occur to me. You are an unpredictable woman, Phelia, probably the most unpredictable one I’ve ever met. I’d as soon not take the chance with a home I’m fond of.”
“So your brilliant idea is that we won’t just be having separate bedrooms, we’ll have separate houses? And what if I don’t like that idea?”
“I’m not doing this to please you, m’dear. For all I care, you can stay right here. But that will eventually cause you some embarrassment that might whiplash on my family. But keep in mind that you forced this situation on us when I could have extricated us easily enough.”
“I forced nothing! You brought this on yourself when you decided to place wagers on my life!”
He ignored her heated tone and shrugged. “Be that as it may, you will accept what I’m offering. Or perhaps you haven’t realized yet that the decisions are now mine to make?”
He sounded entirely too smug in saying that. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
He stood up, wearing that same angry countenance he’d worn in Summers Glade when he’d given her that verbal setdown. “Don’t push me, Ophelia. You’ve done quite enough of that already. I can and will put a leash on you if I have to. I’d rather not assume that much control over your every action—again—but I will if you get out of hand.”
He left her with that warning and the clear indication that he’d deposit her back at Alder’s Nest, alone this time, and she’d be just as much a prisoner there as she’d been before. That was what he’d implied when he’d stressed the word again. But she wasn’t going to let him get away with this, and she knew just how to make sure he couldn’t.
Chapter Forty-six
“T HIS IS A BAD IDEA,” Sadie grumbled as she tucked the lap robe more tightly about her lap and continued to stare worriedly out the coach window.
“This is a wonderful idea,” Ophelia disagreed.
“You don’t just barge in on people like this, and especially not these people.”
“He may be a duke,” Ophelia said with a shrug, “but he’s also my father-in-law. Do you really think he won’t give me a warm welcome?”
“That’s hardly the point. What if he’s already heard that you’re estranged from his son?”
“No one knows that yet. Rafe doesn’t even know that yet. He thinks keeping us apart is his idea.”
“You should be moving into that house that he bought you, instead of barging in on his family.”
Ophelia sighed. Sadie was in top form today as grumbles went. Ophelia was nervous enough as it was about meeting the duke for the first time. Her maid was just making that worse.
“One, I don’t barge,” Ophelia said. “Two, I have no intention of occupying that house he bought.”
“But he bought it just for you.”
“Yes, and I’m delighted that he wasted the money. I intend to waste even more of his money when we get back to London. I’m going to go on an extravagant shopping spree and have all of the bills sent to him.”
“Denting a man’s purse when you aren’t on good terms with that man is an even worse idea than hieing off to Norford Hall,” Sadie warned.
“Everything is a bad idea to you these days.”
“Because you’ve reverted to the old you. I was just getting used to the new you, and—”
“That’s not true and you know it,” Ophelia cut in, her tone a little hurt. “I’ve only regressed where he’s concerned.”
Sadie sighed now and admitted, “That’s true. I’m sorry. I just had such high hopes for your marriage, some peace for you away from your father finally, some love from a good man, having babies I could adore…are you sure you’re not enceinte?”
Ophelia wasn’t sure at all, but she said, “Yes, quite, but have the driver pull over, I think I’m going to be sick again.”
“You are enceinte, aren’t you?”
“I’m not, really, and never mind, we don’t need to stop. It’s passed. It’s just all this anger that keeps churning in my gut, and this bouncy ride isn’t helping.”
“It’s all right if you are, you know. You’re married.”
“I am not having a baby!”
“Fine. But being angry never made you sick to your stomach before.”
“I’ve never been this angry before.”
Sadie offered a few more grumbles, but Ophelia stopped listening. She wasn’t sure what she was going to accomplish with this visit. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. She didn’t want to cause a rift between Rafe and his family. But the threat he’d hung over her head worried her. She’d like at least someone on his side to look favorably on her and be there to talk reason into Rafe if he really did try to curtail her freedom and stick her somewhere like Alder’s Nest again—alone this time.
It only took a good portion of a day to reach Norford Hall. It was definitely the largest estate Ophelia had ever seen, aside from the royal palace. The size wasn’t just intimidating, it was disheartening to have it made so clear that a duke lived there. A real duke. You couldn’t get much higher up the proverbial ladder outside of the royal family.
Sadie was even more intimidated as they stepped out of the coach and she stared at the mansion with her mouth hanging open. She only had one final thing to say, and she said it in a whisper: “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Ophelia didn’t answer. Liveried footmen were showing up en masse, to usher them inside, to take care of the coach, to unload their trunks. She had dressed rather grandly for the occasion, which was probably why she was being given admittance without having to identify herself or what she was doing there.
Of course she changed her mind about that when she came up against the solid wall of the Norford Hall butler. He wasn’t going to let her go any farther without finding out who she was. But Sadie was at her best when dealing with the servant class, wasn’t the least bit in awe of servants higher up the ladder than she was, and circumvented any extensive questioning by getting right to the point.
“We’ll need two rooms,” Sadie told the butler. “One of them quite large, so don’t even think about giving my lady a mere guest room for her stay here. She’s your lord’s new daughter-in-law come to meet her husband’s family. And considering how big this place is, I’ll take a room near hers, thank you.”
That easily they were whisked upstairs. If that butler worked for her, Ophelia would have insisted he get a little more proof than a maid’s high manner, but perhaps they were more relaxed out here in the country. And the room she was shown to was so large, a good four times the size of her bedroom at home, she felt positively dwarfed by it. The furnishings were exquisite though, in jade and gold mostly, expensive. But she was used to expensive things, so she wasn’t hesitant to use what was there. However, it was no wonder Norford Hall spread out so widely like a city block, with rooms this size.
After being on the road most of the day, she should have rested up, at least until dinner, but she was too nervous even to consider it. If she could get her first meeting with the duke out of the way, then she could relax—if it went well—and maybe even enjoy her stay. So she did no more than change out of her traveling clothes and into her least wrinkled day dress and went back downstairs to “meet” her new family.
Chapter Forty-seven
I T WAS EASY TO GET lost in Norford Hall, Ophelia found as she wandered around on the lower floor, trying to get her bearings. There wasn’t just one main hall with rooms off it, there were quite a few. She finally gave up trying to figure out where the main rooms were and requested an audience with the duke. That at least was easy enough to do since there were footmen everywhere it seemed. She’d already discovered that there was more than one parlor. She was shown to what they referred to as the blue room and hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long.
The blue parlor, so named because the walls, the floors, the windows, were all covered in pale shades of that color,
wasn’t empty. A middle-aged woman was lying down on one of the sofas. She actually appeared to be napping there, one arm draped over her eyes to block out the light streaming in through a long bank of windows. But at the sound of footsteps she sat up immediately, took one look at Ophelia, and scowled.
“Who are you? Never mind. This won’t do a’tall. Do go away before my son comes downstairs.”
Not a normal greeting by any means, Ophelia didn’t know whether to laugh or get annoyed. Rafe’s mother? She could have sworn she’d heard that his mother had died long ago. Then who? She was a striking woman, with blond hair and blue eyes, and she bore a definite resemblance to Rafe. But she was so gruff and bossy, her manner could almost be called masculine.
“I beg your pardon?” Ophelia said.
“My son, Rupert, is too impressed with beautiful women,” the woman took a moment to explain. “You are too bloody pretty. He’ll be slobbering at your feet if he claps eyes on you. You must go.”
Ophelia chose to ignore those remarks entirely and made an effort to start afresh. “Might you be one of my husband’s many aunts? I’m Ophelia.”
“Don’t care who you are, gel, you need to make yourself scarce and quickly—oh, never mind. We’ll leave. We can visit my brother another time.”
She stood up to do just that, but then made a low growl in her throat because she was too late. The young man under discussion, her son, sauntered casually into the room. His eyes went immediately to Ophelia, which stopped him in his tracks. He stared, hard. Nothing she wasn’t used to, but he wasn’t rendered speechless as most were.
“My God,” he said. “My God, when did angels come down to earth?”
With black hair with flyaway curls and pale blue eyes, he was incredibly handsome, but in an effeminate way. His skin was too smooth, his nose too thin. He wore lace at his cuffs, an excessive amount in his cravat, and a bright lime green satin waistcoat. She was surprised he wasn’t wearing dandyish knee breeches. He definitely had a girlish air about him, which was almost funny, because his mother seemed rather mannish.
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