He cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. Turning, he lifted the candle again and held it aloft before them. “Shall we?”
No discussion about her tears. No opportunity for an apology. From his body language and expression, it was clear he had closed the door on that event. It was as if that moment between them hadn’t ever happened. He continued down the hall, and she followed without thought.
But she held the feeling in her heart, the feeling of comfort and understanding. The blessed feeling of someone mourning with her.
Her exhausted heart warmed behind its barricade, experiencing the barest measure of relief from pain.
Chapter Fourteen
Lucas didn’t expect to see Virginia at breakfast, given the late hours from the night before and the emotional weight she had carried. Still, when he finished his meal and coffee, he was disappointed he hadn’t seen her. How had she fared after they parted in the hall before Phillip’s door? Phillip had been asleep, thankfully.
He’d stood in the doorway, watching as Virginia entered the appropriated guest room. She’d carried the candle with her, putting it on the bedside table. The soft glow had perfectly illuminated her profile when she bent to place a kiss upon her sleeping child’s forehead.
Remembering the sight, his lungs constricted as they had in the moment. Watching her graceful movements, seeing the purity of a mother’s love, had done something to him he couldn’t explain. In conjunction with the tenderness he’d felt for her, holding her as she wept, Lucas’s heart was undergoing a change he didn’t know it was ready to experience.
The breakfast table was hardly a place to examine such thoughts, especially with an empty plate before him and footmen standing by to take away the trays.
Lucas left the table and made for his study, determined to get some work done. His man of business in London had been keeping him abreast of parliamentary concerns and he had letters from the stewards of his other properties to go over. He ought to go through his schedule, too, and see about meeting with Virginia to discuss the barony’s needs.
He settled at his desk and opened the first letter he meant to answer, some discussion of collecting new taxes to aid in the effort against Napoleon. He hoped to share his thoughts with a member of his party still present in London. At least it sounded as though the American annoyance had been dealt with and they only waited to hear back from that country’s assembled politicians.
After an hour spent penning letters, Lucas sat back in his chair and flexed his hand. He had a secretary in town, but perhaps it was time he find one in Annesbury to assist him with his correspondence and business.
He went to the window overlooking the front of the estate. The day was clearer than the day before, though a few clouds dotted the sky. He hoped it would prove warmer, too, for the crops. Perhaps he ought to use the day to visit the farmers on his land?
Virginia still hadn’t met any of their tenants.
With that stray thought, he was plunged back into the memory of the night before, of holding her in his arms.
Going to the nursery the night previous, his intention had been to help, to make right what he had done wrong, and to set Phillip at ease. The boy’s eyes had been enormous when he pleaded for Lucas to check on his brother. Virginia’s obvious relief when Edward capitulated and took his medicine had given Lucas leave to feel he accomplished his goal.
He’d also successfully ignored the fact that his wife had been wearing only a dressing gown over her night clothes, and that her long golden hair reached to the middle of her back in its braid. As a perfect gentleman, he’d offered to escort her back to the family wing.
And then, in the darkened hall, she’d fallen apart.
He well knew the feeling. He’d had no motive other than to offer comfort when he put his arms around her. None at all.
But in the ensuing moments, through the dark hours of the night, and now in the brightness of day, Lucas knew it would be a lie to say he remained unaffected by Virginia. Her tenderness in caring for her children, her ability to remain strong when her heart was obviously suffering, and her quick mind were impressive.
He could hardly call himself a man if he pretended he hadn’t noticed her beauty. The memory of holding her returned but details he hadn’t permitted himself to notice in the moment came back. The way she fit against him, her more delicate structure leaning into his to find strength, called forth his instinct to protect her even more than before.
Lucas closed his eyes and groaned. Being attracted to his wife presented him with something of a problem. She still had months of mourning her late husband before her.
He had promised she could have the time she needed.
It would be the very worst sort of thing for him to act on any of his thoughts or feelings at this point.
But—he still ought to give her the courtesy and respect due his wife.
Part of that would be involving her in the care of their shared properties.
And the day was very fine.
Visiting the tenants would be the perfect way to show his appreciation for her place in his life, and it would be an excellent opportunity to come to know each other better. After all, they ought to be friends. At the very least.
Nodding to himself, Lucas ignored the rest of the work on his desk and went in search of his countess. It was noon. Perhaps they could take the midday meal together before venturing out of doors? He wondered if she would prefer to ride a horse or in a gig.
After walking through the ground floor and seeing no sign of her, he went up to the first floor. He started down the hall when he heard music.
Did Virginia play the pianoforte?
He walked in the direction of the music room, listening to the gentle melody being played. The door to the room was ajar and when he looked inside he saw Virginia seated, her left hand in her lap and her right lightly pressing the keys. Her eyes were closed.
Should he interrupt her? Or wait?
She began to play faster, her fingers using more strength to press each key, and then her left hand lifted to join in the dance. Her eyes stayed closed, but her hands moved more rapidly, drawing the music up into a daring crescendo. His breath came quicker in anticipation of the grand sounds that must follow, ready for the song to take him as a fast-flowing river might carry him away.
But the music abruptly stopped and she turned, her eyes flying open, to face him in the doorway.
They stared at each other and Lucas realized her normally fair cheeks were completely pink.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, his voice echoing strangely in a room now empty of music.
She shook her head and stood. “It’s quite all right. I should be going about my business anyway.” Virginia closed the instrument and approached him, her hands folded before her. Today she wore a dress more black than gray, with a white fichu at her throat and gray threads embroidering the bodice.
He was grateful for the reminder of her state of mourning. Perhaps it would help him keep a level head.
“Would you like to come with me this afternoon to meet the tenants?” Blurting his invitation hadn’t been his intention. It seemed the theory of keeping a level head was out.
Virginia paused, several steps from him, and considered him. Her eyes didn’t look very tired. He hoped that meant she’d slept late and not that she’d avoided breakfast with him.
“That would be lovely,” she said at last. “I’ve been thinking that I ought to start my work outside the house. Everything here runs so smoothly, I hardly feel necessary.” The smallest of smiles curved her lips upward.
“Surely not.” He nearly took a step forward but it would be the wiser course of action to maintain distance. “This is your home. I hope you are running things as you see fit.”
Her eyebrows arched upward and she stepped closer. “I meant it as a compliment, Lucas. You have a remarkable staff. As we said, an army. But I am coming to learn their ways and they are expert at learning mine. Perhaps you a
nd I ought to talk about a few thoughts I’ve had. I would not want to make any changes without your leave.”
Lucas tried to sound nonchalant. “I am not overparticular in how my household is run. As long as there are few troubles between servants and my meals are on time, I am satisfied.”
Virginia chuckled. Had he said something to amuse her? “That is the way of it with men. Keep them fed and unburdened by domestic concerns and they will be happy.” She came all the way to the door and his new awareness of her heightened his senses.
She smelled like oranges again today. It must be her perfume. And her eyes no longer held the wounded look he’d seen in them the night before.
“We cannot all be so easily understood,” he argued, tucking his hands behind his back. He stepped aside, giving her room to exit if she wished it. As Virginia walked by him and into the hall, he saw her look at him askance.
“Perhaps not in every aspect of personality. But it is the duty of a wife to determine such things about her husband. When would you like to make your visits?”
The change back to the original topic saved him from making anymore foolish remarks. “After luncheon? Would you prefer to ride or should I have the phaeton prepared?”
She didn’t even stop to think. “The phaeton, if you please.”
“Very well.” He gave her a courteous bow. She smiled and made her curtsy, but as she turned to walk away, Lucas thought of one more question, one more thing to keep her standing near him a moment longer. “What were you playing when I walked in? I was quite riveted.” Lucas suppressed a groan. Had he sounded inane?
Her cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. “Nothing. Something Charles used to play. That’s all.”
Lucas’s heart fell. “Oh. Did he compose music?”
Virginia shook her head. “Just the one piece, for his music instructor when he was younger. I’m afraid it didn’t earn him any praise, but it’s an invigorating piece." She seemed hesitant to say more, pausing to bite her bottom lip. “I don’t want to forget it. I should like the boys to remember it. The piece is humorous, really. Thinking on yesterday reminded me of it.”
He had told her she could bring up Charles without fear. He knew how important her late husband would always be to her. What about yesterday would make her wish to play his music?
“How so?”
Her smile returned. “He called it Frogs in the Mud.” A sparkle of humor appeared in her eye before she turned and went down the hall, now humming the melody.
Lucas watched her retreating form, telling himself he was most certainly not admiring her figure.
At least she no longer seemed upset about the previous day’s adventure or ensuing argument.
And Virginia would accompany him on his visit to the tenants. Lucas returned to his study with a lighter step, looking forward to spending time with the Countess of Annesbury.
¤
Virginia entered the yard of a tenant cottage, looking about with an approving eye. There was a row of cottages, each with its gated yard for keeping in chickens and children. They were well-thatched, the stone walls looked sturdy and the shutters thrown open to let in air were brightly painted.
The Earl of Annesbury had given his tenants lovely houses. The row of four cottages were only some of his tenants. They had already been by another nearer the village and seen the pension cottages as well. There was only one servant in those cottages, an elderly cook who had retired five years before along with her husband, a stable-master at another estate.
All of the properties she had seen were in good repair. Lucas stood, just across the lane, speaking with two of the farmers who had come in from their work upon seeing the phaeton come down the lane. It was left to her, as it should be, to speak with the wives.
Virginia had always enjoyed her responsibilities as lady of an estate but coming to know the tenants hadn’t always been easy.
On Charles’s land, she hadn’t at first seen the need for her to acquaint herself with farmers’ wives. She knew better now. These women carried loads just as important and heavy as her own. She hadn’t really understood them until after Phillip was born.
Three farmers’ wives had come out to see what the fuss was about, one at her window, and it was here that Virginia stood next to the flower box, conversing with all of them.
“Mrs. Carter, what is that most delicious smell?” Virginia asked, breathing in deeply. “Is that rhubarb pie?”
Mrs. Carter, who could not have been older than twenty, nodded shyly at her window.
“Molly makes the best pie,” one of the other women, a Mrs. Baton, said warmly. “Her mum taught her, didn’t she, love?” Mrs. Baton was closer in age to forty, with a toddling child hanging onto her skirts. “And her mum always wins the contests with her rhubarb pastries.”
Mrs. Carter’s cheeks went pink and she nodded again.
The third woman, Mrs. Abbott, was closer to Virginia’s age. Two little boys had come from her cottage when she did, but they were standing at the phaeton, inspecting its shining wheels with wonder.
“We’ve seen you and your boys often in church, my lady,” Mrs. Abbott said, her warm voice drawing Virginia’s attention. “My boys are close in age to your own. Though I’ve a few above and beneath them, too. I thought it lovely when I heard of your marriage to the earl.”
“That is very kind of you to say, thank you.” Virginia gestured to her sons. “How old are they? And how many more children do you have?”
“A girl above them who just turned nine, and another in the churchyard. Those two are seven and five, and I’ve got a three-year-old daughter visitin’ my mum in the village, and another on the way.” She put a hand to her still-flat abdomen, her pride apparent in her wide smile. “Mrs. Carter is expectin’ too.”
Virginia’s eyes went to the shy young woman, whose whole face had turned red. She dropped her eyes.
“How wonderful, Mrs. Carter. Is this your first?”
Mrs. Carter nodded. “We’ve been married three years,” she said, nearly whisper-soft. “So, we’d sort of stopped expecting it to happen.”
“What a marvelous blessing.”
“It’s why she’s hiding behind her flower box,” Mrs. Baton said knowingly. “She’s starting to show.”
“I remember those days,” Virginia said, hoping to alleviate the young woman’s embarrassment. “It’s such a wonderful time. The sickness starts to subside and there is evidence of the coming joy. I was dreadfully shy of anyone seeing me, at least at first. But my husband was so proud, he wanted to take me about town every chance he could. Is Mr. Carter beside himself with joy?”
Mrs. Carter nodded. “He can’t seem to stop talkin’ about it, and I keep telling him he must reign in his pride or he’ll bust the buttons off his coat when he swells so much.” She lifted her chin and smiled. The other women chuckled and nodded, well-acquainted with the actions of proud new fathers.
“I wish you every happiness, Mrs. Carter, and if you will permit me, I would be honored to send you a basket when your time comes, full of things for your little one. And you too, Mrs. Abbott. Babies ought to be celebrated by the whole neighborhood.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Mrs. Carter said, her eyes wide and smile pleasant.
“That’s very kind of you, my lady,” Mrs. Abbott said with a little dip of a curtsy.
Mrs. Baton, perhaps not to be outdone, added her own curtsy and grateful words. “I hope we may soon be wishing you the same happiness, my lady.”
Virginia didn’t even blink, though inside she felt her heart constrict. “Thank you, Mrs. Baton.”
A crunch on the walk behind her made her turn. Lucas had come to collect her, his visit with the farmers at an end. They had gone back to work in the fields.
“Madams.” Lucas nodded when the women began dropping their curtsies. “I am afraid I must steal my wife away again.” They each murmured their acquiescence, then their farewells. Virginia waved and offered her compliments once more before t
urning to her husband.
Virginia did not miss the twinkle in his eye when he took her hand and brought it to his arm.
“Did your visit go well?” he asked just before handing her up into the phaeton.
“Very. You have two tenant families increasing, likely this fall.” She tucked her hands in her lap as he settled in the seat beside her. “And no complaints to be aware of, though Mrs. Baton has a second son she’s beginning to worry after. He needs a trade, it would seem.” And Virginia would much rather discuss an apprenticeship than the coming babies.
“Ah, Mr. Baton mentioned similar. It seems the boy hasn’t shown any interest in the local tradesmen. I said I would make inquiries. I think I’ve seen the lad before. He tends to hover around the horses.”
She tipped her head to the side and regarded him carefully. He spoke with absolute sincerity, his eyes ahead of him on the road. “You know your tenants’ children by sight?”
“And name, most of the time.” Lucas raised his eyebrows at her. “What sort of landlord would I be if I didn’t know them? Some will go on to inherit the tenant farms, after all. Others will serve in my household or become local tradesmen. They will be my neighbors as surely as the gentlemen whose estates border mine.”
“That is quite a progressive attitude, my lord,” she said, unable to hide her smile. “And one that I agree with. It does make sense. That was how we were—” She closed her mouth over the words pouring from her.
“You and Charles?” he asked, watching her from the corner of his eye. “Excellent. Then you won’t rebuke me for my familiarity with them.”
“Of course not,” she said, more quietly now. They rode in silence for a few moments, her mind going back over their time together. The night before, when he’d comforted her, allowed her to cry, without ever showing a sign of resentment for her dwelling on thoughts of Charles, was not what most new husbands would allow. Eventually, would he expect her to forget? She had not heard him speak much of his first wife. Had the years made it easier for him?
The Earl and His Lady: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 4) Page 12