by Cathy Duke
Amy stepped over the threshold of the dining room to find only Arden sitting at the table. He instantly stood as she entered and looked surprised and then his eyes took in her entire ensemble scanning her body from head to toe with something that seemed like hunger and then settled on her face. He looked at her with appreciation and something else she couldn't determine. His eyes seemed to grow darker than the usual green. A smile slowly grew as he nodded his appreciation at what he saw.
Amy looked around the room, but the table was set for two. They were alone. She looked at Arden in confusion.
“You look ravishing, Amy,” Arden said as he pulled out a chair to his right for her to sit. His brows drew together in a frown that showed concern. “Do I make you nervous, Amy?”
“I thought…I mean, where are Millie and Eva?” Amy asked as she sat and Arden adjusted her chair to the proper distance from the table.
“They are dining with Mademoiselle Le Meniere upstairs.” Arden nodded to the footman for wine to be poured and the dinner to begin being served to them. Arden had seated Amy to next to him instead at the other end of the long table as was customary. Arden picked up his wine and held it up for a toast.
“To my lovely wife. I am indeed a fortunate man.” He drank a sip and watched her as she studied him trying to determine his mood. His gaze was penetrating as if he could see into her very soul. “How are you feeling, my dear?”
“I am well…” And then she remembered last night and the headache this morning. She blushed as she thought of the book and the possibilities of what had transpired. The food was being served and she sat quietly looking at her food trying to think where this would go. The soup was in front of her, but she didn't pick up her spoon.
He still held his glass of wine and quirked one dark brow in question. His lips were forming a seductive smile. A knowing smile.
She waited for the footman to leave the room so that they were alone. “Is there something you want to say, Your Grace?” she bravely asked.
Arden chuckled in a deep timbre. “There's nothing wrong with curiosity. I myself studied that book when I was a boy.”
She quickly looked up and caught his eye, narrowing her own in suspicion. “You were a boy when…”
Arden slowly nodded his head. A slow knowing smile came next. “Perhaps we might experiment…”
Amy choked on her spoonful of soup and when she took a breath, she choked more. It had gone down the wrong way and she struggled to overcome the coughing fit.
Arden stood up and came behind her chair with efficient speed. She was red in the face not only from choking, but from trying to capture her breath. “Damn it, Amy,” he said as he quickly and adeptly unbuttoned her bodice to her gown in the back. The tiny buttons had always been cumbersome, but he seemed adept at efficiently getting them unbuttoned in a minimum amount of effort.
My goodness, thought Amy, he must have experience as a ladies maid. Arden unlaced her stays skillfully. “Why do you have this damn contraption laced so tight? A woman can't breathe in these unhealthy, miserable, confining gadgets. Did you know that you rearrange your God given organs by binding this item of torture too tight? How would you like your liver forced into your chest? Hmm? You don't need to lace this up so tight you can't breathe or better yet, don't wear one at all for that matter. Your figure is perfect. I'll shoot Mademoiselle Le Meniere.”
After unlacing the stays, he buttoned her gown back up and sat back down at the table. “I apologize if I upset you. But I find that the condition I found you in last night was…you were quite foxed, my dear.” Arden smiled as he caught a glance of Amy struggling with her composure.
It was not an everyday occurrence to have your bodice unbuttoned by a handsome man with his fingers working their magic as if he did this service a thousand times. Her mind was now somewhere else as she tried to get herself back from the exotic adventure. It was too much. Her experience last night was more than enough and now being undressed at the dinner table. She wanted to crawl under the table. For the love of God, she must get control over herself. He seemed to be teasing her and yet he was serious. He obviously felt strongly about the whale bone stays for goodness sake. She almost smiled in amusement, except for the embarrassment of it.
“Please, I don't want to speak of it. Besides I just swallowed the wrong way…it was not my…my stays,” Amy said softly looking down in embarrassment. Not only was she embarrassed about the book and her over indulgence in drinking spirits, but now he has just adjusted her corset. He had done it so skillfully…like he did it every day. Could things get any worse? Her face felt on fire. “I know men enjoy…ah, that is…I will do my duty, but I don't wish to be embarrassed.”
Arden stopped smiling. He thought about what she said for a moment. “So, you do not think you will enjoy our marital bed?” he asked. “A duty is all it is?”
“I don't need to enjoy it even if it were possible. As I said, I will do my duty.” She took another sip of her soup, confident she had made herself clear on this matter.
A sly smile again came with no effort and then he chuckled. Then the chuckle exploded into a deep rich sexy laugh that made her uncomfortable. “I am up to the challenge my dear.”
“Why do men always think they are being challenged, for goodness sake? I am just being realistic and honest. I don't expect anything…thus I won't be disappointed. It is as simple as that.”
“Ah. I am glad we cleared that up. But, sweetheart, it is not simple at all. I will enjoy showing you.” His amusement was difficult to contain. His eyes were bright with humor and tiny crinkles on both sides of his eyes were validation of his frequent expression of humor.
“Please. I don't wish to speak of this anymore.” Amy was in over her head. She was not used to sparing with a man. And Arden was a large confident man experienced in life and sparing it seems.
Arden then grew serious which was an effort on his part. He could not remember a time he was so entertained.
“What should we speak of? How are the wedding plans coming?” Arden asked, changing the subject. The soup was removed and the next dish of pheasant with rich cream sauce was set in front of them. Amy waited for the help to leave again before picking up their conversation.
“Mrs. Tanner has arranged a breakfast celebration here after the ceremony. There will be Millie and the Duke of Somerset…and of course, Eva. Some neighbors and people from the village, of course…and the servants here at Brightmore. It is a small celebration.”
Arden was watching her. She was talking, but not concentrating on what she was saying. It was as if someone else was talking and she was a character in a play watching it all unfold. When she would glance at him, he was watching her too intently, reading more into what was being said. It annoyed her. She was overcome with thoughts of last night and what he must think of her. She just wanted to crawl under a rock. That's what she had coming for being so wicked. She stopped talking for a moment and there was an awkward silence. He had stopped eating and was just looking at her.
She tried to read his mood and couldn't. “Stop playing games with me. Stop making me your amusement…like I'm some ridiculous clown for your enjoyment.” She surprised herself with the outburst so unlike her. But she stood her ground. She was rattled. Heavens…her corset felt too tight and she was breathing like she just ran a long distance.
Arden quirked a brow at her and smiled seductively. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable, Amy. And you are right. I was quite amused.”
“Don't apologize if you don't mean it,” she snapped back and caused him to set his fork down and look at her closely.
“You are making sport of me…” Although she was angry now, tears were threatening to appear, and she nervously wiped her eyes with her napkin trying to stop the dam from bursting. Why couldn't she get control over her emotions?
Arden didn't have a great deal of experience with young sensitive women. His preferences had been more mature widows. Women who were confident and polished. Bu
t they were also pretentious and flirts too. He decided he liked Amy better, but wasn't sure how to proceed. She had an honesty about her. He had apologized, after all. Evidentially it wasn't enough. He stood up and bent over to her and kissed her cheek softly. “I am truly sorry I have offended you, sweeting.” He sat back down and picked up his fork. He was sincere. He put his heart into the simple apology.
That was more than she expected. Why did he have to be so reasonable and nice? Amy burst into tears, the dam broke. It was too much. He was too nice. Finally having the sincere apology was enough to break her veneer.
Arden pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it from him and blotted her noise and eyes. “Let us talk of something else entirely…something that won't create…”
“Perhaps you would like to accompany me to talk to some of the tenants tomorrow. Have cook prepare some baskets for some of the tenants. I like to take them some fruit, or cheese, sometimes meat too. But you can decide.”
Such a simple gesture on his part. But it lit up her face with such excitement that Arden felt guilty for keeping her excluded from his tasks. She took such joy in other people's pleasures after all. She looked at him as if he were a God, for pity's sake. He enjoyed having the ability to create such happiness for her. So why did he take such delight in taunting her? And he did…that book was an example. He should leave it by her bedside…there it was again. He couldn't help himself. He sometimes acted like he was twelve. What was it about her? The teasing was just a natural reaction he experienced when he was around her.
But his thoughts were interrupted. “I would love to go with you, Arden. It will be such a great adventure for me.” She nearly bubbled over with this small offer.
For God's sake, he suddenly felt like the worse curd. He should be courting her to gain her favor, not hauling her around on his errands. He should give her flowers and jewelry like any other self-respecting gentleman. But she was happy over the simplest of things, and a man was fortunate to have a woman not only willing to help and be with him, but she also didn't seem to be interested in jewelry as her favorite thing to have.
Chapter 8
Brightmore Manor 1830
Amy woke early the next morning and dressed in her most practical gown. She brushed her hair and had Daisy style it simply for her day with Arden. She would take her big straw hat to shade her eyes. She raced downstairs eager to talk to cook about the baskets for the tenants. They put together baskets with preserves, apples, cheese, sausage and some of cook's muffins and scones.
Arden was waiting for her in the front drive as a footman loaded the baskets. He looked stunning in his black boots and tight beige slacks hugging his thick muscular thighs. His hair was neatly combed, although a rebellious lock of hair hung on his forehead giving him a rakish appearance.
“Good morning, Amy.” His eyes scanned her entire body from head to toe, causing an appreciative grin to light his face. “You look lovely this morning, my dear,” he said as he lifted her into the carriage taking his time holding her waist. After setting her on her seat carefully, he spread a heavy wool blanket over her lap as he sat across from her. He was still grinning at her and reminded her of a little boy with uncontrolled glee. It was impossible not to be influenced by his pleasure.
“Where are we going first, Arden? I am so excited to meet your tenants.”
He smiled warmly at her. “They are “our” tenants…and we are going to see Elizabeth Summers first. She just had her fourth child and it was a difficult birth. After having a labor lasting more than ten hours her oldest son came for me. The baby needed turning…it was what they call breach. They thought they were going to lose her and the child,” he said as they set out for the first farm. “She was exhausted and had just given up.”
“I have heard of that. Papa talked to me a little about that problem. She is well now?”
Arden nodded. “Of course, I walk on water, now…” He laughed a deep husky laugh that was contagious. “They can use the basket since Elizabeth is still weak.”
“Do the children help her?” Amy asked.
“The two older boys help with the milking and plowing the fields. The little girl might be of some use to Elizabeth in the house. She is old enough, I think.”
“Do these children go to school? I should think reading and writing would be important for their survival too…,” Amy offered tentatively.
“Whenever I broach opening a school for all the village and farm children, I find controversy within their own ranks. Many of the women want it for their children, to better their lives. Most of the men do not support it because they need the children's help with the chores, and farm work and see no benefit in educating their children.”
“Perhaps a few days a week for a few hours..?”
“To gather all the children would take as much time as there is to teach them, unfortunately. Believe me, I have tried to come up with a solution.”
“I see you have given this some serious thought.” Arden nodded his head in agreement. “How sad life is that a child works at such a young age with no better opportunity in sight,” she added.
“I have spoken to Parliament on that subject…about children who follow their fathers into the mines to work at as young as seven…are some of the worse, but the privileged don't always care about the poor and their troubles. It is an uphill battle, I am afraid.” Arden gave a sigh to show his frustrations on the subject. “I still bring it up again and again in hopes that they will grow weary of my nagging and sign my bill into law. One can only try.”
“Do you attend Parliament often?”
“Only when something interests me. Like, health issues…such as our water systems, children that are working too young…things that are hard for me to let go.” Amy nodded her approval.
“That is good of you to care enough to go and speak out, Arden. Of course it would be good if more people did so.”
Amy watched the green hills and beautiful scenery out the window and they both fell silent. It felt good to talk to Arden and learn of his thoughts, his passions and how he deals with them. She had the same concerns and having that in common made her feel content that this choice for a husband was right. Her father had good insight, she thought. Yes, it was good to have these things in common.
Arden watched the many expressions change on Amy's face as she looked out of the window watching the landscape pass by. He knew her mind had not left their conversation and that she still was processing the information, trying to find a solution. He found himself smiling that his wife was interested in poverty, education and the age of the child work force. Most of the women of the ton were only interested in the weather, fashion and gossip. He grew tired of these shallow women with no concern but of themselves. Amy was refreshing. They in fact were interested in the same things including his medicine practice.
The carriage slowed. Amy looked out the window and saw a small farm house with a thatched roof and a red door. Stone walls separated the property from the rest of the landscape. The carriage rolled in some ruts that jarred them until they stopped.
The footman jumped down and opened the door and Arden jumped down and turned to assist Amy. He lifted her around the waist and set her down gently on the ground. Arden asked the footman to get one of the baskets out and handed it to Amy to present to the family. She put the basket on her arm admiring the property for the love it showed in upkeep.
Elizabeth Summers and her daughter were at the door to greet them. Elizabeth was a large woman in her middle years with light brown hair which was graying at her temples. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the nap of her neck. Elizabeth had a face that declared her life. Hard work, and little relaxation. Survival was always the focus of each thing she accomplished in her life and the years were hard on her. She was carrying her baby as she smiled at Amy and Arden in greeting. Her smile was full of warmth, because even though her life was not easy, she still had a moment of kindness to share. Her daug
hter was about seven or eight with dark blonde hair tied in braids on either side of her freckled face. She was well cared for, her braids neatly braided, her freckled face clean and shiny.
“Good morning Elizabeth. I hope you are well…” Arden cheerfully said as he and Amy approached her. “May I present my wife, the Duchess of Brightmore.” Elizabeth curtseyed and smiled. “Amy, this is Elizabeth Summers and her daughter, Jenny.” Jenny curtseyed watching her mother for approval. Her mother patted her head with encouragement.
“I am pleased to meet you,” Amy said as she smiled at both mother and daughter. Amy handed the basket to Arden with her eyes on the baby. “May I hold your baby?” Amy asked tentatively reaching for the infant.
“Of course, Your Grace,” responded Elizabeth as she placed her child proudly in Amy's arms. Amy smiled down at the small child and rocked her gently back and forth. “She's a real good baby. Hardly cries at all,” Elizabeth added proudly. Then she looked embarrassed. “Oh, please do come in and I will fix you both some tea.” She opened her door and everyone went inside.