A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3)

Home > Romance > A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3) > Page 7
A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3) Page 7

by Rebecca Connolly


  Her husband.

  She barely recalled a word of the service, as she had been too aware of the man next to her and of the task before her to hear a word. It was a lucky thing she had been able to recite the proper words at the appropriate time, and that Malcolm had been able to do the same. He had seemed rather distracted, as well. The last three weeks had given her ample time to become more acquainted with him, and the more she knew, the less she felt she truly knew about him.

  Her husband was a complicated man, and every time she saw him, it seemed he was a different version of himself. She was never quite certain how he felt about her, as he would be warm on one occasion and formal the next. He would give her his slight sort-of smile, or he would not smile at all. He had never been as warm as he had that first day they had met, but she thought that version might be hiding underneath all the other layers of him.

  She had seen how he loved his children, though he was not demonstrative or affectionate with them, and how pleased he had been that they had seemed to get along with her. The path to her husband’s heart was undoubtedly through his children and how they fared with her in their lives. He had made it perfectly clear that she was not their mother, and while she understood the situation and a little of what he must be feeling, she could not pretend it did not pain her to have the words spoken aloud.

  She sighed a little to herself as she watched her husband across the room. He mingled easily enough with the guests, though he hardly seemed to fit the part of a groom. He seemed so distant, his mind wandering…

  Why had he married her if he chose to take so little pleasure in it?

  “Elizabeth, you shouldn’t frown so on your wedding day,” her mother scolded in her soft way. “It’s bad luck.”

  Beth nearly rolled her eyes at that, wishing her mother would not bring any sort of luck, good or bad, into her marriage conversation. She was concerned enough as it was.

  She glanced over at her mother, who had come rather simply dressed in the same pale blue gown and spencer jacket she had worn for Ben’s marriage two years ago, and it had been faded then. A small smile was fixed on her mother’s face, but it was all for show. Neither of her parents had smiled much, seeming to forget that this was supposed to be a celebration for their youngest child.

  Her father had dressed as he did for business but seemed more concerned about the state of his moustache than anything else. Her mother, at least, looked the part. Her silvery curls were pinned up nicely, though she stared at the finery in the room with wide eyes and the barest hint of disapproval in her features. It was absolutely ridiculous, but her parents seemed to take no pleasure in Beth’s newfound wealth, though their family had certainly had greater income in the past.

  “You must also get used to keeping your expression clear at all times,” her mother went on, running her gloved finger along the pristine table linens. “You have children now; they will need to see their mother composed and smiling.”

  “I am not their mother,” Beth reminded her in a low voice, pointedly keeping any bite out of her tone.

  Her mother looked at her disapprovingly. “You may not have borne the children, Elizabeth, but you are the only mother those little ones will know. You do not have to be their mother to be a mother.” She covered Beth’s hand with her own and squeezed gently. “Remember that when it gets hard.”

  “You think it will?” she asked, glancing towards her husband, who had not looked her way in some time.

  “I know it will.” There was a soft grunt of disapproval as her mother shook her head firmly. “Your husband does not love you, Elizabeth.”

  Beth stiffened and slid her hand out from her mother’s grasp, looking rather sternly at her. “Marriages are not just about love, Mother. Monty and I… We have an understanding.”

  “Yes, but you should have known better,” her mother insisted, frowning more severely than Beth had seen her in some time. “If we wanted to sell you off like property, we could have done so.”

  “Too right,” her father added in gruffly. “Let it never be said that Thomas Owens let his children marry for less than love!”

  Her mother made a tsking noise that made Beth wish fiercely that Michael had stayed with them at the table instead of being congenial. She could have used him to retort properly.

  “I should never have allowed this,” her mother moaned weakly. “Really, Elizabeth, what were you thinking?”

  Beth ground her teeth together and closed her eyes. “We were thinking about the children.”

  “All well and good,” her mother huffed, “but who is thinking about you?”

  “I believe that task is mine now.”

  Beth almost wept in relief at the sound of Malcolm’s voice and turned to look up at him as his hand came to rest on her shoulder.

  He smiled coolly at her parents. “I hope you won’t mind, Mr. Owens, Mrs. Owens, but I have several people asking to be formally introduced to Lady Montgomery, and I am anxious to give them the pleasure.”

  The pressure at Beth’s shoulder increased, and she smiled up at him as she rose. She gave her parents no chance at all to comment, not that they would have argued with an earl. Even they were not that foolish.

  Malcolm placed his hand on the middle of her back and steered her away, staying protectively close. “I know you said there were no creatures of sense in your family, Beth, but good Lord…”

  She winced a little, leaning closer. “They don’t mean any harm. They’re just exhausted by life. Ten children, you know. And I’ve never had any prospects, so there is no reason for them to presume…”

  “You’re barely twenty-four,” he scolded gently, giving her a stern look. “That’s hardly a spinster.”

  Beth smirked a little and gave a half shrug. “I’m no flower in her first bloom, either. It makes no difference, truly. I am married now, and they cannot argue with that.”

  His jaw tightened visibly. “I can if they criticize our marriage.”

  “They wouldn’t dare,” she promised, taking his free hand as they slowly walked the room. “It is only the sudden nature of the match and the newness of it. They are so intimidated by you that they will never say anything else about it after today. And they will never ask you for anything.”

  Malcolm grunted once. “That is a point to their credit, I suppose.”

  Beth squeezed the hand she held. “Think kindly of them. They do love me, despite what you saw.”

  He sighed and looked at her again, his expression more open than it had been all day. “I believe they love you. I only wish they loved you better.”

  Be still her newly married heart! That was the most perfect thing anyone had ever said to her. If he wanted to keep her from falling in love with him, he would do well to avoid saying anything of that sort again.

  “How are the children?” she asked through a bit of a tight throat. “Did they enjoy the wedding? It must have been so long to them; Samuel and Greer couldn’t have been easy for Mrs. Franklin.”

  “Beth,” he chuckled mirthlessly, “you do not need to concern yourself with the children, today of all days. They are perfectly fine, they’ve been allowed some cake, and are quite pleased with it. Jane was delighted to have been one of your attendants, Archer was bored out of his mind, and Mrs. Franklin said that Samuel and Greer were perfectly behaved. Today, you can think only of yourself, and I do wish you would.”

  Beth smiled up at him with a quirked brow. “Why should I think of myself today when everybody else is doing so?”

  Malcolm shook his head and patted her back gently. “Oh, Lady Montgomery, you are going to be a challenge.”

  “You are the one who could not decide what to do with me, my lord,” she reminded him, grinning cheekily. “It’s your own fault for thinking marriage might solve the issue.” She sighed and smiled at a few people whom she had met earlier, though their names now escaped her. “Who wished to meet the new Lady Montgomery?”

  “I did,” he said simply.

  He
what? She looked up at him in confusion. “You, Monty?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “That was the first time I’ve seen you appear even remotely distressed, and my feet were moving before I knew what was happening. I’m sure the entire room wants to meet you, but at the moment, I just want to walk with you. I’ve been entirely too sociable today.”

  Beth laughed in surprise and delight, the joy of the day rushing back into her soul. “Well, then shall I walk on in silence beside you to save you the trouble?”

  “You may talk if you wish, and I will listen,” he told her, his tone as calm and unaffected as his manner.

  How curious. She thought he would prefer her silence, but if she could comfort and ease her husband by speaking instead? All the better. “And what should I talk about, Monty?” she asked her husband, smiling still.

  Malcolm brought her hand to his lips for a too-polite kiss.

  “Anything you like, my dear. Anything at all.”

  Chapter Six

  "Lady Montgomery.”

  Beth jerked at the title for at least the third time in as many days, wondering when she would get used to such addresses. “Yes, Mrs. Rawlins?”

  The housekeeper smiled with her genuine warmth, her eyes crinkling at the edges. “The children were asking if they might have a reprieve from their lessons, as it is so fine a day outside,” she asked in her northern brogue.

  “Oh,” Beth murmured, setting aside her pen and the notes she had been writing for their wedding guests. “Um…” She bit her lip, not sure what was proper for lessons and activities outside of the usual schedule. It was not entirely her fault, as they had only been at Knightsgate for three days, and none of the warmth she had felt from the children before the wedding seemed to be evident in them now that they were home again.

  And her husband had been so rarely seen since coming here, she was not entirely sure she had actually married him, or that she had the authority to make any decisions about his children.

  “If I might suggest something, my lady,” Mrs. Rawlins offered, clearing her throat slightly.

  “Please do,” Beth sighed, not bothering to hide her relief as she pushed an invisible strand of hair behind her ear.

  The housekeeper stepped forward, clasping her hands before her. “The terrace is easily seen from here and would not allow the children too much freedom. Mrs. Franklin could continue the lessons, and the children would be outside.”

  Beth bit her lip, considering the possibility. She knew full well what it was like to be a child cooped up in a schoolroom with the sun shining outside, and that was a very special level of misery. But being so new, and unfamiliar with the children and their routine…

  “Would the earl approve?” she murmured hesitantly, forgetting to be the cool and confident countess she wished to be.

  The housekeeper’s eyes softened, and she looked a trifle saddened by the question. “The earl, my lady, has not taken much interest in the activities of his children of late. So long as lessons are accomplished, and the children are well, he is satisfied.”

  That didn’t sound like the Malcolm she had met in London. He had been devoted to the care of his children, taken great care to introduce them to her and mind their manners, and she had seen the pleasure in his eyes when she had managed to get Jane to speak to her. He had married her to help his children, for heaven’s sake!

  The description did, however, vaguely resemble the man she had been living with here at Knightsgate. The one she saw only at meals, who had given her a tour of the house that was so minimal that she had become lost and turned around at the end of it, and who had suddenly become as silent as his oldest daughter. None of his behavior seemed out of character to any of the staff. It did concern Beth a great deal, but she was new, and apparently had much to learn.

  He’d not taken much interest in his own children? That was absolutely uncalled for.

  Beth set her jaw and looked up at the housekeeper. “How well does Mrs. Franklin handle the children during lessons?” she asked, drumming her fingers on the back of the chair.

  Mrs. Rawlins scoffed without restraint. “That poor woman. She is a nanny, you know, not a governess. She knows enough to get by, I’ll grant you, but Master Archer will be needing something more fairly soon, or he will be behind the other boys when he goes to Eton. I would have thought he would have started with a tutor by now, but…”

  “Yes,” Beth murmured, thinking quickly. If she remembered, his birthday had only just occurred in the last few months, and at eight, he was quickly going to need more specific instructions. “Has Lord Montgomery said nothing about it?”

  “Not a word,” Mrs. Rawlins sighed. “But it was always the plan for Master Archer to attend Eton like his father. Lady Montgomery… that is, the late countess…”

  Beth waved off her discomfort with a gentle smile of encouragement.

  “It was what they always talked about,” the housekeeper finished softly. “But since her death, it has never been brought up again.”

  That was more and more the answer she’d been hearing, and that troubled Beth greatly. She understood that the loss of his first wife had upset Malcolm greatly, as it should have, and altered his life in rather permanent ways, but to give up on their dreams? To almost ignore his children? Surely there was a better way.

  She may not be able to reach Malcolm this early in their relationship, but she could certainly reach the children.

  Beth smiled up at Mrs. Rawlins. “Tell the children and Mrs. Franklin to come to the terrace. We will continue lessons there, and I will join in.”

  Mrs. Rawlins nearly gaped, her eyes wide, but her lips quirked as if she would smile. “You, my lady?”

  “Yes, I.” She rose and dropped her shawl in the now-vacated chair, setting her hands on her hips as she turned to face the housekeeper again. “I was almost a governess, you know, before I married his lordship. I may not be skilled enough to be hired as such by an earl, but I most certainly know my way around a schoolroom.” She looked out the window, then back with a wink. “Or a terrace, as it were.”

  Mrs. Rawlins laughed and left the room to relay the message to the children and nanny, and Beth paced her salon slowly, the last week of her life replaying in her mind.

  London had been a whirl of events and changes for her, and there had been no time for her to catch her breath. After the wedding, Malcolm had taken her to the family home, introduced her to the staff, and left her to get herself situated, reminding her that they would be leaving for the country in two days.

  He had left her alone for the whole day and the entire night.

  She hadn’t necessarily expected the sensational wedding night that one occasionally hears about, or even the one that one typically hears about, but she had expected… something. When it became painfully obvious that her wedding night would be nothing more than the night after her wedding, she had felt herself changed. She had quite a lovely night’s sleep, rose the next morning, dressed with the help of a maid for the first time in her entire life, and then become Lady Montgomery for the staff and for the world.

  As yet, she had not become that woman for herself, but there was no reason for anyone else to know that. Mrs. Rawlins here at Knightsgate undoubtedly knew it, but she ought to be the only one.

  The trip to Knightsgate had been uneventful, as the children and Mrs. Franklin had gone on ahead yet again. Malcolm had opted to ride his horse, giving her the excuse that he preferred the fresh air and activity to the stuffy and cramped quarters of a carriage. Beth hadn’t argued the point, not that he would have listened anyway. She’d spent the ride to Knightsgate flitting between sleeping and scheming, wondering how to get her husband to at least behave like a husband.

  She hadn’t come up with any answers, but there was time. If she worked very hard at it, she might actually have a husband for a week or so before one of them left this world for the next.

  There had been a bright moment when they had arrived at their estate when all th
e staff had come out to greet them. Malcolm had taken her hand and personally introduced her to every staff member, which had taken quite a long time. He had a rather extensive staff, but he had known every single one. He had smiled; he had laughed! His hand had been warm at her back, and he had looked truly pleased to have her as his wife, even a little proud of it.

  Once they had entered the house, however, he had changed once more. His distance, while never cold or cruel, was a palpable feeling. All formality and politeness, but no joy or light. If only he were as pleased with his wife in private as he seemed to be for the public.

  The house itself was a glorious place, and Beth was coming to adore every nook and cranny. She’d had to find her way for herself, as her husband’s tour had not been nearly as impressive as his introductions. But with the comfortable and capable Mrs. Rawlins helping her along, she’d been able to feel more at home than she had anticipated.

  It was a far grander house than any place she’d ever imagined herself living, but it also had the look of being a comfortable country cottage. There was nothing cottage-like about it aside from the appearance, but that was beside the point. Knightsgate had been built in the sixteenth century, with all the fine Elizabethan styles that came with the era.

  Owing to poor finances over the next two hundred years, there had been no alterations or additions to make it seem grander. Certain parts of the house had been restructured for safety and modernized by necessity, but the overall charm remained perfectly intact.

  There were many windows throughout the house, giving way for much natural light, and intricate carvings decorated many of the elegant oak panels and grand mahogany staircases within. There was a lovely gallery that she itched to explore in more depth, which had been added to by several former occupants of the house who bore artistic talent. She would not be so fortunate, as her skills lay in other areas, but she could certainly appreciate them for the masterpieces they were.

 

‹ Prev