Page 89 of His Illegitimate Duchess
“It doesn’t signify,” she replied and put a false smile on her face. “Where are we headed?”
Her husband quickly (and correctly) deduced that she feared that London gossip had reached Norfolk and that she worried about her reputation among their tenants.
His insides were assaulted by an unpleasant sensation that he convinced himself was caused by Mrs. Clark’s breakfast choices. He decided he’d have to warn her to stick to lighter fare in the future, seeing as they were almost at the height of summer.
“We’re going to the local dressmaker, and then we’ll drive to Brandon’s house to call on him.”
“Why do we need the dressmaker?”
“My wife needs a riding habit,” he announced.
*
“And this is my wife, Mrs. Alice Brandon,” Mr. Brandon announced with both pride and affection clearly visible on his face.
“It is wonderful to meet you, Your Grace,” the young Mrs. Brandon curtsied to Lizzie, who seemed startled by the gesture but quickly recovered.
Talbot wanted to smile because he still remembered Elizabeth’s first, awkward curtsy to him. He noticed that, since they got married, she had reverted to what he assumed was her natural state, marked by a more relaxed demeanour, and only rarely reached for her ballroom behaviour. After only a few days away from London, his wife seemed to have forgotten all about theTon.
“Likewise. You have a lovely home,” Lizzie said sincerely.
“Did you get a chance to tour the estate?” Mr Brandon asked her as they sat down.
“Yes, parts of it,” Lizzie told him excitedly, “His Grace took me for a drive, and answered all of my questions most patiently. I was quite impressed by all that he has managed to build here, especially considering that he inherited the title so young.”
Talbot felt his chest swelling with masculine pride at his wife’s praise, while Brandon grinned at him warmly and knowingly. His friend was so relaxed and so quick to smile. Talbot didn’t exactly envy him, but hedidwonder what that felt like.
“I simply did what I had to do,” he said, projecting coolness he didn’t feel.
Lizzie nodded soberly, and it was the first time that he consciously recognised his wife as a kindred spirit. Had she not done the same thing, and done it well? Talbot wanted to squeeze her hand as he frowned at his own slowness.
“If you are interested, the church ladies and I meet once a month to organise auctions and balls and similar events to benefit the poor, and you are welcome to join us,” Mrs. Brandon said eagerly, and he could see his wife’s face light up with a similar emotion.
“I would be delighted!” she exclaimed, before shooting him a concerned look.
He gave an almost imperceptible nod, and her shoulders relaxed.
She looks so lost sometimes,he thought.
Talbot was almost drunk on the heady power of being the one to teach her things, show her how his world (and her own body) worked, to lead her as a man and as her husband. Despite his selfish nature, he’d never felt this degree of possessiveness over anyone or anything in his life.
When they headed back to the manor half an hour later, his Duchess was uncharacteristically subdued. She didn’t exclaim or point at things or ask one question after another like she had on the drive here.
“Is aught amiss?” he asked.
“I’ve just been lost in thought.”
“What have you been thinking about so intently?” He replied in what he hoped was a light, teasing tone.
“I was thinking about the Brandons.”
“Did you not find them agreeable?”
“No! Nothing like that,” she reassured him quickly, and he exhaled in relief.
Edward was, perhaps, his closest friend. He hated the idea of Elizabeth thinking poorly of him, or vice versa (which was impossible, he felt).
Not that I need anyone’s approval or support, Talbot thought, remembering who he was.
