Page 19 of His Darling Duchess
“You could absolutely order me to do so, Your Grace, but I would feel obligated to advise you that the duchess already rang for her maid and announced her intention to breakfast downstairs.”
Rhys shot upright. “Why didn’t you say that first, man?”
“You were too busy marinating in your own grumpiness, I believe, Your Grace.”
“And will you cut it out with the your graces? I get enough of that from everyone else, I don’t need it in my own bedroom!”
Harris’s grin was hastily smothered as he set the coffee on the table beside the window, picked up Rhys’s robe from where he’d discarded it and brought it over to the bed. “As you say, sir. I take it you’ve advised the duchess of your preferences?”
“Careful,” Rhys warned, shrugging the robe on. “I tolerate your insolence towards me because without you I’d not be here, but keep it respectful when you speak of her grace.”
“Very good, sir.” Harris nodded. “But I beg to differ about your still being here, sir. You’d have survived even without my inept needlework.”
“Perhaps, but the wound fever would have carried me off without your devoted care.” Rhys laid a hand on Harris’s shoulder in passing. The smaller man had become his batman with his final promotion to colonel, and had in fact stitched up more than one of Rhys’s battle wounds.
While Rhys drank his coffee, Harris set out a suit of clothes for him. Rhys’s eyebrows went up as he inspected the dark green coat the valet held up.
“Green, Harris?”
“A colour of new beginnings, sir,” Harris said blandly. “And one which rather suits you, if I may say so.”
Rhys debated telling Harris to put the green coat away and bring out one of the plain black ones he generally favoured, but a tiny part of him wondered if Harris was right. Did the green colour suit him, and would Aurelia think so, too?
His wife - and how strange that felt! - was already in the morning-room when he entered, looking like a ray of sunshine despite the grey winter weather outside the windows. In a primrose-coloured gown with her golden hair arranged elegantly atop her head, she looked up from the coddled eggs on her plate and smiled at him.
“Good morning, Stowe.”
He was staring, he realised, but it was rather like opening the curtains to a view you had expected to be cold and dark, only to find the sun in all its summertime splendour bathing the world in warm golden light. “Ah, good morning, my lady,” he managed to get out at last, taking a few steps forward and sitting down in the chair a footman held out for him. “I hope you rested well?”
She blushed delicately, her gaze flicking very briefly to the servants. “I did, my lord… after your visit.”
Scalding colour crept up Rhys’s cheeks too, but he said nothing. She was right. Only Harris among the servants knew the consummation of their marriage hadn’t taken place, and for Aurelia’s sake the truth had to remain hidden.
Aurelia returned her attention to her breakfast, as a footman filled a plate at Rhys’s request and brought it to him. He hadn’t eaten well the previous day, too concerned with Aurelia’s welfare to have much appetite, and found himself ravenous now. He was halfway through his steak and eggs when she set down her teacup and asked him a question.
“May I ask the housekeeper to give me a tour of the house today, my lord?”
Rhys choked on a mouthful, staring at her wide-eyed. She winced back even as he stared.
“I beg your pardon. I do not mean to usurp your aunt’s place as mistress of the household, of course, but…”
“My aunt is not mistress of this household any longer,” Rhys managed to swallow and get the words out. “She is spending a few days with a friend in order to give us some privacy to begin our marriage, and then we have already agreed she is to take a house of her own. Though she is fond of you, she felt it would be uncomfortable for you and she to reside under the same roof, under the circumstances.”
Aurelia’s fingers pleated her napkin, her brow furrowing. “I do not mean to drive her from her home,” she murmured.
“It is not of your doing,” Rhys said, trying to keep his tone gentle and not snap as his thoughts drifted once again to his cousin. “Of course you shall tour the house this morning, if you wish it, and anything you wish changed, you need only say the word. You might want to wait an hour or so, however.”
“Why?” Aurelia asked innocently. “Is Mrs. Tanwell busy at this hour of the morning?”
“She will never be too busy to attend you, I promise you, but I thought you might like to wait for company.” He smiled at her. “I invited your mother to visit this morning, to assure herself as regards your welfare, and to bring your sisters with her.”
Apparently inviting Lady Lymsey had been absolutely the right thing to do, because Aurelia’s face lit up and she beamed at him, reaching out to touch his hand briefly before obviously thinking better of it and pulling back. Rhys resisted grabbing her hand to hold onto it, instead savouring her delight and approval like a fine wine, though he shook his head and told her she did not need to thank him when she made the attempt.
“Nor need you ever wait for my approval to extend an invitation to your family or any of your friends,” he told her.
“You are very good to me, Stowe,” Aurelia said earnestly.
“My dear lady.” This time, he did not restrain himself from lifting her hand and brushing a light kiss over the backs of her fingers. “As a husband, I hope my greatest virtue will be in indulging your every whim.”
