Page 82 of An Unwilling Earl
Her eyes were red and wet and her face blotchy, but she’d stopped crying, and she looked more beautiful to him right at this moment than she’d ever had before because this moment was real. This moment was honest.
“I wouldn’t be upset if you stayed my countess forever.”
She stopped biting her lip, and it was plump and moist, and he desperately wanted to kiss it, to remind her that they were perfectly matched in bed, and maybe that would allay all of her fears. But being good in bed was shallow and only a small part of what made a marriage work.
“I think you might be stuck with me,” she whispered.
He nodded soberly. “I can handle that.”
But he wasn’t sure he could handle many more scenes like this one. The fact that she was so upset, and it was because of him, because he’d made her a countess without thinking of the consequences—hell, he still wasn’t aware of all of the consequences—nearly killed him.
She tried to smile, but her lips trembled, and the smile fell away before it was fully formed. “What are we going to do, Jacob?”
“We are going to take this one step at a time. A new countess needs a new wardrobe. I just came from a meeting with Armbruster and his man-of-business, and we went over the books of the estate. We will not only get you an entire new wardrobe, but a grand ball gown for your first ball as well. We will drop the jaws of all of the people who come to honor us at our first ball.”
…
“Watch your step.” Jacob guided Charlotte up the wide stone stairs. She held his arm tightly, her steps tentative. “Just a few more.” He glanced up at the door with the large knocker and felt a thrill.
After Charlotte’s experience with the callers the day before, Jacob knew how he was going to tell her about their new home. He would surprise her. No longer would she have to accept callers on rickety wooden chairs in his home office.
“Jacob, where are you taking me? Where are we? I don’t like this.”
She had been hesitant to put the blindfold on, and he supposed it was her testament of trust toward him that she finally did and allowed him to lead her down the street and up these steps. Charlotte trusted very few people, and he was proud that he was becoming one of them.
They entered the cool interior, and Charlotte stiffened, sensing the change in temperature and light.
He carefully unknotted the blindfold at the back of her head and let it fall away then stepped back to watch her reaction.
She blinked a few times and turned her head to capture the entirety of the large entryway. She looked up at the soaring rotund ceiling, her gaze sweeping toward the staircase that hugged the rounded wall.
She looked down at the black and white marbled floor at her feet.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
“This is our new home.”
Her gaze darted around the entryway one more time, before meeting his.
“What are you saying?” She was still whispering as if they had walked into someone else’s house.
“I inherited this from the former earl. It’s ours now.”
With her hands clutched in front of her, as if she were afraid to touch anything, she walked around the entryway, her heels clicking in the loud silence. She stopped in front of a small table on which was perched a large black and white vase.
“I can’t believe this,” she said.
“Follow me.” He headed for a closed door, opened it, and stood back to let her enter first. She approached hesitantly and poked her head inside the room.
“Jacob,” she whispered.
Jacob followed her into the dimness. The curtains had been pulled tight since the house had sat unused for so long, and the furniture was covered in sheets to protect it from the dust, but none of that affected the sheer size of the room nor the elegance of it.
A fireplace big enough for Jacob to stand in was directly across from the door with a grouping of chairs and couches in front of it. The mantel was an intricately carved monstrosity with a very large, gilt-framed mirror perched atop it.
The room was mostly white with accents of gold and yellows.
“I think you can accept callers comfortably in here,” he said to the hushed silence.
