Page 83 of An Unwilling Earl
Charlotte moved through the room, lightly touching the covered furniture as she passed. She turned to him, and even from this far away, even in the dim light, he could see the sparkle in her eyes.
“This is all ours?”
He threw his arms wide. “All of it.”
“But how? Why? I mean, I know why, but…I’m speechless.”
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? There is no staff. Just a caretaker who comes in once a week to check on it. We’ll have to hire some people.”
“What about Mrs. Smith?”
“This is far too large for just Mrs. Smith. She’ll need a staff.”
“I don’t know…” Her voice trailed off. “I’ve never hired a staff before. I’ve never lived in such a place. I feel inadequate.”
Jacob took her hands in his. “Don’t ever feel inadequate.Ever.” He squeezed her fingers for emphasis. “I don’t know the first thing about being an earl, but we’ll figure it out together. And in the meantime, you’ll never have to worry about where to put callers.”
She leaned her head against his chest and breathed deep. “Oh, Jacob. I don’t know what to say. This is all so overwhelming. But, thank you.”
He cricked his neck to look down at her. Her lashes were resting against her cheeks, and he realized that she had gained weight while in Mrs. Smith’s care. Her cheeks were pink and rounded, not sallow and hollow like when he’d first met her, and when he put his arms around her it didn’t feel as if he’d break her.
“Now the next thing we need to get you is an acceptable wardrobe. I’ve made an appointment with Lady Armbruster’s modiste for this afternoon.”
Her eyes widened, and she pulled away but not enough that he had to let her go. He liked holding her. He liked feeling her in his arms, and he liked sleeping next to her. Even after less than a week of being married he was falling under her spell.
“Jacob. This is too much. I don’t need Lady Armbruster’s modiste to dress me.”
He hugged her tight and then let her go, but just an arm’s length away. “You deserve Lady Armbruster’s modiste. I want you to get gowns that fit you and your style. Enough of wearing someone else’s clothes.”
She blinked back tears, and Jacob was relieved to see that he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries and that his instincts had been right. She needed to become the Countess of Ashland, just like he needed to become the Earl of Ashland.
…
Jacob showed Charlotte around the rest of the house, although she was hardly able to take it all in. The idea that this was her home now, that she would walk these halls, command these servants, was not what she was accustomed to, and she was overwhelmed by all of it.
Everything was sobig. She was fairly certain there was not a rickety chair here. And there was a matching tea set. Probably several. How was she going to manage all of this?
What had she gotten herself into?
She’d gone from planning to travel to America to find employment to being a real countess in a gigantic house.
She could see that Jacob was quite pleased with the new arrangement. He was proud of his new home and was excited to show it off to her, opening doors and ushering her into one room after another. Besides the formal sitting room where she would take callers, there was a music room, a masculine-looking study that he seemed particularly pleased with, a ballroom that he said was smallish compared to most.
The thought of hosting any type of ball terrified her, but she kept that to herself and swallowed her trepidation with a trembling smile as he led her up the sweeping staircase covered in red carpet to the balcony above that led to the private rooms.
“Here is what was the nursery,” he said. Pink touched the tips of his ears, and he quickly closed the door before she could get a proper look at the room. Did it remind him of his son? Did he regret that Cora wasn’t his countess and his son wasn’t going to be in that room?
She pressed a hand against the butterflies in her stomach and moved down the hall with him.
“And this is the master bedroom.” He opened the door to reveal a masculine room done in shades of blue and gold. The centerpiece of the room was the large mahogany four-poster bed with a cover of the deepest, most royal blue that Charlotte had ever seen. It dwarfed everything else in the room.
Jacob opened a door on the other side that revealed a changing room. “Your bedchamber is through here.”
Charlotte followed him tentatively, looking back over her shoulder at the massive bed that she would need a stepstool to climb onto. And then it penetrated her brain what Jacob had just said, and she entered what would be her room. This was a much more feminine room, the furniture dainty, the bed not nearly as large, the colors muted greens and yellows.
“What do you think?” Jacob was standing in the middle of the room looking at her expectantly. She blinked up at him with a mixture of emotions.
“I…I think it’s beautiful. And overwhelming.”
