Page 21 of A Gentleman Never Surrenders
“No, I’ll be quite fine on my own. What time is dinner? Will there be a formal table prepared? Or should I expect something more casual?” Her tone was cool not cold, but it made him want to growl. This wasn’t the Milly he’d wanted to see. This was the Milly from before they’d married, the cool socialite who walled her heart in ice. There was no hint of the intimacy that had been growing between them. They’d made progress this afternoon, and now she was attempting to move backward. He’d be damned if he let her shut him out again. He clenched his fists at his side. He would have to overwhelm her with passion, it was the only time he could break down that frosty wall she’d erected to keep him out. When Milly was kissing him, she wasn’t cold or closed up; she was a different woman, a passionate, wild creature that smiled and laughed. A woman he could come to love with a little time. And that was what he wished for, to have a wife he could love, who might love him back.
“I’m not sure. I’ll come to collect you. Since we will dine in my chamber, no need to dress up. Wear whatever you wish.”
She nodded politely and tapped one booted foot, apparently more than ready for him to leave.
“Well…I’ll see you in a short while,” he said, and she promptly shut the door in his face.
“I’ll see you in a short while.” He sounded like an idiot. With a low growl, he stalked off toward his own chambers and slammed the door.
Chapter 8
Milly sagged onto the four-poster bed, sinking into the soft mattress. Her feet stung and she was exhausted enough that she could have fallen asleep right there, if her stomach would stop grumbling.
“Milady?” Constance put a gentle hand on her forehead, as though testing her for a fever. “Are you well?”
With a heavy sigh, she responded, “Yes, well enough. Our cab ruptured a tire and we had to walk seven miles to get here.”
Her maid winced and immediately reached for Milly’s booted feet. “Shall I remove these for you?”
“Please,” she almost begged, but it was so out of character for her that she didn’t miss Constance’s little smile. When the boots come off and she peeled her stockings down, she winced and hissed as she discovered blisters on her heels. A few places were rubbed bloody and raw.
“Oh!” Constance gasped.
Milly closed her eyes for a second, breathing. The cold air stung the wounded areas, but after a few seconds the burning eased.
“I’ll fetch a healing balm. Whatever Mr. Evans can find.” Constance left her alone and she curled up in a ball on the bed, pulling the counterpane over herself to stay warm. A small fire was in the hearth, but it didn’t warm her up as much as she hoped it would.
I’ll just rest until she gets back. Shouldn’t be too long.
When she opened her eyes again, she found Constance peering down at her, worry knitting her brows together.
“Mr. Hadley is waiting for you to join him in his chambers for dinner.” Constance held out slippers for her to put on and a thick woolen shawl to wrap around her shoulders.
Milly flinched as she eased her feet into the slippers but was relieved that she wouldn’t have to put the boots on again. Then she tightened the shawl and squared her shoulders.
“Constance, what’s the staffing situation like here? There should be more fires, less dust…less…” She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger before blowing out a breath.
Her lady’s maid met her gaze steadily. “We need to hire at least three footmen, four upstairs maids, and a scullery maid. As of right now, Wesden Heath has a butler, housekeeper, cook, one maid, and one footman.” Constance ticked off the servants on her fingers as she paced back and forth in front of Milly. Milly bit her lip to hide her smile. Constance, even though she was a lady’s maid, was more suited to the role of army general, or perhaps housekeeper. If Mrs. Nelson retired, Milly would have to see that Constance was offered the position.
“It is a good thing my father left me in some control of the finances. We can pursue the issue of the staff tomorrow morning.”
“Very good, milady,” Constance said.
“No more of that milady, Constance. I’m merely a gentleman’s wife now,” she reminded her maid gently.
Constance looked heavenward as though beseeching the angels to intercede before she turned to tidy the toilette items on the little vanity table, muttering, “You cannot take the blue blood out of a lady.”
Milly checked her appearance in the tall looking glass and swept her hands over the messy style of her once-tidy coiffure. Sleeping without taking her hair down had been a little foolish, but she had been so exhausted she had no thought of it.
“Heavens, I look a fright,” she said, and pinched her pale cheeks before heading to the door. She looked dreadful in her rumpled traveling clothes, slippers, and shawls, but after everything she had been through today, she was simply unable to care. Most gentlemen who married a lady of her standing would expect perfection in a wife every minute. Milly hoped Owen did not, because she was too exhausted to do anything about her appearance tonight, no matter how much she might wish to look her best out of habit.
She retraced her steps back down the hall to find the only other room on the upstairs floor that looked occupied. A sheen of gold light illuminated the bottom of the door, showing someone had a fire and lamps lit. She rapped her knuckles lightly and the door swung open a moment later.
“There you are. I was about to send out a search party.” Owen stepped back, allowing her to brush past him to enter the room. He wore only trousers and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up. His room was warm and welcoming with a healthy fire, unlike her chambers, which had been so cold her fingers were white and as brittle as icicles. She shivered and grasped the loose ends of her shawl as she headed straight for a chair by the fire.
“Cook made some spiced beef and soda bread for us,” Owen said as he joined her. “I know you are used to more impressive fare, but I assure you I will send Mrs. Nelson to town tomorrow with a list of everything you desire.”
Milly didn’t look his way, even though she wanted to. If she looked at him and saw that handsome face turned to hers, she would cave in to her desire to get closer to him. The almost boyish hopefulness to his tone made her feel melancholy and a little fluttery inside. The strange mix of emotions was puzzling, but she reminded herself to keep her distance. She couldn’t afford to fall in love with this man, no matter how sweet, charming, and completely seductive he could be. If she didn’t protect her heart, he might leave her to slowly drown in a quiet life of desperation for loving a man who would never treat her as an equal. She’d seen it so many times before with other women her age who’d been born with a desire to be something more than simply a wife and mother.
