Page 63 of Marry in Secret
“I could have joined the men who freed me,” he told Galbraith, “but I wanted to come home. So I hopped from ship to ship, mainly fishing vessels, working my passage until I found a ship that was heading for England.” Back to Rose.
“Not much of a storyteller, are you?” Galbraith commented dryly. “Left out all the interesting bits.”
Thomas shrugged. Pity was not an emotion he courted. And if people learned the details... Disgust was also something he’d rather not see in their eyes. Bad enough that Galbraith had worked out that he’d been a galley slave. The lowest of the low. Utter degradation.
“And these five men, the ones you left behind, they weren’t working the galleys like you?”
“No, they were lucky. They stayed ashore.”
“Because you were recalcitrant, and kept trying to escape?”
“Something like that.”
Galbraith gave him a shrewd look. “In other words, not at all. There’s a whole other story there, I suspect, but I can see you’re determined to play oyster. I gather you haven’t told Rose much about your experiences.”
“No, and I don’t intend to.” He refused to... to contaminate her with the depths to which he’d sunk.
Galbraith chuckled. “I can see you haven’t been married long. Women have a way of finding things out, and Rutherford women have a knack for getting to the heart of things. The very things you’re determined never to speak of...”
His eyes darkened and for a moment Thomas could see that Galbraith was far away in some other place and time. He straightened and added briskly, “At any rate, I know what it’s like to lose men for whom you feel responsible. If there’s anything I can do to help, count me in.” The man was utterly sincere, Thomas realized with a shock.
“Thank you.” He didn’t know what Galbraith could do, but he appreciated the offer. And the implicit suggestion of friendship.
“You don’t need to do everything by yourself, you know,” Galbraith pointed out. “You’re part of this family now.” He glanced toward the stairs, and his rather austere face softened. “Speaking of which, here come the ladies. Brace yourself, Beresford, for talk of papers,chinoiserie, faux patterns, fabrics, motifs, flocking, bas reliefs,trompe l’oeil, and other matters incomprehensible to the masculine brain. So, my love.” He greeted his wife as she entered the room. “Enjoying yourself?”
She hurried across to him and slipped her arm through his. The affection between them was obvious. “Oh, Edward, it’s going to be such fun. Rose and I have been making such delightful plans.”
“You won’t recognize this house when I’m finished with it, Thomas,” Rose declared, waving her little notebook.
“You won’t,” agreed Galbraith mock gloomily. “My advice is to stay far away while the transformation is being achieved. In fact, flee the country, my good fellow, while you can.”
“Oh, hush, Edward, it’s going to be quite charming,” Lady Ashendon said, laughing. “But now my dears, we must leave. We have just enough time to change for dinner.”
Rose linked her arm through Thomas’s. “I’ll stay here with Thomas a while,” she said. “We have things to discuss. He can walk me home later.”
“Will you be home for dinner?” Lady Ashendon asked.
Rose glanced at Thomas and squeezed his arm. “Probably not.” She was blushing.
Thomas did his best to look indifferent.
“Very well, then,” Lady Ashendon said tranquilly. “I’ll see you later. Good evening, Mr. Beresford.”
Thomas watched as the Rutherford ladies collected their things, arranged their hats, pulled on their gloves and left, with Galbraith and the dog as escorts.
He could hardly believe Lady Ashendon had allowed him and Rose to remain in an empty house unchaperoned. It was final, tacit acceptance of their marriage.
Finally, blessedly, Thomas and Rose were alone.
***
Rose walked him through the house, explaining the changes she wanted to make.
“Sounds good,” he told her. “Perfect,” and “Just right.”
“And here”—she opened a door leading to a room that would make a small dressing room or a large closet—“we’re going to put the stables.”
“Very nice,” he said.
