Chapter Nine

For all his adventures, all his experiences of places, people, all of the situations and circumstances that he’d found himself in, Luke knew this was his greatest challenge of all. He wasn’t upset with Aislinn, but he was borderline furious with himself. Why the hell hadn’t he thought this through today? All the details that had eluded him were ones that should have been front and centre. He’d been too focused on stopping Percy to think about the situation he was putting himself in.

Married. He had no one to blame but himself.

He liked Aislinn, and she was a beautiful woman. But therein lay the issue. Acting as if they were a happily married couple, but not actually being one, could damn well be the death of him.

Keeping his mind off Aislinn and focused on the reason for the marriage was what he needed to do. He needed to become a damn good actor, too. There was no way in hell that he could let Percy find out that he and Aislinn were not... He shook his head to block out the thought that was forming.

There had never been an unwilling woman in his bed, and there never would be. Married or not. Entering the study, alone, for he’d instructed Aislinn to go up to bed upon entering the house, he walked straight to the side cabinet and pulled the topper off the decanter of whiskey. He reached for a glass, but then merely lifted the bottle to his lips. It was probably one of the most uncouth things a man of his social status could do, drinking straight from the bottle, but right now, he didn’t care. He’d swigged from a bottle many times over the last eight years and would never promise that it wouldn’t happen again.

There were too many issues up in the air. Things he hadn’t thought of until it was too late.

He had no idea how long it would take for the guardianship to become settled, and even if—strike that—when guardianship was granted to him, he couldn’t be sure if stipulations would be put in place. Percy spouted that the girls needed to live here, where they would receive all the benefits of being a duke’s daughter, and as much as it goaded him to agree with his brother on anything, Percy was right.

He’d already known that. That’s why his original plan had been to find someone to raise the girls here.

Montana wasn’t a godforsaken land. It was a glorious place, but it was rough country. That’s what had drawn him to it. What he loved about it.

But that was him.

He was a man. Not a woman or a child.

Mrs Brings, whom he had bought the ranch from, had left because it was too rough, too challenging for her and her children.

Sucking in air as the whiskey burned his throat on its way down, he carried the bottle to a chair. Set it on the table beside him. There was no one better to raise Fern and Ivy than Aislinn, and that’s where he worried this plan might implode.

He wasn’t sure that he would be able to leave her here alone for months on end, when the time came. She’d been right when she said others did that, but he suspected his conscience wouldn’t allow it. That’s why he’d left here years ago. To avoid being committed to anyone but himself, because when you commit yourself to someone, they come first.

He’d wished many times that Rowland was still alive, for many reasons. Right now, it was because he needed someone to talk to, to consult with, confide in. Hells bells, there wasn’t anyone he could talk to, anyone he could trust. He thought about Doo, but a man in his station couldn’t consult with a servant, which only caused more irritation.

Other than Aislinn. He trusted her. But he’d already shot enough holes in her plan and didn’t want to disappoint her further.

There was Mr Watson. He’d pay another visit to the solicitor tomorrow. Have him dig deeper, check to see if there might be any conditions placed on guardianship.

A noise somewhere in the house had him looking towards the door. The staff here were sure to wonder why he was sitting in the study, drinking straight out of the bottle, while his lovely bride was upstairs in his bedroom.

So much for lady luck. Why couldn’t Aislinn have the face of an old maid and be three times his age? That would have been luck.

Strike that. No one would ever have believed he’d marry a woman like that.

Marrying Aislinn was far more believable, and it was time for him to start playing the part of the happy bridegroom.

He stood, carried the bottle back to the side cabinet, replaced the stopper, and left the room.

Upstairs, he entered his bedroom. It was a fair-sized room. Besides hosting the large, four-poster bed and a sitting area near the fireplace, there was a separate bathing room, and a dressing room. The room seemed significantly smaller when his gaze settled on the bed. Every lamp had been turned down, leaving only faint glimmers to lighten the darkness.

She was huddled beneath the blankets, close to the edge of the bed. Any closer and she’d be on the floor. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t move as he closed the door, but he doubted she was sleeping. Like him, she was probably distraught over questions about what the day’s events meant for the rest of her life.

Her life had changed as drastically as his.

Deep in his heart, he wanted to comfort her, tell her everything was going to be fine. But in his mind, where common sense thankfully prevailed, he knew he couldn’t do that, because if he gave himself an inch when it came to her, he’d end up taking a mile. He was attracted to her. Overly attracted, even though he damn well knew this marriage was in name only.

Ignoring her, as she was him, he proceeded to the changing chamber. After removing his coat, vest, and ascot, he sat down and used the bootjack to remove his boots. His toes appreciated that, and he was grateful that the new pair he’d purchased, along with some of the clothes, his and hers, had been delivered earlier in the day.

They’d already been put away in the room.

For the first time in his life, there were women’s garments hanging close to his, women’s shoes sitting on the floor near his well-worn boots, and he imagined the drawers of the bureau had been rearranged to accommodate her other necessities.

After pulling off his socks, he rose, pulled down the unnecessary suspenders, and unbuttoned his shirt. He’d slept in his clothes more often than not some years, and could do so again, but not this shirt. It was too tight. The pants were snug, too, but he was sure to be uncomfortable simply sharing his bed, so could live with tight pants.

He returned to the main room and extinguished the lamps, before making his way to the bed. Without folding back the covers, he lay down

Aislinn didn’t move, but her breathing was not slow and even, it was quick and short.

He considered rolling onto his side so they were back to back, but instead, knowing he wouldn’t fall asleep easily no matter what position he was in, he lifted his arms and threaded his fingers together, then slid his hands between the back of his head and the pillow.

The silence in the room was only interrupted by her quick breathing, and his own deep sighs. Though there was plenty of room between them, he could feel that her body was tense, stiff. The tension between them hung heavily in the air.

‘Go to sleep, Aislinn,’ he whispered, hoping his own mind would obey.

She still didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge his statement, and it was a long time before her breathing evened out. Only then did he, too, relax enough to follow his own advice.

Hours later, he wasn’t sure what roused him from sleep. It may have been the sun peeking in through the window, or it could have been an inner instinct that told him he wasn’t alone. Having slept alone his entire life, less a few nights now and again, the instinct was too strong to ignore and he opened his eyes.

He was on his side, as was she. They were facing each other. The fog of sleep was clouding his mind, and he stared at the sleeping beauty lying next to him. The covers were over her shoulders, leaving only her face exposed. Her delicate features were fully tranquil.

Her hands were folded beneath her chin and one cheek was buried deep in the soft pillow.

An unfathomable warmth spread throughout his body, and he had no control over the smile that tugged on his lips as her long lashes fluttered softly.

He waited, holding his breath, as they fluttered again before opening. She blinked, as if needing to focus, then her lips turned up in a soft smile as she looked directly at him.

It was a moment or two until the cogs in his brain rolled into sync, giving him full use of his cognitive abilities. Memories, the reason as to why they were in bed together, struck with full force.

Evidently, the same happened to her.

Despite all he knew, he had to admit that it was somewhat comical the way they both jolted, then flipped over and climbed off the bed simultaneously.

Not attempting to hold back the humour that was making him grin from seeping into his tone, he said, ‘Good morning.’ Heading straight to the dressing room, he asked, ‘Sleep well?’

‘Fine, thank you, and you?’ she replied.

He was already in the dressing room, looking for a set of britches that might hide his morning condition. ‘Very well.’ He grabbed a new set of trousers and quickly switched them out for the too tight pair he’d slept in.

Rustling sounds came from the other room as he shrugged on a new shirt while walking to the door. She had covered her nightgown with a wrapper and was making the bed. Her half of it. His only needed a little straightening. ‘There are others who do that,’ he said.

Without looking his way, she said, ‘Others have enough to do.’

He turned around and re-entered the dressing room to complete his day’s attire. ‘I suppose we’ll need to hire a few more people.’

‘What for?’

Sitting down, he pulled on one sock while asking, ‘Didn’t staff travel with Rowland and Leslie from Havenbrook during their visits to London?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who?’ He pulled on his other sock and then stuck a foot in the new boots.

‘The Duchess’s ladies’ maid, the Duke’s personal attendant, and a footman, amongst others.’

‘Others meaning you,’ he questioned, testing out the new boots and finding their fit as satisfactory as he had when he’d tried them on yesterday.

‘Yes.’

He buttoned his shirt and carried the vest and jacket to the doorway. ‘Well, then, I guess the least we should do is hire you a ladies’ maid.’

She was seated on a small bench, brushing her hair before a mirror on a dressing table that must have been carried in at some point last evening. A chestnut shade, her hair was long, past her shoulders, and thick.

Her eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. ‘What about a personal attendant for you? Or a footman?’

He leaned a hand on the door jam. ‘Don’t need them. I have Benjamin and Gabe.’

She set the brush down, and swiftly braided her hair, almost as if she had eyes in the back of her head. Or simply didn’t need them to see what she was doing. ‘And I have Claire and Millie.’

‘They have other duties.’ He knew the reassignments he’d requested had greatly irritated her.

After pining up the braid, she stood, pivoted, and met his gaze as she walked towards him. ‘There is also Mary Ann, as well as Penny.’

‘And John and Doo,’ he said.

‘I believe that’s enough.’ She stopped before him, nodding towards the dressing room behind him. ‘Are you finished?’

He stepped forward and gestured towards the room. ‘It’s all yours.’

‘Thank you.’ She entered the room and closed the door.

Though their conversation had been amicable, there had been an icy tone to it on both of their parts, telling him what he already knew. None of this was any easier for her than it was for him. Tossing his vest and jacket on the bed, he walked into the water closet and used the tepid water in the pitcher to give himself a quick shave.

He exited moments before the dressing room door opened and she appeared, wearing a light green dress with a row of lace-covered buttons down the front, well past her waistline. The sleeves came down to her elbows, and exposed a layer of lace beneath the green material. There was lace around her neck, too, and like the yellow one yesterday, the dress fit her like a glove.

Rubbing his tongue on the roof of his mouth to work up enough salvia to swallow, so he could speak, he gave a nod towards the door. ‘Shall we?’

She crossed the room. ‘I will be stopping at the nursery before going downstairs.’

He opened the door. ‘I will join you.’

Attempting to act normal, to sound normal, when everything was utterly abnormal, was difficult. But worse than that was the awkwardness that overcame Aislinn at times. She’d always been exceedingly comfortable both here and at Havenbrook, prior to Percy and Hazel moving in, that is, but today, that comfort was escaping her. In part due to the attitude of the other staff.

They were still the kind, efficient, even gracious people she’d always known. It was just that she felt a barrier between them and herself. Even Claire.

It had been clear that new roles had been established as soon as she’d entered the nursery. Claire had faded into the woodwork, just like she used to do when the Duke and Duchess would enter the room to visit with Fern and Ivy.

Both of the girls had already been dressed and were ready for the day, simply waiting on their breakfast to be brought up to them. She and Luke stayed until that happened and then proceeded downstairs to the dining room, where they were served a variety of meats and vegetables, along with the eggs and toast that she normally ate for breakfast.

Other than their exchange about additional staff in the bedroom, few words had passed between her and Luke. The meal was reminiscent of last night, with little more than the clink of silverware touching plates.

‘Dash it to hell.’ Luke’s muttered words broke the heavy silence.

‘Excuse me?’ she asked. ‘Is something wrong with your meal?’

‘No, it’s not that.’ He waved a hand, letting Gabe, who was standing near the door, know that his assistance wasn’t needed, then leaned back in his chair. ‘We are going to be here, in this house, in London, for as long as it takes to get things worked out.’

She nodded, already fully aware of that, but so very unsure about so many things.

‘What do you say we make things a little less formal?’ he asked.

She wasn’t sure how to answer, because she didn’t know the extent of his question, and merely waited for him to say more.

‘In America, even the littlest tykes sit at the table, eating together. I know it’s the English way for children to eat in the nursery. I did until I was ten or so. But what purpose does it serve? I’d understand if they were sick, naughty, or if they ate with their hands.’

Aislinn took a drink of water to wash down the bite of toast that became stuck in her throat. ‘Fern and Ivy know how to use utensils.’

‘Exactly. So why can’t they eat down here with us? Unless there is some kind of formal meal, in which case they wouldn’t want to be down here—I sure hadn’t wanted to be—then I think we should allow them to eat with us.’

A wave of happiness washed over her. That would certainly make meal times more tolerable, and it would give her more of an opportunity to oversee the care of Fern and Ivy. She trusted Claire, but giving up her old duties was filling her with anxiety. ‘I don’t see how that would cause any harm,’ she said.

‘Good.’ He picked up his fork. ‘You will arrange that?’

‘I will.’

‘Do they have favourite foods?’ he asked. ‘Besides biscuits with sweet icing?’

She had to smile at his reference, and felt the strain that was filling her ease slightly. ‘Yes, they do.’

He stabbed the piece of sausage he’d sliced in two with his fork and lifted it, holding it in the air. ‘Such as?’

She named a few things the girls were especially fond of, trying to keep the list of desserts to a minimum, for both Fern and Ivy favoured sweets the most.

He nodded. ‘See that those are served.’

‘Are you suggesting they join us for all meals?’ she asked, just for clarification.

‘Yes, unless for some reason you feel they shouldn’t.’

She nodded. ‘Very well.’

He stared at her for a long, silent moment, then said, ‘Nothing has changed between us. We are still partners and might as well be as comfortable as possible.’

Although she wasn’t completely sure what he meant, she nodded.

‘Good.’ Finishing his coffee, which he preferred over tea, in one swallow, he pushed away from the table. ‘I have some errands to see to, and I’m sure you have things you need to do.’

She did. Now that he’d given her tasks concerning changes to mealtimes, she felt more confident about something else she needed to do. Setting her napkin on the table, she rose. ‘When shall we expect you home?’

‘Not really sure,’ he said as they walked towards the doorway. ‘By the noon meal, I’d guess.’

Benjamin was in the hall and handed Luke a hat. Not his brown, brimmed American one, but a black top hat.

Luke looked at it as if disgusted, then plopped it on his head and, with a grin, he totally shocked her by planting a fast kiss on her forehead, before he walked down the hall and out the door.

The spot his lips had touched was tingling, and she moved to the window, watching as John Moore handed him the reins to the horse he’d bought at the stable yesterday. In one swift movement, he was astride the horse and urged him into a trot. He sat straight in the saddle, balanced and moving with the horse, as he’d told her to do.

As he rounded the corner, out of sight, Aislinn closed her eyes and momentarily remembered waking up this morning to find him smiling at her. For that moment in time, she’d known a happiness that she’d never experienced. A warmth had tickled her insides, clear to her toes. Until a moment later, when she’d remembered everything that had happened yesterday. Then reality had blasted her like a winter squall.

She had never thought about marriage in the past, but now wondered why she hadn’t.

Pushing the air out of her lungs, she opened her eyes.

During her restless night, when she’d awoken more than once due to her agitated state, she had questioned what the future might hold. That, too, had been something she hadn’t considered before blurting out her idea. But the truth was, there was no use worrying about that until the guardianship was resolved.

Until then, she had other things to worry about.

Turning from the window, she squared her shoulders. Knowing the staff’s routine, for up until yesterday she had been one of them, she walked straight to the kitchen. All were there, except for Claire, who was upstairs with Fern and Ivy, and John, who was in the stable, drinking a final cup of tea before continuing with their duties of the day.

They each leaped to their feet, except for Doo, who was resting a hip against the sink counter. She wanted to tell the others to stay seated, but as the lady of the house, it was conventional that they stand in her presence.

‘Mr Carlisle and I would like to make a few additional changes,’ she said, flinching slightly at the need to sound so superior in front of people she considered equals, friends. ‘Going forward, Fern and Ivy will take their meals with us in the dining room, unless otherwise instructed.’

There were slight bows of acknowledgement, but only Gabe spoke. ‘Yes, my lady.’

‘There is no need for formal addresses, for either Luke or myself, unless guests or visitors are present.’ She and Luke hadn’t discussed that, but she knew his preference. ‘It’s our most ardent hope that the Court of Chancery will accept the late Duke of Havenbrook’s final wishes, as stated in his will, in which he requested Luke to be guardian of Fern and Ivy. I firmly believe that each of you have that hope, too.’

She waited for them to silently agree. They all did. Filled with a competency that she hadn’t known was inside her, she continued, ‘I want you all to know that there was no coercion in our decision to wed. We both entered into our marriage willingly. I believe that all of us, either those who knew him before he left for America, or came to know him through his letters, have great affection for Luke. I certainly do, and I’m convinced Fern and Ivy will have the best life possible under his care.’

Again, she gazed around the room, meeting each person’s gaze and holding it for a moment. All she’d said was true, and each person in the room gave a nod in agreement with her. It was quite remarkable how easily the words were coming to her. ‘As you know, Percy and Hazel are challenging Luke, and I have a suspicion that they may arrive in London soon. They are using everything they can against Luke and may have recruited others to seek out additional information. Therefore, I want this house known as a loving, caring place, in all aspects, and am imploring each of you to assist me.’

‘Of course,’ Mary Ann said, glancing at the others as they nodded.

Mary Ann, along with Gabe, had been at the house long before anyone else, and Aislinn had determined that she would need the housekeeper’s help the most. She stepped forward and laid a hand on Mary’s Ann’s arm. ‘I will need you to teach me everything I need to know about running this house, because you all know that I’ve never been trained for such duties. But I can’t let Luke down. I can’t fail him.’ Tears formed, because she was speaking earnestly. ‘I just can’t.’

Puffing her plump bosom like a hen, Mary Ann’s wrinkled, yet kind, face grew even more tender and sincere. ‘You won’t fail him. None of us will let that happen.’

Over the course of the next several hours, Aislinn became educated in domestic responsibilities, including overseeing daily activities, household accounts, menus and other matters that would require her attention. All of which she felt confident in her ability to master.

She was also provided with interesting bits of family history that she made mental notes to retain, so she could someday tell Fern and Ivy.

By the time she was informed that Luke had arrived home, she was convinced that no one would find fault in the household or its management.

In the front parlour with Mary Ann, for they had been inspecting the condition of the rugs, Aislinn took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her breast to calm the increased beat of her heart.

Mary Ann touched her arm. ‘The most important thing for a lady to remember about running a house is that she’s doing so for the right reasons. To make her husband proud and love him through thick and thin.’

A sudden, dreadful uneasiness struck Aislinn directly in the pit of her stomach. Managing a household was one thing, something she could learn, but no one could teach her how to pretend their marriage was real. She’d seen the way the old Duke and Duchess had looked upon each other, how they’d responded to each other in conversations. There had been love between them. Though she had great admiration for Luke, and affection, as she’d admitted to the staff, he didn’t feel the same way. Nor could she expect him to.

With parting words about seeing that lunch was ready to be served, Mary Ann left the room, and moments later, Aislinn heard the housekeeper greet Luke and inform him that she was in the front parlour.

She lifted her chin and pulled up a smile as she faced the doorway.

Her smile slipped, then disappeared entirely, at the stern set of Luke’s lips when he appeared.