Adrian lifted his chin, motioning to the far side of the coach. “Middlecrest Abbey is just beyond.”
Thick forest cluttered the window for several seconds before opening up to a lush, rolling landscape generously spotted in wildflowers and small shrubs, which soon flattened to a sheet of manicured lawns. The carriage followed the hedgerow before turning along the base of a small hill, where I got my first unobstructed view of my new home.
Breathtaking. The rectangular, storied structure stood artfully symmetrical, adorned by stretched chimneys and white carved gables, balanced on all sides by the hands of a masterful gardener. My heart deserted me. Perhaps I had been a bit hasty in my earlier assessment of the arrangement. A lovely house could certainly help me tolerate a pair of willful daughters.
It took several minutes to navigate the road that led to the front portico, and I kept my eyes fixed to the structure for the whole of the approach. The horses drew us to a staggered halt, and slowly I turned back to Adrian, who seemed pleased by my wonder. He motioned to the door. “Our country seat. I hope you approve.”
Regardless of how the marriage had come about, I couldn’t help but take a small delight in the word our. I’d not had a place of my own since my parents passed on, and the magnificent structure before me was beyond anything I could have imagined. His word choice continued to dance around in my mind as I accepted his outstretched arm and descended the coach’s steps one at a time.
Across the front drive, Adrian passed Isaac to a young maidservant, instructing her to put him down to nap, before leading me to the group awaiting us near the front door.
An elderly man dropped his watch fob and stepped forward to meet us. “My lord, my lady. So good to have you home. Your daughters are awaiting you in the drawing room.”
Adrian smiled wide, a sense of pride evident in his eyes. “Thank you, Young.” Then to me. “Young here is butler at Middlecrest, and”—he pointed to a thin, fragile-looking creature lurking beside the man—“Mrs. Coombs, our housekeeper. The two of you shall have much to discuss in the days ahead.” He nodded to the two of them. “Will you see that Lady Torrington’s things are delivered to the blue bedchamber?” Adrian spun toward the door, but I was a step behind and in the perfect position to catch a momentary flash of astonishment glint in the older woman’s face.
She started forward, then lifted a quivering hand, her fingers curving and extending like a small claw before retreating to her side. “You cannot mean the blue bedchamber, my lord?”
He paused. “As I said.”
I felt his arm stiffen as he drew me away, waiting to speak till we’d climbed the steps. “I daresay you will feel much better once you have a cup of tea in your hands.” His voice, however, was at odds with the lingering tension. “We won’t remain long in the drawing room. My daughters will understand.”
His steps were assured, his smile encouraging, but the housekeeper’s rapid movement had set me on edge. I narrowed my eyes. The bedchamber in question would have been in all likelihood his first wife’s, but why the hesitation from the housekeeper after so many years? Was it me? Did she disapprove already? Though subtle, something lay hidden within that unsteady voice, something more than the awkward arrival of the second wife. A wriggling prickle scaled my back as I gripped Adrian’s arm, and the elation I’d felt driving through Middlecrest’s gates faded to uncertainty.
Adrian thrust open the large front door and led me into a squarish room, elongated by white plastered walls and a tall ceiling. A scrolled fireplace ran along one side and flanked a wide, curving staircase. For an instant the house stood motionless, as if holding its breath to appraise me; the atmosphere was so still and hollow that if I called out, I thought I would receive an echo back.
Adrian’s deep voice warmed the air. “The drawing room is right this way.”
We navigated an extensive hallway ornamented by paintings, white wainscoting, and a long, thick rug before Adrian drew us to a halt and leaned close to my ear.
“I know we are practically strangers, but throughout this entire ordeal I have detected your good sense. A quick greeting and then we shall make our escape.”
I nodded, but he didn’t release my arm.
“Everything about this situation is uncomfortable, and I know you have been under a great deal of stress, but I need a little more familiarity from you than you were able to manage at the wedding.”
I flinched. “Familiarity?”
He turned me to face him, his hands on my shoulders. “If our story is to be believed, I ran away from home a week before my daughter’s wedding to marry you. I went against years of my own declarations that I would remain a bachelor forever because I have fallen in love with you. Don’t you see, my daughters know me better than anyone. I cannot do this without your help.”
Defeat laced my sigh. “I understand.”
“Do you?” His eyes were sharp. “Whoever was transporting that missive is still out there, possibly harboring suspicion of whether I was really in your carriage to marry you. I have put everyone in this house in danger, including you and your son. It is imperative that we convince them this was a love match. Everything hinges on the next few moments.”
I met his eyes and my muscles tightened. “You are not alone in this. I will do my part.”
His fingers encircled mine, and he whispered a hurried “Thank you” before pushing the door ajar.
A collective murmur christened our entrance, followed by a rustle of movement as the two occupants made their way across the well-lit room. Empty stares accompanied wide eyes as the younger of the girls slid on her spectacles.
The taller one smiled as she came forward and was promptly embraced. “Papa, we are so pleased you have returned.”
She slanted a glance at me as she stepped back, and I smiled, expecting her to do so in return. However, she did not lift her tight gaze. Adrian had been right. His daughters were already scrutinizing me. I swallowed hard.
Adrian wasted no time enacting the charade, his natural charm and wide-eyed affection for me springing to life. Like a doting suiter, he kept me close, his hand so tight against mine the warmth tingled my skin. It was all so easy—for him. I belatedly fumbled to produce the loving regard my new husband thought imperative to our safety.
Though I batted my lashes and affected a loving smile, not even the merest acquaintance of mine would have thought my affections real. Yet as I forced myself to look up and meet Adrian’s clear blue eyes, my heart betrayed me for one full beat of silence. Goodness, I’d stared at my husband several times in the last two days, but had I ever done so in just this way? Here was the rake Brook had warned me about, the one who could sway any woman’s heart. And I had gone off and married him.
Quickly I turned back to the ladies, hoping to appear at ease yet at the same time anxious to meet them. I took a measured breath and allowed my heartbeat to return to a more manageable rate. Why were men always so good at deceit?
A squeeze of my fingers and Adrian motioned to the young lady he’d embraced. “My eldest, Juliana.”
Deep-brown curls lay atop a heart-shaped face. She remained poised as she deemed a nod, but her eyes betrayed the hint of discomfort. “Welcome to our home.”
I thought the words stilted, yet I was glad she produced some sort of a greeting.