Page 77 of The Viscount's Unwanted Bride
Mrs. Tubbs nodded as if this request didn’t surprise her. “What would you like changed?”
Kate picked up a piece of paper from the top of her writing table and skimmed the items of the list. “I’d like new wallpaper, preferably something in a pale shade of pink. I’d like dark blue drapes and bedclothes to match.”
“That’s easily done.” Mrs. Tubbs took the paper from Kate. “Would you rather choose your own wallpaper or have a staff member choose it for you?”
Kate considered this. “I’ll choose my own. I’ll take Margaret into South Wye to assist me.”
“Very good, my lady. In the meantime, we’ll need to shift you into another room while the changes are being made. Do you have any in particular in mind?”
When Kate shook her head, Mrs. Tubbs thought for a moment, and then her face lit up.“I have just the one.” She bustled into the corridor.
Kate followed her down the hall to another room, which was decorated in feminine shades of lilac and cream with a frilly bedspread and a painting of a rose garden on the wall. It smelled slightly musty, as if it hadn’t been aired out for a while.
Kate studied the painting, wondering at first if it was the rose garden at Blackwell Hall, but she quickly realized it wasn’t. It was still pretty, though.
“I’ll have your things moved in here temporarily, if you’re satisfied with it?” Mrs. Tubbs asked.
“That would be helpful, thank you.”
“Would you like that to be done right now?”
“Yes, please.” There was no point in delaying. If she put it off, then she might talk herself out of it, and that would only end with her continuing to be uncomfortable in the space that should be her refuge.
Mrs. Tubbs backed out of the room, leaving Kate alone. She sat on the bed, pleased to find that the mattress was reasonably soft, then flopped onto her back. Gazing up at the off-white ceiling, she hoped she wasn’t about to upset Theo. She really didn’t want to do that. Nor did she want to disrespect his former marriage.
But she was lonely and felt out of place. He’d avoided sharing a bed with her again for the past two weeks, and seemed disinterested in doing so much as laying a finger on her lest he become overwhelmed by passion and make another “mistake.” She couldn’t do much about the loneliness, so her only recourse was to address the second problem and try to make Blackwell Hall feel more like home.
She closed her eyes when they began to burn and willed herself not to cry. She’d chosen this life, and she’d done so knowing that Theo hadn’t intended to marry again. Naively, she’d thought that she would change his mind.
She supposed she could still do so, but she shouldn’t have relied on that. While she honestly believed that he cared about her—he wouldn’t be so distraught by the possibility of doing wrong by her otherwise—he was so caught up in the past that he couldn’t see what joy the future could bring if he were willing to take a risk.
A knock on the door jolted her from her reverie. She got to her feet and opened it. Samuel stood on the other side, holding her writing desk.
“Can I bring this in, my lady?” he asked with a respectful bob of his head.
“Of course.” She stepped aside, and he carried the desk over to place it beside the one already in the room. Kate’s was made of darker wood, while the other was paler and intricately carved with a floral design.
Samuel straightened and backed away. “Would you like your bed brought in here, or shall we put it in storage?”
“Put it into storage, please.” That would be easier than swapping the beds around. Especially since she doubted moving the bed would prove easy in the first place. “Or, if the renovations can be done without moving it, you could simply cover it and leave it there.”
He nodded, his brow wrinkled. “I’ll suggest that to Mrs. Tubbs.”
He left, and Kate sat on the chair in front of the other writing desk. She studied the floral design and traced it with her finger. Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the lid. The only thing inside was a small personal bible with a faded black cover.
She flipped through the pages, pausing when she noticed the tidy script in the margins. Whoever this had belonged to had cared enough about it to add their own thoughts about particular passages. The handwriting looked feminine, although she couldn’t be certain.
She closed the book, feeling as though she’d intruded on its owner’s privacy, but as she went to place it back inside the desk, a flower slipped from between the pages and landed on the wood.
Carefully, Kate picked the flower up between her thumb and forefinger. It must have been in there for years because it was so thin and dry that it was almost translucent. Her heart stuttered as a possibility occurred to her, and she dropped the flower as if it had burned her.
Had this bible belonged to the flower-loving Elizabeth?
She dashed to the door and called down the corridor for Mrs. Tubbs. The housekeeper emerged from the viscountess’s bedchamber, her cheeks red and one eyebrow raised.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, her tone far warmer than her expression, as Kate had learned was usual for her. The housekeeper’s features never rested in a particularly welcoming way despite her kind nature.
Kate hesitated, feeling foolish. What did it matter if she’d found Elizabeth’s bible? The woman had lived here for years. Of course traces of her personal life would remain. But she couldn’t help being curious about her. She knew a little of her from what Theo and others had said, but she wanted to know more.
