Page 37 of When She Loved Me
She pushed her soup bowl away and ignored the lamb and artichokes, sitting back in her chair to signify this course was finished. Henry thankfully understood the cue and swept in to remove these dishes. Charlie’s eyes darted to Franklin—the earl was still attending the dishes before him—and Franklin nodded an assent, which then had Charlie likewise clearing the bowl and plates before the earl, his cheeks pinkened and his eyes upon only the table. Trevor was left holding still his soup spoon as all else before him was confiscated.
He set the spoon down and looked up at Nicole, just met her eyes steadily, but then continued to stare and soon with a growing intensity that she felt suddenly quite exposed. He continued to regard her, and she wondered if he were recalling their earlier kiss. Earlier kiss? No, that language was entirely too tame to describe what had transpired between them earlier. And he was doing it again, now with his eyes, caressing her, holding her captive, forcing her breath to rush in and out that her lips parted to give her ease.
The footmen returned, and Nicole remembered where she was and closed her mouth and made to rearrange the remaining silverware in front of her. Henry was at her side then and placed several dishes before her, but she hadn’t any idea what they were. She’d witnessed and had been the recipient of several gazes from Trevor, both before and after they had married. She had glimpsed his watchful gaze and his laughing one and last year had several times observed his protective and angry glances, but she knew she had never perceived so hungry a gaze as she had just now. She felt naked and vulnerable and heated all at once. With a pretense of composure, she lifted a fork and feigned interest in the plates before her.
Having a sense about her that she needed some suitable bit of conversation that would rankle him, effectively reminding her of his mercurial moods—not one of her favorite things about Trevor—Nicole said casually, “I hope you shan’t mind muslin gowns at dinner. I will have exhausted my supply of silks in a matter of days.”
“What has become of your trousseau?” Her husband asked then, lifting his eyes from her bosom, where this silk showed more of a décolletage than her daytime muslins did.
“I gave them away,” she announced. This was very helpful, she believed, knowing he would denounce this, and tell her the Countess of Leven did not simply give things away, to the neglect of her own person. He would be angry, and it would put her on better footing with him.
But Trevor only said, “We shall have to purchase others, I suppose.”
Chapter Twelve
NICOLE ACTUALLY SLEPTin the next morning, the sun already shining by the time she opened her eyes. She’d not been able to find rest for quite some time last night, playing over and over in her mind the events of the day. But for all the time spent mulling over her present circumstances, as it regarded Trevor’s visitation to Lesser House, she was no further ahead in knowing exactly what was happening or why.
She would today make a fuss to Mrs. Abercorn over the fine dinner she’d presented last evening, though truth be told, Nicole could recall little of it. She would commend Charlie and Henry on their upstanding occupation, for she had after some time forgotten about their presence, which was a true testament to their successful employment. She wouldn’t exactly say that she had much enjoyed the evening spent with her husband, this being near impossible with so much unanswered and unknown between them, and with her being so constantly wary of the intent of each word he spoke, but it had proved so much less awful than she’d imagined.
At the end of the evening, Trevor had only said goodnight to her at the bottom of the stairs. She’d insisted to herself then, and several more times while she’d lain awake, that it was relief she felt, having staunchly struck down the disappointment she felt that he’d not even attempted to steal a kiss of any kind.
She pulled back the bed covers to rise just now when the door opened, and Lorelei peeked her head in. “Oh, very good, you’re awake, my lady.” And she entered the bedroom fully thenand placed the ewer and basin on the low cupboard. “We’ll get you dressed for breakfast.”
Nicole’s initial reaction was to balk at this, and remind the maid that she’d been successfully dressing herself since coming to the abbey, but Lorelei’s cheerful dancing around the room, humming as she swung open the wardrobe doors, precluded this, and the maid’s next words had Nicole feeling a bit guilty for having denied Lorelei her desired purpose over the past year.
“Oh, my lady, it’s all I’ve ever dreamed of doing, since I was little, being the attendant to a kind lady in a great house. I didn’t want to force myself on you, but I’m ever so grateful his lordship has come and set this to rights.”
With as much grace as she could muster now, indeed feeling particularly chastised, Nicole rose and allowed Lorelei to attend her.
Half an hour later, Nicole entered the rarely used morning room, as Lorelei had told her breakfast would henceforth be served here. She found her husband already helping himself at the sideboard, piling bacon and eggs and breads and cheeses onto his plate. He turned as she entered and bid her a good morning with a generous smile and a glance that raked her head to toe and brightened her cheeks.
Nicole smiled stiffly, one hand worrying the collar of her gown as she approached the round table, curiously set for three. She said good morning to Franklin, who nodded with a fond smile and met her at the table, just in time to pull out her chair. “I’ll bring your chocolate, my lady.”
She was really starting to believe if she heard one more ‘my lady’ she might scream.
“Good morning, my lord, my lady,” said Ian as he walked into the room.
God’s wounds! Ian, too?
“Mr. Wendell,” Trevor said in greeting, just now regaining his chair, his plate full.
Nicole sat mute, watching as Ian then sat at the third place setting and helped himself to the coffee pot in the center of the table while Trevor announced matter-of-factly, his eyes on Nicole, “I thought it a good idea to start our day with all the business of the abbey. Later, Mr. Wendell will give a tour that I might reacquaint myself with the entire property.”
Nicole’s eyes met Ian’s, saw just the flicker of unease—or was that guilt for this defection? —before he steeled his expression in such a way that Nicole read into it,this is the right way to proceed.
She schooled her own features, and her mind as well, into acceptance. She wasn’t so petty as to eschew the needs and administration of the abbey for the sake of her own satisfaction, or rather for any desire to thwart her own husband that he might then depart. She rose and attended her own plate at the sideboard, choosing only a bit of eggs and some pastry. “Where shall we begin?” she asked.
Trevor answered as Nicole regained her seat and Franklin just then set down a delicate cup and saucer, the chocolate steaming. “You both, having spent more time here in the past year than I have in my entire life, would have a fair idea about how things go along.” He sipped from his own cup and then tapped the stack of books he’d brought to the table. “It occurs to me that with all the information I’ve been handed since my father died, never have I ever been shown anything, not one piece of informationor paperwork, about Hyndman Abbey. So, let’s start at the beginning.”
Ian sighed and considered this, where to start. “The abbey is just over six thousand acres, with the manor house and parkland residing on fifty-five of these. The village, Hornfield, only stretches about two square miles, being, as you know, directly adjacent to the edge of the parkland. There are 26 tenant farmers leasing 100-acre plots and 33 farmers leasing 50 acre plots. There is a 500-acre woodland—give or take—which serves well for hunting. Now, inside the village, there are 27 buildings and 17 residences, with a total of seven being vacant.”
Nicole found her seat again and set her plate down before her. “But that doesn’t include Mr. Newson’s horse-trading plot, several acres at the north end of Hornfield. He doesn’t exactly lease it but gives a percentage of his income four times a year, when he holds the auctions. And then there’s gypsum mine, though that has been shuttered for at least a decade, we are told.”
“The mine was shuttered?” Trevor asked. “Was it tapped?”
Ian and Nicole shook their heads. Ian said, “The consensus around here is that the mine—like the sawmill and the brewery—have only fallen away due to disregard.”
Nicole explained, “When the estate began to neglect necessary repairs and upkeep, the mine was forced to shut down and the workers moved on or away. When the small lake near the sawmill dried up, there was no water to power the mill and that, too, was abandoned.”
