Page 11 of Surrender Your Grace
“In time,” he began, “you’ll understand all that I expect, not only of my wife but of my viscountess. For now, your safety is paramount. So, there are a few rules I expect you to follow.”
Her husband paused, gaze steady.
“The woods aren’t tame. Last summer, three villagers barely survived adder bites. And while the village is safer than London, we do see travelers—some unsavory. Highwaymen won’t hesitate to prey on a woman alone. For that reason, you’re not to leave the manor without an escort. On foot, horseback, or carriage. Is that clear?”
“I understand, my lord. Though I’m unsure what alarms me most—highwaymen or venomous snakes.”
Her upbringing in Manchester, where forests had long been cleared for expansion, had prepared her for industry, not wildlife.
“I intend to caution, not frighten you,” he replied smoothly.
“I won’t venture out alone, my lo—uh, Andrew.”
His eyes crinkled slightly at her correction, and, for the first time since their wedding, he smiled—a rare expression that changed him from handsome to arresting.
“Life here is slower,” he continued, “but the social calendar remains active. Gossip spreads as quickly here as in Mayfair. Moving forward, I expect our names to remain absent from it. Your other duties will include managing the household and raising any children we are blessed with. If you excel, I believe we’ll find contentment.”
“I understand decorum,” she said politely. “And I’ve been schooled in household management and the domestic arts.”
It was the answer she was supposed to give. But inside, her heart dipped.
Contentment.That was his vision for them. Duty, not affection. Companionship rather than devotion. It was little wonder. He’d wanted Elizabeth. Now he must endure the sister, a placeholder in a life that had veered off course.
“I trust,” he added, unaware of her quiet shift, “you haven’t acquired any of your sister’s more unsavory habits.”
“Mama spoiled her,” she said, defending Elizabeth by instinct more than thought. “It wasn’t entirely her fault.”
“Your mother didn’t indulge you as well?”
“No.” Her voice was steady. “Elizabeth has always been the center of attention. She was meant for a grand match. Papa encouraged my studies and interests, which I appreciated. Education and hobbies aren’t always afforded to girls.”
“And marriage. What kind of match did they hope for you to make?”
She hesitated, gaze dropping to the patterned rug beneath her slippers. “Something respectable. Pleasant, maybe. Not noble—certainly not a lord. That was always Elizabeth’s fate.” Lifting her chin, she met his gaze as she told him her mother’s expectations. “I was the second daughter. Meant to be agreeable. To remain in the background. To never cast a shadow while Elizabeth was allowed to shine.”
“I see,” he said after a beat, his frown deepening. “Your father threatened your sister and mother with the cane. Was its use common in your household?”
Her cheeks flushed, hot and sudden. “That’s a rather unseemly topic, my lo—Andrew.”
“No topic is off-limits between husband and wife. I asked a question.”
She nodded, reluctantly. “Not common. But Papa had a limit. Only when Elizabeth pushed too far would he bring it out. He always knew she was behind the trouble and spared me.”
“You were never punished?”
“Well… no,” she said, everting her gaze, afraid she would ignite so embarrassing was the discussion. “I meant I was spared the cane.”
“Mm.” His hum gave little away. After a heartbeat, he shared his thoughts, however. “Your father was too lenient, which is why your sister is as she is. You’ll find I am not so cavalier.”
She stared at him, stunned. He meant to punish her—his wife, a grown woman—like a child?
“I won’t raise my voice or waste words,” Andrew continued. “My expectations are clear. So are the consequences.”
She felt heat crawler higher up her neck, and her voice quavered when she asked, “Consequences like the cane?”
His gaze held hers—not hard, but unwavering. Cici’s spine straightened instinctively. A thousand thoughts pressed forward—humiliation, disbelief, a brittle flicker of indignation. But above all, duty. She was his wife now. The rules had changed.
“Should you defy me outright,” Andrew said, his tone steady but not unkind, “I’ll not hesitate to apply correction—firm, private, but never cruel.”
