Page 30 of Not his Marchioness
“That’s a shame.” Aunt Eugenia tutted. “I had hoped…” she trailed off, waving a hand. “Well, never mind.”
“In any case,” Marianne said, “I think it’s something you ought to discuss with him.”
“I have discussed it with him.” Charlotte finished her wine just as a lady in deep plum silk approached.
“Well, well, Lady Ravenscar,” Lady Swanson greeted.
Charlotte blinked. It took her a moment to realize that she was Lady Ravenscar now. No matter how often she heard it, she could not think of herself as such.
“Thank you for inviting me,” the woman continued. “I wasn’t sure I’d be on the guest list.”
“Why not?” Charlotte asked. “You’re the godmother of my husband’s dearest friend, no?”
“Yes, I am. But I thought, given that my home played a certain… role in your current predicament, perhaps it might be uncomfortable.”
Charlotte paused, then offered a smile. “But your home is what brought us together,” she said, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Well, I’m pleased, regardless. And even more pleased to hear that you and your husband will be attending my birthday celebration in May.”
“Your… birthday?” Charlotte echoed.
That was months away. She and Rhys had agreed to appear at a few balls and promenades immediately after the wedding, but surely by May, they’d convince Society of their blissful union and could retreat into blessed invisibility.
And he was already making plans for them? Without consulting her?
Every alarm in her head rang at once. Perhaps her sisters and aunt were right. Perhaps he was already looking to change their agreement.
She could not allow that. She would not.
After the last guest had departed and the clinking of glasses faded into silence, Charlotte stepped into the parlor.
Rhys sat with his feet propped on a small table, a ledger open in his lap.
“I thought you didn’t read,” she said.
He looked up. “I don’t. This isn’t for entertainment. It’s a household ledger. I wanted to see how much it costs to have the house fully staffed.”
“I see.” She lingered.
He set the ledger aside and tilted his head. “Is there something I can help you with, Lady Ravenscar?”
“I wondered why you haven’t shown me around the house.”
“A tour?” he asked, his eyes widening. “You’re requesting a tour?” His voice held the faintest edge of mockery.
“Well, I thought that was what a gentleman does when a lady moves into his house.”
“You have eyes. And feet. Nothing’s stopping you from exploring on your own. But if you require my assistance…” He rose and gestured for her to walk ahead.
How gallant.
She had hoped to subtly remind him of their agreement during a proper tour. But, clearly, he was determined to be impossible.
They walked down the corridor together, peeking into various rooms. For a townhouse, the place wasimmense, far larger than she had assumed.
“What else have I been wrong about?” she muttered under her breath. “I cannot believe a house this size doesn’t have a library.”
“It used to,” he revealed. “But since I don’t read, I had all the books moved to the country estate. Of course, many of them are back here now. Would you like to see?”
