Page 34 of Not his Marchioness
“I see,” she said. “Well, he has no reason to be sleeping so late today. We both retired early yesterday, since we were so exhausted from the celebrations.”
Suzette’s face turned red, and she looked down.
Charlotte realized something. Rhys hadn’t gone to sleep early. Rather, he had gone out.
But where had he gone? And why had he lied to her and said he was fatigued?
Instantly, she bristled. They were supposed to prove to the ton that they were a devoted husband and wife so that they could, in due course, go their separate ways and live life as they pleased. If he was venturing to gaming halls or worse, that was only going to stir worse gossip.
No, this would not do. Not at all.
She had to work to establish them as a loving couple. The sooner the ton forgot about the circumstances that had brought them together, the quicker they could part ways again.
But for the time being, they had to look like the most dazzling pair in high society.
She turned to Suzette. “Will you ask the housekeeper and cook to meet me? I am planning a tea for next week.”
“So soon? We had thought you would want to enjoy your honeymoon.”
She tilted her head to the side, wondering if Suzette could be trusted.
“We will enjoy our honeymoon at home. But since we had to conduct our courtship privately, we would like to share our joy with everyone we hold dear. I shall provide you with the guest list.”
“Of course.” Suzette nodded. “When shall I arrange the meeting?”
“Noon would be wonderful,” Charlotte said. “And now I should explore the house further.”
Suzette scurried away, and Charlotte walked down the long hallway of the surprisingly large house she now called her home.
She was going to do everything in her power to make her and Rhys look like the most dazzling of pairs, even though in reality, she would have liked to chase him down with a pillow and beat some sense into him.
No, she would invite every lady of quality and ensure that Rhys was home when they arrived, so they could see them doting on one another. By the end of the tea, everyone would talk about nothing but how magnificent a hostess Lady Ravenscar was and how very much in love she and her husband appeared to be.
It was a good thing she had always been fond of acting, for this would require all the skills she had learned from watching actors and actresses on the stage.
CHAPTER 14
Two days later, Rhys returned from a meeting with his solicitor to discover his house had been quite altered.
The entrance hall had always displayed several medieval suits of armor—some collection his great-grandfather had acquired during his travels abroad. But now, they had vanished, replaced by enormous vases filled with elaborate flower arrangements.
He approached them with curiosity, wondering where on earth Charlotte had procured roses at this time of year, only to discover they were made of silk.
She certainly had no qualms about spending his money.
Merely a few days had passed since their wedding, and already she was transforming his home.
Theirhome.
He had to remind himself repeatedly that this was now their home, not his alone. Although even when it had been only his, it had never truly felt like home. Now, it felt… strange. Unsettling. Wrong, somehow.
The memory of his parents and brother had always clung to the rooms they’d occupied before their death, which was why he had closed them off.
Everything had been shut away, furniture shrouded in white cloth. Until now. He watched as maids descended from the upper floors, bearing armloads after armloads of dusty sheets. They billowed in the back garden like the surrender flags of some defeated army.
Rooms were being reopened, furniture rearranged, flowers displayed—though the blooms were as false as their marriage.
He wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about these changes. He wasn’t insulted—he had told her she might do as she wished—but neither was he delighted.
