Page 19 of A Gentleman's Wife

Chapter Nine

The silence in the drawing room made it possible for Thomas to hear the pounding of his own heart in his ears. They’d already eaten their dinner, and now he sat in a comfortable armchair reading his newspaper by the fire. Marianne sat on the sofa across from him reading a book, perfectly still except for turning pages every few moments. This had become a comfortable routine for them, enjoying the quiet and each other’s company after dinner. Neither of them required much socializing, which left them content with each other. Especially considering Marianne’s confession after Henry’s wedding, Thomas was grateful she trusted him with this simple normalcy.

But he was about to ruin that peace they’d carefully constructed. The letter he’d received from his grandfather held a request that Thomas should have expected, but he didn’t want to thrust this on her so soon. Since learning of her withered hand, he’d tried to provide every accommodation, which she’d confessed how much she appreciated. But the little Thomas knew of the rare falling sickness left him feeling at a loss for how to proceed. The days since returning home gave him plenty of time to wonder on how he would manage with a wife in these conditions. It had evidently greatly hindered her relationship with her family, which made him even more determined to be sure it did not damage his relationship with her. But he didn’t know her capabilities, or how much to expect from her, or even how much she would expect from him. Since the first time they met, she’d told him she didn’t want to be a burden and she would fulfill every measure of her duty as his wife. But could she manage with this new responsibility as well?

The sound of her page turning urged him to lower his newspaper, the one he hadn’t been reading for some time, and look over at her. Her brown hair was swept back in an elegant bun, her simple evening dress a soft red color. The book rested across her lap, and while her clenched hand pressed against her stomach, her left hand held the corner of the book, fingers fiddling with the pages. How Thomas hated what he had to say, to disrupt her serenity. He only hoped, after all the arranging between both their families and forcing her to be a gentleman’s wife, he did not want her to regret marryinghim.

Thomas cleared his throat and lowered his paper, easily drawing her attention. “How is your book?” he asked lightly.

“It’s lovely, just a collection of poetry.” She shrugged. “Do you enjoy poetry?”

“I do, at times. Not the terribly gloomy sort, though.”

Marianne smiled at this. “I am the same. Though perhaps you have enough gloom in your papers?” She motioned toward the newspaper in his hands.

“Indeed. Enough to go around and then some.” He folded the newspaper and set it aside. “Now that you’ve been here at Primrose House for some time, I find myself wondering how you’re feeling. If you’ve settled in sufficiently to feel comfortable.”

“Oh yes,” she said. “It’s rather enjoyable, actually, to be so involved with the day to day of the house. Mrs. Bamber has been an excellent help to me, and I believe I’ve found my footing with the responsibilities of the house.” Then her smile fell. “Why? Has she said otherwise?”

Thomas shook his head swiftly. “No, no. I’ve not asked, and she’s not reported. I only wanted your honest feelings on the matter.”

She nodded but did not immediately return to her peaceful state.

“And you have enough time in your day for your own ventures and pastimes?”

Marianne looked up curiously. “I… I suppose I have. Only it’s been so long since I’ve had ventures of my own, it might take me some time to remember what they were.”

“Of course. You’re welcome to spend your personal time just as you wish. And if there’s anything you’re unsure of, please do not hesitate to ask. I want to be sure you’re comfortable here in your home.”

“Why do you ask?” Marianne let the pages of her book flutter closed.

Thomas folded his hands in front of him and let out a deep breath. “I received a letter from my grandfather this afternoon, asking about your availability. He had given us time before presenting his request, assuming we’d have taken time to honeymoon somewhere,” here she flushed, so Thomas went on, “But seeing as how we visited Henry and Emma’s wedding instead, the time has passed regardless.”

“What is his request?” she asked.

He could not delay any longer. “Are you feeling up to hosting a ball?”

Any natural color immediately drained from her pretty face, and Thomas willed the words back into his mouth.

“Is that something that would be expected of me?” Her voice was small, but she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

Thomas nodded. “It is customary in the village when one of the wealthy sons or daughters have wed, that the family host a ball. This is my ancestral home, and many in the community have known me since I was in leading strings, so it would be commonplace for the newlywed heir to welcome everyone to a homecoming event of sorts. Friends both local and abroad would attend, and it would be rather fitting for those who were unable to attend the wedding itself.”

“I see.” She pressed her lips together and glanced away, as if weighing his words against her discomfort.

“But it needn’t be for some time yet if you’d like time to prepare and find your footing.” Thomas hoped he offered a portion of relief, but she indicated nothing.

She simply inhaled and nodded. “I will speak to Mrs. Bamber about the details and let you know when we decide on a date. I suppose you and your grandfather will have a list of guests you’d like to include?”

“Yes, and you’re welcome to invite any friends or family you’d like as well.”

“You are kind to say so. I have no friends, other than Eliza and my father’s doctor, but I’m sure he’s much too busy for such a trivial thing. And I will invite my family, but they most assuredly will not come.”

It pained Thomas, but he knew it to be true.

“Thank you for the forewarning. I will do my best to see that this ball is prepared and executed to your grandfather’s standards.” Picking up the book in her lap, Marianne stood. “I believe I will retire now.”

“Marianne,” Thomas began, and his use of her name seemed to bring a little color back to her cheeks as she paused her retreat. “I hope you know that this event is also meant to be enjoyable, something to look forward to. And not just for the guests, but for you as well.”

She seemed to understand what he was trying to do, for she gave him a false smile. “Perhaps the events after this, but the first will undoubtedly be a trial by fire.”

“Then please, feel free to rely on me whenever you need to make it as easy as possible. I will help you in any way I can.”

Marianne nodded with a curtsy and walked out of the drawing room.

The fire crackled beside him, leaving Thomas alone with the silence again. He would probably go to bed himself, as well, but for the first time in months, he would not go to bed longing for Lady Finley, for his thoughts were now consumed with his wife.

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