Page 31 of A Gentleman's Wife

Chapter Fifteen

Atrickle of water ran down the side of Thomas’s neck, and he wiped it away with the blanket about his shoulders. He stood before the fire, trying to dispel the chill that clung to him. He’d already changed into dry clothes, but it did nothing to alleviate the exhaustion in his bones. He’d talked and worked with his tenants all afternoon and let time get away from him, which is what found him caught in a downpour, and completely missing dinner with his wife and guest. By the time he’d bathed and changed, it was much too late for any of that. He would have to apologize to Marianne in the morning, think of some way to make it up to her.

A knock sounded at his bedroom door, and Thomas glanced at the grandfather clock before standing to answer. When he pulled the door open, he found Marianne, worrying her lip with her teeth, and a kitchen maid carrying a tray of tea behind her.

“What’s this?” he asked with a smile.

“Forgive the late hour.” Marianne shuffled her feet and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Collins mentioned you came in from the rain soaking wet, and I thought you might like some tea to warm you.”

“That does sound lovely. Please, come in.”

She walked in with the maid close behind, and Marianne looked around the room curiously. It did not escape his notice that he had invited his wife into his bedchambers well after dark, but her tea was such a thoughtful gesture, he couldn’t tell her no.

The maid set down the tray on his nightstand and bobbed a curtsy before seeing herself out. Thomas took a seat on the edge of his bed as Marianne poured the tea with her left hand, steadying the teapot with the fist of her right hand.

“What inspired all this?” Thomas asked softly.

Marianne did not respond right away as she prepared his tea, but when she brought him the cup and saucer, she met his gaze. “You once said that it is our mutual responsibility to take care of each other. I see all that you do for me, and for others, even today getting caught in the rain. I simply wanted to do my part in caring for you.”

Thomas sipped the warm drink and smiled. “You do more than you realize.”

She ducked her head graciously. “The hour is late, so I will leave you to rest.”

“Won’t you stay? Pour yourself a cup and chat with me?” Thomas’s own urgency surprised him. “I’d planned to give you a formal apology in the morning for missing dinner. Was Mr. Sanders quite put out?”

Marianne smiled. “Not at all. He took dinner in his room, as he said he had some business to attend.”

Thomas took another sip and said nothing, for he had an idea of what business the man might be pursuing. But the warmth of the tea was doing wonderful things for his recovery, as was Marianne’s company.

“I was curious to know,” Marianne said as she took a seat in the chair beside his bed, “which tenants you were visiting. Was there a problem that caused your delay?”

“Not a problem, exactly.” Thomas shrugged. “I’ve mentioned to you the issue all this rain causes with the crop and the harvest, haven’t I?”

She shook her head. “Not in detail, but I would like to know. Was it the Forrester’s?”

“Yes, the couple with the little girl who so adored you on our last visit.”

Marianne smiled, the glow of the fire lighting her face, and Thomas wanted to linger in this moment. Their camaraderie and friendship seemed to grow every day, and it did his heart good. She intrigued him, not in a discouraging way, but as something much more promising. Like a secret he wanted to truly understand one day, but it was worth the wait.

Suddenly, another knock sounded at the door. Collins entered the room with a silver platter. “Post for you, sir.”

Thomas picked up the letter before Collins bowed and left.

“It’s from my grandfather,” Thomas mumbled for Marianne’s sake as he opened it and read:

Thomas,

I hope this letter finds Primrose House in good health. I attended a dinner party last evening with the Earl of Slanton, and when I mentioned the upcoming ball, they had not received word of it. I understand it may be vexing for you, seeing that Lady Finley is now Lady Slanton as his wife, but we cannot afford to lose such a noble connection. Be sure they are sent an invitation for the ball.

Yours,

Horace Ramsbury

Thomas’s stomach went sour, turning over and over again. How could Grandfather ask this of him? After everything Thomas had gone through trying to get over her and forget her, after creating a happy life with Marianne and making their home a haven, now all that was to be disrupted by the one woman who had the power to ruin everything?

“What’s wrong, Thomas?”

Marianne’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Any talk of rain or harvests were naturally forgotten as she leaned forward in her chair and studied his face with grave concern.

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