“I am a duke,” he said. “I should be able to do as I wish.”

“You know a high position brings responsibilities,” Cecelia replied, and then thought she sounded horridly prim.

“I do now.”

“We must get on with clearing out Tereford House.” It was only the truth, though she didn’t relish being the prosaic one. Must she always be? And yet the tasks ahead nagged at her. She tried to estimate how long the sorting would take. “And you said your uncle’s former man of business sent boxes of documents.”

James groaned, a bit theatrically.

“As well as all those piled up in the library.”

“Oh my God.” He pulled his hand away. “Very well. We will go back. I suppose we could stay with your father for a while.”

“No.”

“You don’t wish to do that?”

“I do not! Aunt Valeria would try to push the household duties back on me. In fact, I would wager a good deal that she’d urge us to remain, so that I take them up again. And the servants would encourage her, I imagine.”

“Poor Cecelia. You are far too competent. Everyone wants you to do their work.”

The remark came with a smile and a caress, as though it was a joke. But was it? James had married her for this precise reason. A few days’ idyll didn’t change that fact, and she shouldn’t forget it. James would be expecting her to take up the burdens of the dukedom. “The season will be ending soon. There will be many houses coming available in London.”

“I suppose we could go to a hotel for a while, though we will be rather cramped.”

“Yes, good, and then we will hire a furnished house to use until Tereford House is ready. It needn’t be grand.”

“Whatever you think,” James replied. His attention had wandered to his breakfast.

“You will leave the choice to me?”

“Of course.”

Of course he would. This was the real beginning of their marriage, Cecelia thought. The reality of it wasn’t towers and gardens and sated honeybees. She would settle down to work, and James would no doubt resume his indolent habits, with an occasional objection to the decisions she’d made when he had paid no attention to the process. This picture gave her a sinking feeling. But she’d known about it beforehand. She had nothing to complain of; she arranged this life herself. And look at all she’d gained!

***

They drove back to town the following day in the same carriage that had brought them. Cecelia had not realized that the vehicle and driver had waited on their convenience. “Your friend did not need his carriage?” she asked James as they started out.

“He has several.”

He was as careless of this friend as of the one who owned the tower. He seemed to take no thought for their needs. Watching his handsome profile against the passing countryside outside the carriage window, Cecelia felt a wisp of apprehension about the future.

James engaged quarters for them at Brown’s Hotel, a fine parlor and bedchamber as well as rooms for her maid and Ned, who were duly summoned. Cecelia immediately wrote to the efficient man of business who had helped her manage her father’s affairs, and he called on them within hours, offering polite felicitations on their marriage. When Mr. Dalton heard that he was being asked to aid in management of a dukedom, he could scarcely contain his elation. He assured them that his firm was quite capable of handling the larger business.

“Matters are in quite a tangle,” said James.

“We would be more than happy to put them in order, Your Grace,” the slender, brown-haired man assured him.

“We should send him those boxes,” James said to Cecelia.

“I think we must look through them first,” she replied.

James’s impatient gesture was familiar to both of his companions. They had seen it many times over the years of the trust. Dalton didnotthrow Cecelia a commiserating glance. He was far too circumspect for that. He’d always been careful to keep his opinions to himself. It was one of the traits that led Cecelia to trust in his discretion. He did promise to find suitable houses available for rent in London and bring Cecelia a list of candidates. He then went on his way with a bounce in his step.

Cecelia next sent notes to her close friends, letting them know she was back. She also encouraged James to pay a visit to his club, which would accomplish the same thing. Word of their arrival would spread. It was time to take up the duties of society.

James had gone out as instructed when a hotel servant informed Cecelia that she had visitors. Three young ladies, the maid said, handing over cards. Cecelia was not surprised to read the names of Charlotte, Sarah, and Harriet. She nodded, and in the next moment the three hurried in. They were dressed for walking.