Harry shook his head. “There will be no ball. Please, do not speak of it again.”

Bridget would not be discouraged, not even by his stern tone, and she demanded, “Why? It might improve your relationship with the tenants.”

“Oh, believe me, the tenants will hate me even more for hosting a ball. Not when I have not reduced their rent.”

“Then they do not deserve your kindness,” she said. “I do not know you well, Harry, but I know you would have reduced the rent if you could.”

Harry looked at her in surprise. She had an entirely different opinion of him than he thought she would. And now he was beginning to believe that someone truly was provoking his tenants to be against him.

Chapter 11

Bridget stared out her window as Sarah prepared a bath for her. She had not been able to forget the disbelief she saw in Harry’s eye when she told him that she thought him handsome.

She did not know what his other eye looked like beneath the black patch, but the scar that ran from the top of his brow down to his jaw told a tale of great pain and suffering, which tugged at her heart every time she thought about it. She understood some of the reasons for his changing moods and his fear of being seen, and wanted for nothing less than to help him.

He had told her not to expect him for dinner because he would be at the brewery with Mr. Belmont, and Bridget felt bereft. She enjoyed his company, especially when he teased her. Whenever he smiled, something within her would brighten, and whenever he was near, she wished to be closer.

What she thought was mere concern for him was much deeper, and Bridget was filled with the need to truly understand her husband and bring him comfort. He did not need to hide from her.How does she begin to make him see that?

Sarah’s voice tore into her thoughts. “The bath is ready.”

Bridget nodded and stood. “I think I still have some mud in my hair,” she said as she settled into the warm water.

“Well, you did not allow me to completely clean it earlier,” Sarah complained with a small laugh.

“I could not keep the duke waiting,” she returned.

“Did you have a good swim?” Sarah asked in a low voice, an odd look in her eyes as she poured some water on Bridget’s hair.

“I…yes.” Sarah seemed to have expected her to say more, but she did not. “Is something the matter?”

“Not at all,” Sarah assured. “It is only that the servants are talking.”

“What about this time?”

“You and the duke. They believe your marriage was consummated at the stream.”

Bridget sat up abruptly, nearly slipping into the water. “What ever gave them that notion?”

“Nothing happened?” Sarah asked.

“I would not brood by my window if something had occurred, Sarah.” Bridget wished the rumors were true, however. Her desire for her husband was growing.

“He walked back with you in his arms, a smile on his face,” Sarah said, rubbing soap into her hair. “Certainly, there is much to be collected from that. Some of the servants had never seen him smile before today. You are changing him, and we are happy about it.”

“We?” Bridget opened her eyes to look at her friend.

“Yes, we. They speak freely with me now.”

This made Bridget ask a question she had pondered for a while. “Are you happy here, Sarah?”

“Yes, I am. My chambers are very comfortable, and Mrs. Piper is very kind.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

After dinner and an hour in the drawing room in Belinda’s company, Bridget retired for the day. She waited, listening for sounds from Harry’s chambers to know if he had returned.

She grew weary and fell asleep eventually, which was quite comfortable until a loud crash sent her bolting upright, her heart racing.