Chapter 13

"My goodness, this is much larger than I expected," Tamsin said with awe as Isaac helped her from the coach into the midafternoon sunlight. "It's beautiful."

Isaac couldn't deny a sense of pride as he watched her survey the facade of Wood End. The part she was looking at featured a steep, gabled roofline as well as timbered beams and a bricked front entrance. Why he should feel proud of something he'd merely had the fortune to inherit he didn't know, but there it was. He took his duty as baron very seriously. Indeed, it was the thing that had given his life a distinct purpose. Without it, he would likely have been a successful barrister, perhaps even rising to a position within the government as Price had done, but this was something more. Something that was entirely in his care. It was no wonder he worked so hard to ensure it didn't falter.

"When was it built?" she asked as he escorted her to the door, which was being held open by Blunt, the butler.

"The original house was erected in 1603—the year Queen Elizabeth died. It has been expanded twice, most recently about thirty years ago when my grandfather added the ballroom." Isaac glanced over at her. "Which I never use."

She laughed softly. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Perhaps we'll change that. If you're amenable. Did you spend much time here as a child?" she asked.

"Not until my uncle, the baron, invited me to stay just before he sent me to Oxford to study. He thought it was terrible my father hadn't brought me round."

"Why didn't he?"

Isaac shrugged. "My father didn't like to speak of his family, let alone see them. He said they were too hedonistic, that they would not understand his simple life. He chose to mostly ignore them. Even so, he eagerly accepted my uncle's offer to send me to Oxford. But he did so because he expected I would follow his path into the church."

"But you did not."

He shook his head. "Much to my father's annoyance, I was admitted to the Inns of Court and became a barrister instead."

They'd arrived at the door, and Isaac inclined his head toward Blunt, a man of middling height with a stout midsection and impossibly slender legs. He possessed a serious, dedicated nature, and Isaac had found him indispensable since the moment he'd arrived.

The butler bowed to Tamsin. "Welcome to Wood End, Lady Droxford. It is my esteemed privilege to be the first to congratulate you and his lordship." Blunt extended his bow to Isaac.

"Thank you, Blunt," Tamsin said warmly. She'd asked Isaac to tell her the names of all the retainers. Except, Isaac couldn't recall every name. The scullery maid was Janet or Judith, and the footmen were Arthur or Alfred and Matthew or Melvin. He'd given her the names he could remember—Blunt; the housekeeper, Mrs. Jennings; the cook, Mrs. Corwin; and his valet, Milner. And, of course, the steward, Edwin Seales.

Blunt's usually stoic features flickered with unease, immediately putting Isaac on alert. "Ah, before we go inside, I must inform you of a sudden temporary change to the household."

"Is all well?" Isaac asked.

"Mrs. Jennings has gone to care for her sister, who has suffered a fall. She feels terrible that she is not here to greet her ladyship." Blunt gave Tamsin an apologetic look. "However, she has arranged for Sophia, Lady Droxford, to come and provide guidance in her absence. She hopes to only be gone a fortnight."

While Isaac was surprised by this turn of events, he was glad Mrs. Jennings went to help her sister and had requested his aunt's presence. "Aunt Sophia is here already?"

Blunt nodded. "She arrived yesterday, my lord."

Tamsin turned to Isaac. "Is she not the Dowager Lady Droxford? I want to be sure I address her correctly."

"She is not a dowager because I, as the current title holder, am not a direct descendant of her husband. She is Sophia, Lady Droxford. Though, I daresay she will ask you to call her Aunt Sophia. You will find her quite friendly."

"Wonderful," Tamsin said with a smile.

They moved into the entrance hall, where all the household retainers had gathered. They stood in a line, as they'd done the day Isaac had arrived after inheriting the title. His Aunt Sophia was there today as she'd been on that day too. Except, this time, she was not draped in black crepe, but a pretty violet.

Isaac also felt different than he had on that day, which had been one of the most uncomfortable of his life. How was he to know how to be a baron?

He could ask himself a similar question today—how was he to know how to be a husband?

Sophia moved toward them, her gaze landing on Isaac before moving warmly to Tamsin. "Welcome to Wood End, Lady Droxford."

"Thank you. I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance," Tamsin said. "Thank you for coming in our time of apparent need."

"I am more than happy to help." Smiling, she took Tamsin's hands in her own. "I know precisely how you must be feeling. You're a new wife with much to learn before you. I'm so pleased I could be here to guide you."

"Honestly, I am too," Tamsin said before Sophia released her hands.

"You must call me Aunt Sophia as my nephew does." She pivoted. "Now, it is time for you to meet everyone."

Isaac watched as Tamsin greeted the retainers, spending time speaking to each of them. She charmed them all, just as Isaac had expected, spending extra time with the maid who'd been promoted to serve as her lady's maid. While they spoke, Aunt Sophia made her way back to Isaac.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm here. I can imagine you must want time with your new bride. I will make myself scarce. Indeed, I can dine in my chambers." She gave him a knowing smile.

Except she didn't know. She likely assumed their marriage was as close and loving as hers had been with his uncle, or so she'd told him. Isaac had barely seen them together, having met his uncle only a handful of times.

"I don't mind at all," Isaac replied. "I'm grateful for your presence, and I know Tamsin is too. Please don't concern yourself with leaving us alone. I will be quite busy catching up on work since I've been traveling."

Surprise dashed across her expression. "I did notice that you'd rearranged the baron's suite. I checked it earlier to ensure all was ready. Won't you miss the bathing and dressing room?"

While Isaac had appreciated having a well-appointed space for his toilet, it was more important that he and Tamsin have separate bedrooms. "No."

"I also learned that you've designated the baron's chamber—the one your uncle and I shared—as your wife's." Her brow gently furrowed. "Is that wise? I wonder if your bride might not feel more comfortable in the smaller chamber. It was, after all, the lady's chamber before we converted it. And the furnishings are much more feminine."

Isaac had wanted to give Tamsin the larger and more finely appointed of the two rooms. Hers had the more comfortable bed, and the furnishings were complementary. The smaller bedchamber had been assembled with a mismatch of furniture from various rooms in the house. They were things that appealed to Isaac for one reason or another without concern for how it looked. He hadn't thought that the decor appeared feminine.

"I hadn't considered that," Isaac replied. He would see what Tamsin said about the apartment.

"You could add a bathing and dressing chamber if you cared to," Aunt Sophia suggested. "You could use some of the sitting room and just make that smaller. It would be an undertaking, but quite worth it. Or, perhaps you and Lady Droxford will decide to share a bedchamber as your uncle and I did. It didn't take us long to realize we were well suited." She gave him a small smile before moving to join Tamsin and her maid.

Isaac, of course, could not explain that he'd never planned to get married and now found himself in an impossible situation. He'd been feeling better about things after telling Tamsin of his expectations and the return to their friendship. However, now he feared he'd consigned them both to a lifetime of awkwardness, at best, or even disappointment.

As the retainers dispersed, Blunt asked if dinner at half six would be acceptable. Isaac looked to Tamsin and after a brief pause during which she clearly realized she should answer, she said yes.

"You'll become accustomed to your new duties," Aunt Sophia said with a light chuckle. "Do you want to tour the ground floor now, or would you prefer to go straight to your apartment?"

"I think I'd like a fresh costume," Tamsin responded, glancing down at herself. "I'm feeling a little travel worn."

"That is most sensible," Aunt Sophia said. "If you'd like to come down to the drawing room about an hour before dinner, I'd be happy to take you about."

Tamsin smiled. "Thank you, I would like that. And truly, I can't thank you enough for being here. I'm sure it was a great comfort to the housekeeper to know things would be in capable hands."

"Very soon, your hands will be just as capable." Aunt Sophia winked at her.

Isaac offered Tamsin his arm. "Shall we go up?"

She clasped his arm, and he guided her into the staircase hall. As they ascended the staircase, she asked about the paintings adorning the walls. There were several landscapes but also a series of paintings depicting Isaac's great-grandfather's favorite horse and dogs. "He loved animals, apparently," Isaac said in response to Tamsin's question as to whether the four paintings depicted the same animals, for they looked alike.

Tamsin smiled. "Those animals in particular, I'd say. That's sweet."

They moved from the staircase into the gallery that spanned the entire first floor. She asked him about the portraits they passed, and he admitted he'd forgotten most of their names, just that they were ancestors.

When they neared the southeast corner, he opened the door to their shared sitting room. Decorated in greens and blues, the room offered a seating area as well as a small table at which they could dine, if they chose. Isaac had never done so, because he didn't wish for the servants to work that hard fetching his dinner all the way up here. He could just as easily dine downstairs, which was much closer to the kitchen.

"This is so grand," she said, looking about the room, her head tipping back slightly as she took in the high ceilings.

Isaac gestured to the left where the baron's room was located. He really ought to start thinking of it as his wife's chamber. "Your chamber is through there."

She walked to the door, and he hastened to push it open for her. Stepping inside, she sucked in a breath. "Surely this must be the baron's chamber?"

The wide four-poster hung with deep blue velvet hangings sat atop a dais his grandfather had constructed. He'd enjoyed fine things and preferred everything to excess. Perhaps that was why Isaac's father hadn't been close to him, since he'd eschewed such luxury for more basic items.

Isaac stood to the side as she walked farther into the room. "It is, but I wanted you to have it because it's more comfortable, particularly the bed."

"That is awfully kind of you," she said, looking from the bed to the pair of chairs situated before the hearth where a low fire burned. She walked to the other side of the room where three windows overlooked the rear parkland. Between them stood a tall dresser and a dressing table with mirror.

She went to the latter and ran her hand over the top of the wood. "This does not look as though it belongs to the baron."

"No, that is for the lady." It had been in the dressing room, which was now his bedchamber.

Pivoting, she inclined her head toward a door in the corner. "Where does that lead? A dressing chamber?"

There was a small room between the two bedchambers that had once been used for dressing. "It could be, though it's not very large." He went to open the door for her.

She stepped inside and glanced toward the tall armoire to the right. High on the left wall was a small window that provided light.

Another door stood before them. She paused in front of it. "And this door?"

"Through there is my chamber," he said.

Looking over her shoulder at him, she asked, "May I?"

"Certainly."

She opened the door and walked into his bedchamber, which he'd furnished with a dresser that had been in the baron's chamber, along with most of the contents of a bedchamber farther down the gallery. Isaac had tested several beds before settling on this one. While he'd found it to be the most comfortable, he supposed it was femininely dressed with pale yellow and dusky rose bedclothes.

"This is pretty," she said, glancing toward the bed on her way to the hearth where there was a high-backed chair covered in dark green fabric with a gold pattern. "But your chair doesn't match. You need something pink." When she turned to face him, he saw the teasing glint in her eyes.

"That chair is very comfortable," he said. "However, you may be right about the color being wrong."

She laughed softly, then her brow furrowed gently. "This looks like the lady's room, except that everything is mismatched." She moved toward the dresser. "This seems to belong with the furnishings in the other room."

"Er, yes. I had it moved in here because I'm used to it. If you'd prefer to have it in your chamber, I can return it and take the one we moved in there."

"The one that's in there doesn't seem to match this bed," she said. "I'm just surprised that the lady's room would not be as well appointed as the baron's. Wouldn't your aunt have overseen all the decoration and ensure it matched?"

Blast.He hadn't wanted to explain that he'd converted this room back to a bedchamber. But why should it matter? They had a perfectly logical reason for needing two bedchambers. "Aunt Sophia and her husband shared a bedchamber—the room you will be using. They used this chamber for dressing and bathing."

Her eyes rounded briefly before she gave a quick nod of understanding. "You've moved other furniture here to create a bedchamber for yourself. Because we'll be sleeping separately."

"Yes." Just as they'd done during their journey from Cornwall. Though it had been necessary, it had been awkward, or even wrong. They were married, and on their wedding night and the nights thereafter, they'd gone to their separate beds. Isaac had lain awake each night wishing he could just hold her, but he wasn't ready to tell her the truth, to expose himself so she could decide if she wanted him in return.

Separate beds would be absolutely necessary. Perhaps for a long time.

"You went to a great deal of trouble," she said softly. "Thank you. Especially for giving me the larger room. I really wouldn't mind taking this one. The bedclothes do seem more appropriate for me."

"I can't argue with you there; however, I insist you take the larger room." He was trying to be thoughtful.

"Wasn't this the lady's chamber originally? Before your aunt and uncle refurbished it?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Then I should have it," she said firmly. "Honestly, I don't mind. I'd rather you remain where you are comfortable, where you've been residing for years now."

Put like that, it did make sense. He exhaled. "I'm rather unprepared for how to behave in a marriage."

Her lips curled into a small smile. "I think you're doing just fine. But let's have the footmen exchange the dressers." She went to sit in the green chair by the hearth. "Oh, this is a comfortable chair. Perhaps I could just have it re-covered to match the bedclothes."

She wriggled on the cushion, and Isaac was struck with a sudden flash of carnal lust. He imagined her on his lap doing the same thing, and his cock began to harden.

Turning away from her, he said, "I'll do that right now. I'll also make sure your trunk is brought here and your maid knows which room is yours."

"I really do appreciate all the thought and effort you put into this." She was closer behind him, so she must have left the chair.

Hopefully, she wasn't too close, for while his body had begun to cool, Isaac wasn't convinced it would stay that way. Too many times on their journey, he'd envisioned them together—whether it was a torrid imaginary encounter in the coach or a bone-melting seduction in one of the inns where they'd stayed.

But he'd kept away from her because it was necessary. He couldn't be intimate with her without telling her what he'd done. He had to think Tamsin would despise him, that she would be eager to keep their marriage in name only.

Inhaling deeply, he willed his body to relax. He turned to face her. She was closer than he'd hoped. Close enough that it would not be terribly difficult to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Not that he would. He would just imagine it. "Your comfort is my primary concern. I know this is a big change."

"It is, but I'm ready for change, I think." She smiled again. "I'm looking forward to seeing more of the house and the estate. Will you be taking me on a tour?"

He'd explained that seeing the entire estate could take a few days or even longer, depending on how much time she wanted to spend with the tenants or investigating different areas. They could spend a few hours, at least, at the sawmill alone.

"As I've just returned after several days away, I have business to attend in my study. Aunt Sophia will guide you about the house tomorrow. Seales, the steward, can take you around the estate in a few days after you're settled."

"I'd rather go with you. I'm enjoying our rediscovered friendship."

He was too. They'd shared many lively conversations during their journey, including a discussion as to which fowl tasted better, duck or pheasant. He was firmly behind duck while she wholly endorsed pheasant. They'd also debated rain and sun. Predictably, she preferred a sunny day, while Isaac enjoyed a good rainstorm. As much as he loved talking with her, he needed to focus on work.

"Then you'll have to wait for another day," he said.

Her brow puckered faintly. "I'd also like to see the bees, but I'd prefer you take me."

"Then I shall. I will let you know when it's convenient."

Her brow creased again, but not with confusion as earlier when she'd tried to make sense of the disordered furnishings. This seemed to be something different.

"Is aught wrong?" he asked.

She flattened her brow. "No, not really."

"I hope you'll feel comfortable in telling me if anything upsets you. I did promise your father that I'd ensure your happiness."

"Did you?" She smiled again. "That's nice. I suppose I'm not very good at displaying if I'm upset, but that is likely because I rarely am. Truly, all is well."

"I'm pleased to hear it. I'll see you at dinner." He turned and went to the door.

"Isaac?"

That was the first time she'd used his given name. He'd called her Tamsin several times during their journey, and he'd said she could call him Isaac if she liked. So far, she hadn't. Why had she changed her mind now? And why did the sound of his name on her lips send a wave of heat through him?

He faced her once more, his hand on the door. "Yes?"

She stood with her hands clasped, appearing so feminine and lovely with soft brown locks brushing her temples and cheeks, her pink lips barely parted. "I wondered how long you expected our marriage to be in name only. That is, when do you anticipate wanting more than that?"

A torrent of thoughts and emotions briefly blistered through him before he tamped them down. "I haven't thought about it. We've only been wed a few days, and we've yet to settle into a routine." His voice sounded as taut as he felt. He ought to tell her the truth of why he'd put this wall between them, but he couldn't. Not yet. It seemed their secret sharing had ended with their marriage.

"I see," she responded. "I do hope you'll tell me when you're ready."

Did her queries mean she wanted more? What did she even know about the physical aspects of marriage? He assumed her to be a virgin with little knowledge, but perhaps he was wrong.

He didn't have the courage to ask, not now. At the moment, he could think of little else beyond frigging himself to find a modicum of relief, which he'd done every night since they'd wed.

In lieu of any response, he simply inclined his head before beating a hasty retreat. Once he was in his chamber, he closed the door firmly. How had he not realized there wasn't a lock? She could barge right in while he was pleasuring himself. Blast. This would not do. Where in the hell was he going to find satisfaction?

He thought of his companion at the Rogue's Den. She'd given him many nights of satisfaction, having learned his cock as well as a musician knew their instrument. Would he continue to see her now that he was wed?

The idea repulsed him. Even if their marriage remained in name only, Isaac would not betray his wife.

Was that due to the strict morality with which he was raised? Or was it because he cared too much for Tamsin?

Neither, he told himself. Tamsin deserved his faithfulness. He'd promised that, and he was, at the very least, a man of his word.