Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

T heodore just stared at his wife. His stomach was knotted tight, and he no longer knew why. Was it the irritation at all that she was changing? No, that couldn’t explain all of it. Was it the fact that wherever he went, he found himself staring at her these days, even looking at her through the window when he tried to walk in the garden?

“Theodore?” Her voice softened, though she placed her hands on her hips, her manner instantly challenging.

“You do not need to change everything in this house.” He tried to hold onto his annoyance as he bent down and unlaced his boots.

For all his want of neatness, there was no chance he was going to walk across his library and leave wet muddy footprints. He placed the boots neatly by the back door then walked toward a chair tucked to the side of the fire.

“You said I could change what I wished to?”

“That didn’t mean everything!” he snapped, throwing himself down into the chair and picking up the book at his side. “Or will you be changing my books next?” He held up the book in indignation. “Will you change myself?”

A mischievous smile appeared on her face.

“Tempting,” she whispered.

A sudden want to laugh filled Theodore’s gut. He barely managed to stamp down upon it.

“Was that a smile, Theo?”

She shortened my name.

Theodore stiffened. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever done that. Even his dearest friends never bothered to do so. It was sort of an unspoken agreement that he was too formal and neat in manner to stand a nickname.

“A very small one,” he whispered and opened the book in his lap.

“I will not change everything. On that, you have my word.” She walked forward. He was all too aware of her position in the room. He didn’t read what was on the page, but his eyes traced the bottom of her gown and her shoes as she walked toward the chair opposite him and sat down. “Everything in this room seems quite perfect as it is, in all honesty. It is not half as faded as the other rooms. Why is that?”

“I care for this room much more than the others.” The words were out of his lips before he could stop them. Just so he could keep up the pretense of reading, pretend that he wasn’t watching the way she tucked a curl of her dark hair behind her ear, he turned the page of the book.

“Why is that?” she persisted softly.

“I…” He tightened his lips. He had never told anyone why the library was his favorite room in the house. Even Yates and Mrs. Lancaster who often found him here when he was tired of being cooped up in the study for so long, didn’t ask him why the library was his favorite.

“Libraries are good places to escape,” Margaret mused, sitting forward in her chair. She was idly curling that lock around her finger now.

It is very, very distracting…

Theodore had a fantasy of being the one to do that to her hair. He had to wrench his mind from the thought and turned another page of his book.

“I often escaped into my father’s library when I was young. My sister, Louisa, and I, would often read books. They were a safer place to be, more exciting than the real world.”

“It’s what books offer,” he grunted. “An escape.”

“Is that what this place is to you?”

“Perhaps.” He turned another page. Margaret had lowered her hand to her lap now. Her delicate fingers rested on her thigh. It was making him all too aware of the curve of her figure.

I should not be attracted to her. I should not be thinking of how pretty she is day in and day out. Surely that is not why I am staring at her so much?

He turned another page, hoping she wasn’t dwelling on how quick a reader he was making himself appear.

“Then rest assured.” She stood and walked away. He lifted his gaze from the book entirely now, only to find she didn’t leave. She walked past him, gazing at the bookshelves behind him. Softly, she laid a hand on his shoulder.

He stiffened, startled at the warmth spreading through him at such a touch.

“I shall not change a book in this room, you have my word,” she whispered softly.

Then her hand was gone, and she stepped back to look at the books.

“Thank you.” He sighed with relief, turning back the pages now she wasn’t looking so he could attempt to read the passage again.

A minute of silence must have passed between them as she looked at the covers on the shelves and he tried to read. Still very distracted, his attempts to read were as futile as the last.

Closing up the book, he lowered it onto the table with a thud. She jumped, but didn’t enquire as to why he had done it. She kept her focus on the books instead.

Theodore watched her, marveling at her delicate fingers as they ran down the spines.

What she had just said was a testament to her kindness. It was also a testament to her perception.

He had told her very little of himself. In fact, he had told her nothing, and yet she had observed how much this room meant to him. She had also observed that libraries were an escape. It was an escape he very much needed from the world.

He watched as she reached for one of the thin ladders leading all the way to the tops of the shelves. She climbed up, her body strong and lithe as she reached for the top shelf.

A soft sort of sigh escaped him. Realizing it was all because he watched her far too much, he huffed and picked up the book again.

“If you do not like me being in here, I can leave,” she called as she turned the pages of a book she had retrieved. Clearly, she had heard him.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is upsetting you?”

“Who said I was upset?”

“As the sun comes up every morning, Theodore is upset about something,” she mused with a small grin. “You complained for half an hour straight this morning about the tax raises in the newspaper.”

“It was not half an hour,” Theodore insisted, thinking about the breakfast they had shared. Just like now, he had found it hard not to stare at Margaret this morning. The result was him seeking out a subject complain about in the newspaper so he had something else to think about.

“It was at least a little while. What is upsetting you now?”

“Nothing,” he lied.

The fact I always seem to be staring at you.

He closed the book, giving it up as a hopeless endeavor. As he watched her, quite unencumbered as she didn’t seem to notice, that soft sigh escaped his lips again.

There must be a reason I am looking at her so much.

Then it hit him. It was as if someone had struck a flint in a tinder box, and with that strike of flame, he saw the light.

Margaret had been working for days on end to improve the house, to make it beautiful these last couple of weeks, btu she had not spent any time or money on herself. He was fairly certain she was wearing the same gown she had worn the day he had proposed.

Like all her other dresses, it was faded and frayed at the sleeves. The hem of this gown was even a little shorter than it should have been, revealing a flash of pale ankle. She clearly had slender legs.

Theodore snapped his gaze away from her legs and back to her face.

Then I shall do something about this, so I no longer have to stare at her so much.

“Tomorrow, we shall be going to Covent Garden.”

“Covent Garden?” she repeated, looking up from the book she had been looking at. “Why?”

“You’ll see.” He stood and went to retrieve his muddy boots. “I’m surprised your sisters haven’t been to see you since you have been here.” He thought it would start another conversation, that they could talk about something other than himself for a change, yet Margaret blushed a bright shade of red and looked down. “What is wrong?”

“My father has clearly told them not to come. Yet. I shall keep inviting them for tea,” she whispered, turning the pages of her book.

“Invite them for dinner. Invite your father, too, if you have to. You shouldn’t be alone here, Margaret.”

His words seemed to strike something. She looked up from the book, her lips parted a little.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled, somewhat awkwardly, then hurried out of the room. The moment the door closed behind him, he grunted under his breath.

Her gowns. Those poor gowns are the only explanation as to why I stare at her so much. That has to be it.

Margaret sat between the candlelight, staring intermittently between her plate that was full of food and the empty place at the head of the table.

Mrs. Lancaster and the rest of the staff had outdone themselves once again. Margaret sat at a beautifully laid table, with all the food in the world she could desire. There were also carafes of claret and port for her to choose from, and yet for all that money had bought her here, she wasn’t happy.

I’m lonely.

With this thought, Margaret slumped into her chair. The poor gown she had changed into for dinner was itchy. It made her scratch her arms in frustration, but it had been a hand-me-down from Evelina and though the color was not as bold as it had once been, it was a fine enough gown to change into for dinner.

“Though there is none here to see it,” she muttered to herself.

Once more, she stared at the empty seat at the head of the table. Theodore had done his duty for the day. He had, after all, spent breakfast with her, as per their agreement. Yet Margaret found herself debating whether she could encroach on his time during dinner as well, so she could have some company.

She finished serving up her plate, piling it high with chicken and vegetables, then poured herself a glass of wine and stood.

As she stepped out of the dining room, Betsy stood nearby, curtseying hurriedly.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Your Grace?”

“No. Thank you, Betsy. You are all looking after me very well indeed. It’s just…” Margaret hesitated. “I’d like to find my husband.”

Betsy smiled rather sadly. The excitement Betsy had shown on Margaret’s first night in this house was now long dulled. Margaret thought that just like Mrs. Lancaster, Betsy had at last realized the marriage was not one of love. Not even of friendship.

“I believe he is in his study. Yates just took him another carafe of wine.”

“Thank you.” Margaret smiled and walked toward his study.

When she reached the door, she tapped lightly.

“Yes?” a voice answered.

Margaret opened the door with some difficulty as her hands were full, then stood in the opening, waiting for Theodore to look at her. He was both eating and working on something, writing notes with a quill pen. When she said nothing, he looked up, hesitating as his eyes met hers.

“Please may I sit with you?” she asked. It was a far cry from the boldness with which she had strode into this room on her first day here, but she didn’t want to be ousted.

“You wish to just sit?” He raised his eyebrows, dubiously.

“Perhaps I want a little companionship.” She shifted her weight between her feet. “Is that so wrong?”

A sad sort of smile reached his lips. It rather transformed his countenance. For a minute, he was not the cold and alabaster stone version of himself. He was human, even a little… vulnerable.

“No. There is nothing wrong in that.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.

Smiling in relief, Margaret hurried into the room. She rested her wine on the desk and sat with her dinner on her lap, watching as he both worked and ate. He adjusted the candles nearby a few times, the better to throw light onto his account books.

“The accounts?” she whispered. “I hope I have not bankrupted us with all my changes?” She attempted a jest, rather relieved when she saw another smile tweak his lips, temptingly. “It is perfectly acceptable to smile you know, Theo. You don’t have to be like stone all the time.”

He raised his eyebrows once again in silent question. That smile didn’t drop completely.

“I could say you had.” Yet he seemed to be adding up more numbers just the same. “Worry not. I am perfectly financially stable. I have more plans for the business, too. More business partners I can invest in.”

“Business partners?” she whispered. “You talked before about wanting to improve your reputation in business. To seem more… trustworthy.” She chose her words carefully.

“Old sins cast long shadows, as they say,” he sighed. “They are not my sins.” He added hastily, looking up from the books. “But yet, I need to improve what my name means in the world of business in trading if I am to continue to thrive.”

“So, I can continue to make changes to the house? Money is not a concern?”

“Money is not a concern. Though if you start changing the brickwork, I will have something to say.”

“Was that a jest? Are you making jokes now?” Margaret felt strangely excited. It was odd, to be here in Theodore’s rooms in the evening, with a sort of warm air between them.

“I make them every now and then.” He laid down his quill pen and returned to his food. “We’ll be leaving for Covent Garden early in the morning.”

“Very well. Where are we going?”

“Does it matter?”

“It affects what I choose to wear,” she tried to explain, shifting cautiously in her seat. If they were to meet friends of his for lunch, then she would have to find a gown in her collection with as few frays and darning patches as possible.

“Do not worry about what you will wear. Put on anything you like.”

She frowned as he took a sip from his wine.

“Why are you keeping tomorrow a mystery?” she asked tightly.

“You shall see. Soon enough.” For the first time, his lips spread into a full and complete smile.

He was utterly transformed now.

When he forgets to be angry or cold with the world, he really can be very handsome indeed.