Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

S omething had changed.

After the ceremony, Matthew had wondered… He had thought perhaps things wouldn't be as bad as he had originally thought. But then Diana suddenly became cold and distant.

Still, this was for the best.

He knew better than to allow any form of feelings to sneak into his heart. And for a woman, no less. When they had finished their dance, each went their separate ways, and he ignored her for the remainder of the evening.

Speaking with the gentlemen was at least something that could be advantageous, though he had never had much opportunity to speak to these particular men before. At least, not often.

But he might as well get some business connections out of this if he wasn't going to spend the day with Diana.

Another glance in her direction, but she seemed to be studiously ignoring him. Her back turned to him as she made the rounds.

So he turned to the men before him.

"You are Lord Pemberton, are you not?" he asked a gentleman who nodded sharply.

"I am, Your Grace," the man replied, though the look on his face said… well, it said that he was very much wary of this conversation.

"Your estate borders this one?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Lord Pemberton replied.

There was something… reserved about his tone. But not in the same way as Matthew's. It was as if… as if the man was frightened. But of what, Matthew did not know.

"I am sorry, Your Grace, but it seems I am needed," Lord Pemberton said abruptly and then he was off.

And he was not the only one.

Throughout the evening, several men Matthew spoke with seemed eager to run off as quickly as possible. Or they tried to avoid him altogether. All save for his wife's father, who seemed interested in talking with him… all the time.

Diana's brother watched him carefully from across the room, staring for a long time before he would turn back to others and then returning his gaze to Matthew once again.

But Diana never once looked in his direction. At least, until it was time for them to leave.

Once again, her sisters crowded around her, hugging her and crying as they said their goodbyes.

Matthew stood back silently, waiting for them to finish so that he and Diana could depart. He would be happier in his own home. And Diana… well, she would have her own space in his house and should be well enough.

"I am ready," she announced finally, standing before him with a small bag that he assumed was the remainder of her personal affairs. Her other things had arrived a few days prior by carriage and a servant had unpacked them in her new rooms.

"Let us take our leave then," he replied, glancing back at the rest of her family.

Her father gave a stiff bow, which he returned. Her mother bobbed a deep curtsey, and he inclined his head in response. Her sisters and her brother, however… they seemed to be staring at him quite intently, searching for something, though Matthew knew not what.

When they stepped out of Waterburry House, the rest of the family followed, watching as he helped Diana into the carriage and as the door closed behind them.

It was time.

Time to leave.

Time to get on with… all of this.

It would be a long ride back to his home, but he was used to riding in silence. Used to being entirely alone on these rides.

And so staring out the window while Diana did the same… it meant nothing to him.

Until they arrived at the townhouse and he helped her out of the carriage once again. But this time was entirely different from the last. Different from when he had helped her out of the carriage at her home and she had smiled at him.

Now she seemed… cold and distant yet again. Which he should have been pleased with. He should have been glad that there was nothing to distract him. Nothing to tempt him into feeling more than he should at the sight of her. And yet… it felt wrong .

"Your Grace, welcome." Miss Jenkins was waiting at the door when they arrived, and he inclined his head in response, before presenting Diana to her.

"Miss Jenkins, this is Diana, my new wife."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace," Miss Jenkins told her immediately, bobbing a low curtsey that Diana seemed to find surprising. It was clear she was not yet used to the title and formalities that came with it.

"Diana, Miss Jenkins is our housekeeper. She will assist you in anything that you need in the house."

"Thank you very much," Diana replied, though her voice was only slightly less stiff than it was when she spoke to him.

When Miss Jenkins had left, Matthew began leading Diana through the house. And that, at least, seemed to elicit a reaction from her. Because she was staring around her in complete silence, her eyes wide.

"This is… where you live?" she asked.

He furrowed his brow as he glanced around. "During the Season, yes."

"And just how long have you had this house?"

"My father owned it before me. And so I have spent every Season here my entire life," he replied.

Diana looked even more shocked by that.

"You've spent all the Season here, and it's so… bare."

"It has everything necessary." He bristled at her implication. There was nothing wrong with the house. Nothing out of place. Nothing missing.

"There are so few pieces of furniture, and there is no art."

"Art?"

"Surely you know what art is." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he stiffened yet again.

"I know what art is, but there is no need for it. Art is not functional or useful in any way."

It was another one of those things that his father had never approved of. Artwork on the walls was a waste of space when the space was meant to be purely functional. But Diana seemed appalled by the idea.

"It does not need to be functional. But it is indeed useful. It makes the space beautiful, and it gives one something to look at."

"And just what purpose does that serve?"

"It does not need to serve a purpose. I cannot possibly live in a house with no beauty in it. Bare walls. Bare everything… This will not do."

"There is no need for anything further," he retorted.

Diana shook her head. "I will need to procure artwork for the walls," she announced. "I have some things that my sisters have made. I've no hand for watercolors myself, but they will make a few pieces, I am sure. And I can purchase other pieces of art in town. As for the tables—" She glanced at the side table nearest to her. "Certainly you have a garden?"

"We do," he confirmed.

"Excellent. I think I should have flower arrangements put together and placed on each of the tables throughout the house."

Matthew stared at her for several moments, startled by her abrupt desire to change things in his home. And the way she so matter-of-factly stated that she was going to do so.

"There is no need for any of that. There is no need for extraneous items that simply clutter the space and add nothing. My home is meant to be functional and nothing more."

"This is my home now as well, and I cannot live in such a… barren place." Diana stared around her, the look on her face resolute.

"There is no need for anything further, and you shall not clutter my home with nonsense," Matthew insisted.

"If I am to live here during the Season, I should also have a say in what happens here. I should be able to decorate my own home as I see fit. I am the lady of the house. Is that not part of my responsibilities?" she retorted.

Matthew could only grit his teeth in annoyance.

Yes, that should be one of her responsibilities, but he had no desire for her to change things within his home. Not even this one. No desire for her to be muddling his mind the way she had ever since he met her.

"You will make no changes to this house without my or Miss Jenkins' express permission."

Diana was practically seething at this point. He could see the way that her teeth clenched. The way her eyes narrowed into slits. The way her lips parted as she drew in one sharp breath after another.

"There is no reason for you to treat me like a child. I am a grown woman, and this is my home as well. If you want me to stay here and be happy here, then I need freedom to make this my own home."

He was about to say that he did not truly care if she was happy here but then bit his tongue. After all, it wasn't entirely true. He would rather she was happy here because he did not want the scandal of her leaving his home to return to Waterburry House.

And there was something else there… a part of him that wanted her to be happy just because… he wanted to see her happy. But he shoved the thought away.

"Fine. You may make a few small changes to the house. Your sisters' watercolors and some flowers from the garden. But that is all."

Diana looked like she wanted to speak again but then decided against it, drawing in a deep breath and giving a sharp nod.

Matthew assumed that meant the conversation was finished and he could continue on with their tour.

"Your rooms are this way." He gestured toward the East wing of the house, before opening the door to the bedroom that he had asked Miss Jenkins to prepare for her. "These rooms, you may do with as you wish. Fill them with flowers and art and anything else you choose." He meant it to be a compromise of sorts, but his tone did not come out as friendly as he intended.

Diana gave another sharp nod, but she didn't look at him. Instead, she was looking around the room with a critical eye, and he found himself actually concerned that she would find fault in something there.

His gaze swept over every inch of the space, but he could find nothing to be displeased with.

The room was neat and clean. Everything was in its place. The bed was made. It looked exactly as it should.

"Will this suffice?" he asked, and she finally turned to look at him.

"Yes, this will do quite nicely."

It was perhaps the nicest thing she'd said since they returned to Waterburry House after the ceremony, and it surprised him slightly. But he simply looked around the room once more and made for the next door.

"There is a sitting room here. You can enter from your own room or the hallway should you have visitors you wish to meet with in private or should you like to have tea brought up to your rooms."

"Thank you," she managed to get out, and he stepped back yet again.

"The dining hall is just down this way."

He led her through the rest of the house and showed her the main dining room, where the meals would be served.

By the time they had finished touring the house, it was quite late, and Matthew led her back to her rooms again.

"Well… good night," he muttered.

"Good night."

Her tone was slightly less icy now, though he attributed that to her being tired and ready to be done with the day. He certainly was. And as he made his way back to his rooms, he wondered just what might be in store for him.

This woman, who was now his wife, was certainly strong-willed. And she had no trouble standing up to him and demanding whatever she wanted. The fact that he had given in to one of her requests would not bode well for the future, and yet he could not help but feel… pleased.

There was something about his wife that he liked. Perhaps something that reminded him a bit of Isabelle, whom he had always cared for and admired as an excellent example of the fairer sex.

But also, there was something about his wife that was distinctly… her.

The next morning, he did not see Diana for breakfast. However, he was up and ready to leave the house early. With work to attend to, there was no reason to delay, so he headed to his uncle's townhouse.

"Ah, Matthew, there you are. Isabelle said we couldn't come to see you for some time, as this is your honeymoon and all," John teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "I had wondered where you disappeared. I don't think you've left me in peace this long in your entire life," he retorted.

John laughed even more. "And just how is the honeymoon going? Is your new bride everything that you had hoped she would be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matthew shook his head. "I'm not telling you anything about what's happening in my home."

"Oh, come now, surely you have something to tell your best friend."

"And who might that be?" Matthew shot back.

John pressed his hands to his heart in mock hurt. "Am I not your best friend? Who else could possibly put up with your moods as I do?"

"What need have I for a best friend anyway?"

"You need someone who will actually put up with you. And I don't seem to see a line of people ready to do so."

Matthew just shook his head, and John laughed.

"I am here to see your father," Mathew instructed and John shook his head.

"And what would you wish to do that for?"

"We have business to attend to."

"Immediately after your wedding?"

"Business does not wait for anything," Mathew replied and again John shook his head.

"This way then," John told him, leading the way to the study. John's father, Stuart Branson, Marquess of Kadenscroft was hard at work, though he looked up when the door opened. "Father, it is your favorite protégé, fresh from his wedding."

"Matthew, excellent, we have matters to discuss."

John shook his head at the both of them. "Ah, the fact that the two of you can talk of business the day after Mathew has been wed astounds me."

The Marquess also looked confused by John's comment but after a quick look both of them turned away from him and for several long minutes they pored over the papers on the desk, before John interrupted.

"That's all beside the point. What about your new wife?"

"What about her?" Matthew asked, glancing up, distracted.

"We know nothing about her. Just her name. And your new wife's name does not tell me what she is like."

"I cannot tell you that which I do not know myself. And I can assure you that I do not know what she is like any more than you," Matthew replied.

"I'm sure your new wife is getting used to the changes that have occurred. It will take time. Give her all the space that she needs to adjust to her new life," his uncle said.

"I have given her space. And I shall continue to do so," Matthew agreed.

He had no real use for getting too close to his new wife, and having his uncle affirm his intentions made it seem even better.

"Not at all," John cut in. "If you give her too much space, she's just going to end up creating a life completely outside of yours. You need to talk to her. Get to know her. You two are married now, so make a true relationship of it."

"Your cousin has good intentions, Matthew," The Marquess spoke up again, "but I am the one who has experience with marriage. Women lose a great deal when they marry. They join their husbands' families, and they give up their own. Your new wife has a great deal to learn and a great deal to accept. Trying to force her to talk to you or to get close to her is only going to make her feel pressured into something that she certainly isn't ready for."

"Isn't it best to help her get used to all of those new things? Rather than simply throw her into the household and expect her to make do on her own, you can help her to understand the way your household is run, the way things are done…" John continued.

The Marquess was shaking his head and about to speak, but Matthew was tired of this conversation.

"Have you two nothing better to do than comment on my relationship? We have business to attend to." Matthew turned back toward the desk and studied the papers strewn across it. "The lands at the edges of the town are available, and I, for one, would like to bring those into our fold."

He ignored the glances the two shared and instead pored over the map until both joined him, and the conversation easily fell back to the work that was yet to be done.

And if his thoughts occasionally drifted to Diana and what he should be doing with her… well, he drew them quickly back to the subject at hand.

His uncle was correct. It was best to leave her to her own devices for a period of time. And then… well, at some point, he would have to speak with her further, and he would be able to learn what he needed about her.

But they had already agreed that they would be married in name only. She could not possibly be expecting much of him, could she?