Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

T he journey to Edwin’s estate was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Hanna gazed out the carriage window almost the entire way, ignoring Edwin’s attempts at conversation. He told himself to be patient. In time, she would come to see that their marriage was not the calamity she imagined it to be.

As they approached the Ashford estate, the timbered walls came into view, and the carriage began to slow. Edwin had sent one of his grooms ahead to alert his butler, Mr. Baxter, and Mrs. Maple of their impending arrival. His servants were nothing if not reliable, and they stood waiting, the entire staff assembled in neat lines. It was a sight he hadn’t witnessed in some time, and he found it rather impressive, even for his own home.

Once the carriage rolled to a stop in the courtyard, Edwin quickly disembarked and offered his hand to Hanna, helping her down. He noticed her eyes flickering upward, taking in the sight before her. His home was indeed an impressive structure, with its grand, timber-framed facade, set against the rolling hills of the countryside.

“This is your new home,” Edwin said with a gentle smile, though she only offered him an uncomfortable glance in return. “It was constructed during the Tudor period, as you can likely tell from its design. Your chambers are located up there,” he continued, gesturing toward the westernmost wing.

For the first time since their departure, he saw a spark of interest in her eyes.

“There is a balcony,” she noted, a hint of surprise in her voice.

“Indeed,” Edwin replied. “All the chambers on the upper floor have balconies. I do hope you will like it. While the day is overcast now, on most days, the view is quite breathtaking,” he said, motioning toward the expansive gardens and the lake that glimmered in the distance.

“Come.” He offered her his arm. There was a brief hesitation before she accepted it, and they moved toward the row of waiting servants. “Hanna, allow me to introduce you to Mrs. Maple, our housekeeper, and Mr. Baxter, our butler.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” Mrs. Maple offered, dipping into a curtsy. She was a stout, older woman, with a chatelaine of keys dangling from her waist. She had served the household for as long as Edwin could remember and was as much a fixture as the very walls themselves.

“We have all been eagerly awaiting your arrival,” Mr. Baxter added with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Hanna replied politely, though Edwin could see she was still overwhelmed.

“Now, let me introduce the rest of the staff,” he continued, leading her down the line. “We employ over fifty servants across the manor, the gardens, and the stables. I shall introduce you to the stablehands later.”

He took the time to introduce each servant by name, a habit instilled in him by his father, who had always insisted it was only right to know those who served you.

To her credit, Hanna did her best to greet each person with a polite smile, though it was evident the task exhausted her.

When they finally entered the manor, Edwin led her to the parlor.

“This is the main parlor,” he explained. “I confess, I seldom use it. My father was fond of entertaining here, but I am not much of a host.” He attempted a light-hearted chuckle.

However, he saw the flicker of understanding in her eyes and realized his misstep. The truth, of course, was that he rarely entertained because few people were willing to visit a man with his reputation.

Pushing past the awkward moment, Edwin continued the tour. He showed her the ballroom, grand but presently dim and silent.

“You’ll recognize this from the ball, I’m sure,” he said wryly. “But I think you might find the library more to your liking. We have two—a smaller one downstairs and a larger one upstairs.”

“I do not read much,” Hanna admitted, surprising him. “Arabella is the one with a love for books.”

“Well,” Edwin said, quickly adjusting, “the library offers more than just books. There are puzzles, cards, and other amusements. We also have a card room, should you wish to invite your friends for an afternoon of play.”

“We usually meet at Arabella’s home,” she replied, her tone distant.

“I see,” he said, trying to mask his disappointment. “But should you ever wish for a change of scenery, our card room is available. There is also a music room—do you play any instruments?”

“The pianoforte,” she answered. “Though I cannot say I have a passion for it. My father deemed it a necessary accomplishment, but I never truly enjoyed it.”

Edwin smiled, sensing an opportunity. “I quite understand. My father insisted I learn as well, claiming it would improve my dexterity and focus. But I cannot say I ever found pleasure in it. I prefer other pursuits—hunting, riding, shooting, and occasionally painting.”

She looked at him with faint curiosity. “You paint?”

“Watercolors, yes. It’s not the most gentlemanly of pursuits, I suppose, and my father disapproved at first. But my late brother, Benjamin, often gifted me paint sets, and eventually, Father conceded. After all, I was merely the second son. What harm was there in a barrister indulging in watercolors during his leisure time?”

“Is that what you wished to become? A barrister?” Hanna asked, her voice softer than it had been before.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I still do, in fact. Despite what you may have heard, I do possess a sense of justice.”

Silence fell between them, one laden with unspoken words. Edwin knew he might have said too much, but he also felt that some truths needed to be spoken.

“Hanna,” he began. “There are things?—”

“I am rather tired,” she interrupted gently. “Would you mind if I retired to my chambers?”

“Of course, I don’t,” Edwin replied, concealing his disappointment. “We shall dine together this evening, and perhaps then, we might continue our conversation. There are matters we must discuss—things you ought to know, and perhaps things you wish to say to me.”

“Thank you,” she said, with a faint but polite smile, before turning to follow Mrs. Maple up the grand staircase.

Just as Hanna reached the landing, a door at the far end of the hallway burst open, and a large, shaggy dog came barreling out with all the enthusiasm of a creature freed from its confinement.

“Ruby!” Edwin called out, but it was too late.

The dog bounded down the stairs, his tail wagging furiously, tongue lolling as he made a beeline for Hanna.

Hanna froze, the color draining from her face as her eyes widened in sheer terror. The next moment, she spun around and collided with Edwin’s chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

He steadied her, his hands gentle but firm on her arms. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” he soothed. “Ruby means no harm—he’s merely excited to meet you. He is a very merry mongrel.”

Hanna shook her head frantically, her eyes never leaving the dog, who had now halted at the bottom of the staircase, quivering with excitement but obediently waiting for his master’s command.

“No—no, please,” Hanna stammered, her voice trembling. “I… I don’t like dogs. I’m terrified of them. Please, keep him away.”

“Ruby is very gentle,” Edwin insisted, attempting to tug her hand forward. “If you just allow him to sniff your hand, you’ll see?—”

“No!” Hanna cried, jerking her hand back as if she’d been burned. “I beg you, Your Grace, please. I cannot—” Her voice broke, and she turned around, her entire body taut with distress.

Mrs. Maple stepped forward with an air of calm authority. “Come along now, Your Grace,” she said softly to Hanna. “Let me show you to your chambers. Ruby will not trouble you, I assure you.”

Hanna nodded, clinging to Mrs. Maple’s arm as though it were a lifeline, and allowed herself to be led up the stairs. Her eyes darted one last time to the dog before she disappeared down the hallway.

Edwin watched her go, releasing a slow, frustrated breath. “Ruby,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in exasperation, “you always pick the worst moments, don’t you?”

The dog wagged his tail apologetically, sensing he was the cause of his master’s annoyance, but also certain he had done nothing wrong.

Edwin sighed and crouched down, scratching him behind the ears. “I suppose we’ll have to take things slow,” he said, more to himself than to the dog. “Much slower than I’d hoped.”

Standing, he cast one last glance up the stairs, where Hanna had vanished. This marriage was proving to be far more challenging than he had anticipated. Yet, something about her vulnerability—her fear —made him all the more determined to see it through, to gain her trust, and perhaps, in time, her heart.