She hurried down the steps to hug them both. “Welcome home, Uncle, Aunt. I hope the journey from Town was an easy one.”
Aunt Isadora fussed with her skirts. “Gillian, my dear, so good to arrive with you at the front door to greet us. The ride down was uneventful, but long. All I want is refreshment and a hot bath before dressing for dinner.”
“And you shall, my love.” Uncle Whitney took Aunt Isadora’s hand and moved toward Moreham and the ladies. “I’ll see you to your suite. You must be well rested and in the pink for our welcome dinner this evening.”
Moreham joined her and greeted the duke and duchess with all the aplomb one would exercise when greeting the king and queen. “Your Graces, so good to see you once again. I must say my thanks for offering us a few days to ourselves. I have enjoyed our visit. Gillian and I have enjoyed exploring the estate. We even had a picnic lunch yesterday.”
“Excellent! We have always loved our time at Whitings. Haven’t we dear?” Uncle turned to the duchess for her confirmation. She gave a nod and resumed her preoccupation with the wrinkles in her skirt. “Feels more like home than the pile in Town. Used to have the grandest times here just us. Fond memories.”
“The Dowager Countess and Lady Philly are here, Cross joined us yesterday. I hope you don’t mind his inclusion in the party.”
Uncle clapped Moreham on the back. “Of course, Cross is welcome. Now, the good news is you may take my niece off and enjoy yourselves. My duchess and I will take charge of the house party.”
Moreham shot Gillian a heated look. “Your Grace, How very gracious of you. I like the sound of a couple of hours with my wife.”
Gillian interrupted, “Uncle, someone has to welcome your guests and see them to their rooms.”
Uncle Whitney laughed and patted her on the back. “Oh, never mind that. I am a duke and can make my own rules in my own house. I’ll see to the arrival of our guests and Mrs. Osgood can escort them to their rooms. After a day in a coach no one wants to socialize until they have refreshed themselves.”
“Hot water will be taken up to all the bedchambers.”
“See, you are such a wonder. Now off with you.”
Uncle Whitney called Perkins and Mrs. Osgood to his side and headed for the stairs. The foursome made their way up the stairs. Her uncle seemed to like her husband, but Aunt Isadora had always been a hard nut to crack. Gillian only hoped her aunt’s stubbornness did not cause a problem with Moreham’s plan.
Cross wandered out of the library as the ducal couple disappeared at the top of the next landing. “Never have understood all the folderol of being a duke. The duke arrives, servants scrape and bow while he only wants a brandy and a hot bath.”
Cross’ words echoed through the hallway. For a peer, the man had a pragmatic viewpoint of the world. It must have been his years of working for the Crown.
“Enough, Gillian and I are going out for a ride. Keep an eye on everyone while we are gone. We will meet before tea to discuss the arrivals and any surprises you have uncovered. My dear, shall we?”
Moreham took her hand in his grasp and led her up the stairs. She was in agreement—a quiet ride was called for after that flurry of activity. She hoped with a little encouragement from her, Moreham would keep her out until after tea.
Moreham did, in fact, agree to ride further afield. They arrived back at the house after the guests had retired to their rooms to rest before dinner. The sun was setting and shadows lengthening by the time they entered the stable yard. She couldn’t remember ever enjoying an afternoon so. Moreham had been funny and charming. He seemed to be courting her. She loved the notion of him doing so.
“Hurry up, Gillian. I’ll tell Cross we are back and will join you momentarily.” Moreham urged her up the stairs.
She was looking forward to the evening at his side even if there were traitors among them. When she was with Moreham she felt as if she could take on the world. She wondered if he felt the same.
Maisy and a hot bath were waiting for Gillian when she entered her bedchamber. The maid fussed and saw her dressed and coifed with only moments to spare. Moreham waited for her in their sitting room. She couldn’t fight back the sense of trepidation seeing him dressed in formal black clothes. She worried he would not think her pretty.
“You look beautiful, my dearest. I will be the most envied man in the room tonight. I will fight Cross to the death if he tries to spirit you away to a corner. I will not leave your side all evening. I find marriage makes me possessive. Do you mind?”
“No, Moreham, I find I share that sentiment where you are concerned as well.”
Moreham joined her in the middle of the room and kissed her cheek before taking her hand. She moved to take his arm, and he refused to let go of her hand. “No dearest, I want to hold your hand. I am newly married and will be forgiven for doing so. Or not forgiven which I will not care about as long as you are by my side.”
The man surely possessed the skill of uttering pretty words to make her heart sing. The hours following their arrival in the drawing room seemed to fly by. All too soon they were back in their sitting room. Frustrated, Gillian wanted to know what would happen next. Moreham had not spoken with Cross, as he had wanted.
Gillian watched Moreham pace back and forth. She said what she knew he was thinking. “How will you manage to speak with Cross? I won’t be able to sleep not knowing what
