Page 43 of Her Bear of a Duke
The ladies all laughed together and then began the work. It was not perfect, but when it was done Dorothy stood back and breathed a sigh of relief. It was calm at last, and precisely what she wanted.
"We have done a lot in such a short time," she said to nobody in particular. "It is not finished, but it is a start."
"The staff will have it ready," Beatrice assured her.
"Good, then in the meantime we have something else to do."
They left for the glasshouse, and the ladies gasped at it. It was enormous, Dorothy knew that, but it would have been quite a shock to those not accustomed to seeing them. The only other one that they would have seen was that of the Duke of Pridefield, whom they had stayed with the year before. He had an orangery, and Dorothy had so loved the fruit in there. She hoped to grow the same thing in her own, but for that to happen they would have to have it changed greatly.
"Do you honestly plan to rejuvenate this yourself?" Emma asked.
"No, I have requested a specialist for it. He should arrive later today. I would have liked to do it alone, but it is too great a risk. My husband adores plants like I do, and so it is for the best that we have the best possible glasshouse for our garden."
"Then I cannot wait to see it. You know, your husband might not be what you envisioned, but I am so pleased that he shares in your passion."
"As am I," Beatrice agreed. "I do not believe that I shall be so fortunate, as I could not tell you a single man that enjoys baking."
"No," Dorothy quipped, "but there are many gentlemen that would highly appreciate the goods that come from it."
"Oh, yes! I almost forgot that I brought something for us all. Your housekeeper took it to the kitchens."
Having shown them the gardens, Dorothy took them back to her favorite drawing room, one that they had made a pale blue. The treats arrived, several small cakes covered in pink icing.
"Is this your way of telling me you believe that I am to have a little girl?" Emma asked, smiling into her cake as she bit it.
"No, in truth I believe that you will have a boy. I simply like pink."
"As do I," Dorothy agreed, lying back and looking at the new room.
Everything in her household had changed entirely. It was unrecognizable from the dark and dreary manor that it had been two mere days before. Her time with her friends was coming to an end, as she did not want them to be there when her husband returned but she did not know when that would be.
It was not that she was afraid of them meeting the Duke, but rather she knew the conversation that the two of them would have when he returned, and she wished to have it sooner rather than later. There was so much that she wished to know, and so much that she knew he was hiding, and she did not know that she wanted her friends to be there when she learned of it all.
When the time came for them to leave, they each embraced her tightly. Cecilia's was the tightest of all, as it always was. She was an opinionated lady, but she cared fiercely for everyone she knew and Dorothy had always been especially important to her. She had had gowns made for her, defended her in times ofneed, and been the one to push her to do what was right, rather than what would lead to the least conflict. Dorothy wished that she would one day find happiness with a husband, but she had decided it was her life's path to be a bluestocking, and there was no changing her mind there.
Beatrice was hoping to marry, and Emma was happier than ever with her own husband, and Dorothy wished that she could feel that way; excited and content. She would tell Morgan that when he returned.
It just so happened that that was the following day. She went to see him, briefly ignoring all of the things she wished to say to him.
"You are home!" she greeted warmly. "How have you been?"
But he was looking around the household, his gaze distant.
"Dorothy," he said quietly, "what have you done?"
CHAPTER 16
Morgan did not return to his home.
Instead, he found himself entering a strange place that was completely unrecognizable from the place he had lived in all of his life. The darkness that he had always seen was lifted into sugary pale shades, just like any other household in theton.
It was precisely what he had given his wife permission to do, but that had been before he discovered that there was a letter to uncover. He saw just how different his household was and felt great suspicion that the very thing he wanted to find had already been seen by someone else, and that terrified him.
"What have you done?" he repeated, at last looking at his wife.
He could see the confusion in her face, and he could not blame her for that. Dorothy seemed to have no reason to understand why he was acting like he was, which meant that she could nothave found the letter. It was a start, but that did not mean there was not another person that had seen it.
"I have redecorated," she said gently. "It is precisely what I told you that I wanted to do."
