Elizabeth then sent her to fetch Mary so she could get ready for breakfast. She debated whether to ask her friend about acceptable marital behaviour, but quickly changed her mind.
Robert and Mary have always shared a room and a bed; admittedly, I'm not sure it was by choice. It would have been hard to find separate bedrooms for them back in the Church Street house,Lizzie thought and then shook her head at herself.Besides, what do the Wards know about what is acceptable among the married couples of the peerage?
The truth, however, was that Elizabeth felt vaguely ashamed and insecure, and she needed to lick her wounds alone before she shared her issue with anyone.
I need to write to Lady Burnham as soon as possible,Lizzie thought. She’d need a lot of help navigating her new circumstances, she realised with a sigh.
*
“What does Your Grace typically enjoy for breakfast?” the housekeeper, Mrs Hughes, asked her casually as she escortedher towards the morning room after they had met at the bottom of the stairs. “The cook wants to make sure she prepares something to your liking,” she smiled conspiratorially.
Elizabeth was about to protest and say that she could eat anything, but was interrupted by her husband’s voice from the grand staircase, “Tell Mrs. Clark that whatever sweet treats she provides shall make her new mistress very happy.”
Mrs. Hughes couldn’t contain her joy and awe at her master’s intimate knowledge of his young wife’s habits, and, flustered by it, she ran off to the kitchen, most likely to inform all and sundry about it.
“Good morning, wife.”
“Good morning,” Elizabeth said, surprised but pleased. “How do you know what I like to eat?”
“I told you last night, I’m very perceptive.”
“Ah,” Elizabeth said, tempted to argue that his absence from her room last night proved the exact opposite.
Instead, she just started walking towards the morning room that Mrs. Hughes had pointed to earlier.
Her childish, hurt feelings caused her to select eggs and toast from the abundant spread, instead of indulging in the custard-filled pastries that her heart actually desired. Talbot simply watched her without saying anything.
When they were done eating, they set off on the promised tour of the house. Each room was more impressive than the next, generations of wealth and prestige evident in every piece of furniture and every gargantuan piano they encountered, but Elizabeth could muster up no enthusiasm for anything Talbot was showing her.
While walking through the long gallery and being subjected to portraits of his seven predecessors in various dukely poses, she completely abandoned the pretence of listening to him.
“And this Sheraton bookcase here, my late father had it specially made to complement the furniture in my mother’s favourite sitting room. Seven men had to be called to carry it up the stairs. I was but a boy, but I remember that day clearly,” Talbot explained enthusiastically, but stopped upon not receiving the expected response.
“What is with you today?” His exasperated voice finally reached Elizabeth.
She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at his frowning face.
“It’s like you are a different woman today. I’ve heard about ladies changing after matrimony, but this is quite extreme, don’t you think?”
Elizabeth clenched her teeth together angrily. He was the one to talk to her about change! He was all but bedding her in the carriage yesterday, and look at him now!
“Did I do something to displease you?” She asked, trying to appear calm.
“Yes, you’ve been quiet and sullen and frankly absentminded all morning,” he listed readily.
“Not today,” Elizabeth clarified, “at the inn.”
Her husband looked as confused as she felt.
“At the inn?”
“Yes,” she hissed quietly, stepping closer to him, “why didn’t you come to my room last night?”
Understanding dawned on Colin’s face, and he looked slightly discomposed. He took a step closer to her as well.
“I thought you might be tired. Or that you needed to… recover,” he whispered unnecessarily.
Elizabeth shook her head, then asked, “Do you not wish to share a bed when… without expectations?”
