“Is there anywhere in this house he likes?” Margaret asked curiously. She stood, dabbing at the wet gown as she moved to the window, trying to catch another glimpse of Theodore in the garden.
She could just about see his head moving through the flower borders. Far from escaping deep into the estate, he was walking around the house, keeping to the gardens.
“It is not my place to say, Your Grace,” Mrs. Lancaster said dutifully.
“Mrs. Lancaster.” Margaret sighed and turned to face her. “Your loyalty to him and his secrecy does you credit, but I only ask so I can know him better. That is all.” She shrugged, feeling rather helpless.
Mrs. Lancaster’s manner softened at once.
“I believe he has a fondness for the library, my lady.” She coupled this with a curtsy and left the room swiftly.
Sensing an opportunity, Margaret took another sip of her tea then left it behind, taking off in the direction of the library. As she entered, she found this side of the house even grayer than the garden room. With so much rain and gray skies outside, barely any light seemed to filter in at all.
Reaching for candles, Margaret lit them hurriedly and placed three candles around the room so she could take in the view.
With mahogany wood so dark it was almost black, the stacked shelves of books gave a moody feeling to the room. Yet the books themselves were a contrast. Not only were the dark leather-bound books, but brightly colored fabric covers, too.
On a table nearby, there were books piled neatly. Every single shelf was aligned so that the titles were listed alphabetically. Even a nearby writing bureau was well stocked with quill pens and ink, all lined up in a row. There were peacock feathers and falcon feather quills, all protruding from a stand.
The room was not only subject to Theodore’s excessive neatness, but a testament to his love of the place. It was the only room that had felt remotely personal.
A door shut.
At the sudden sound, Margaret whipped around.
A glass door which led straight out onto the terrace garden had been opened and closed. Standing on a door mat, dripping onto the floor, was Theodore. He was halfway shrugging his wet tailcoat off when he noticed her and froze.
“I’m surprised.” She gestured to his tailcoat. “I would have thought you too neat to bring the rain into such a fine room.”
He didn’t answer her, but folded the coat up as neatly as was humanly possible then laid it across the back of a wooden chair. He didn’t move off the door mat, leading her to wonder if he was struggling to choose between leaving muddy footprints across the floor or taking his shoes off in front of her.
His neat and ordered mind must hate the idea of both options.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She gestured to him in the room. Just as usual, he had brought with him the cold and silent air he dragged into every room.
I do not think I am welcome in here anymore than I am his study.
“I’ll leave you to your peace.”
“Were you intending on changing this room as you have done the rest?” His voice was strangely piqued.
Slowly, Margaret turned back to face him. Her eyes widened as she took in his pinkened expression.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You have changed so much in the space of a week and a half.” He shook his head jerkily. “Will you change it all? Will nothing be left?”
“Oh, I see.” She faced him fully. “Have I irritated you, Theodore?” He stared blankly at her, his eyes narrowing. “Come, come, why the silence when you clearly have so much that you’d like to say. Have I annoyed you?”
CHAPTER TEN
Theodore just stared at his wife. His stomach was knotted tight, and he no longer knew why. Was it the irritation at all that she was changing? No, that couldn’t explain all of it. Was it the fact that wherever he went, he found himself staring at her these days, even looking at her through the window when he tried to walk in the garden?
“Theodore?” Her voice softened, though she placed her hands on her hips, her manner instantly challenging.
“You do not need to change everything in this house.” He tried to hold onto his annoyance as he bent down and unlaced his boots.
For all his want of neatness, there was no chance he was going to walk across his library and leave wet muddy footprints. He placed the boots neatly by the back door then walked toward a chair tucked to the side of the fire.
