And yet the bench was wide enough for two.
While he had done his best to avoid Georgiana in their London house, there was no denying she had left her mark on it. The house was bright and cheerful. The rooms were beginning to look pleasant and less dreary. Even his meals became noteworthy. Though he only saw his wife a few times a day, if at all, it was apparent she had had quite an effect on him.
This irritated Owen. He resolved to push past it, past her. He waited out that fourth day and a fifth until he was forced to accept a new fact: his country home was not the comfortable sanctuary it had once been.
“What a cloudy day,” Anders remarked on their return to London that sixth day. The sun was setting, and they’d just crossed the final hill to reach the city. “I do miss the sun.”
“The sun is here as well,” Owen grumbled.
His valet sighed loudly, following after him. “Certainly, but it stays away most of the time. Do you believe we’ll be here through the summer as well?”
“We shouldn’t be here in the first place,” Owen muttered, but his voice was too low for his servant to hear.
As they approached the house at nightfall, Owen couldn’t help but slow down. A knot of anxiety formed in his stomach and made him hunch over in the saddle.
That familiar sense of dread had returned to him. There was a reason he never came to this house, after all. It didn’t have his parents here any longer. All it represented now was a husk of a memory, gloomy and musty no matter how much the servants cleaned.
“Your Grace?”
He must have stopped on the road. Sighing, he nudged his horse along. “I’m coming.”
It was with great reluctance that he handed over the reins upon their arrival at the side of the house, before he walked to the front doors and stepped inside.
Mrs. Helen held the door open with a bright smile. “Good evening, Your Grace,” she greeted cheerfully. “How wonderful it is you have returned to us. Did your travels go well?”
“Fine, fine.” He took off his cloak and hat before turning to the hall. “What happened here?”
Chuckling, the housekeeper handed his belongings over to a footman. Wentworth must have retired early.
The older woman waved a hand about before answering. “Isn’t it lovely? It’s much less cluttered now, and the extra lamps go a long way to brighten up the hall. We’ve got a new polish, too.”
That was only part of what had been done. He glanced about, studying the intricate tiles now no longer hidden so much by the outdated rug. There was still art on the walls, but it didn’t consume everything. And yes, everything had been properly polished.
“This is quite well done,” he commented. “Well done, Mrs. Helen.”
She nodded before closing the door. “I appreciate the sentiment, Your Grace, but I assure you I merely helped Her Grace bring her vision to life. She was determined to have this improved by your arrival. It’s been done for three days.”
That felt intentional.
“To move so quickly and efficiently is quite the talent. She is fortunate to have you at her side. She’s… She has done very well,” Owen said.
The compliment fell awkwardly on his tongue, but Owen felt it needed to be said. Though he supposed he should be saying this to Georgiana herself, he wasn’t certain he was ready to be so honest with her.
“Thank you, Duke.”
He froze as his wife glided around the corner. Unable to take his eyes off her, he noted the stunning gown covered in bright beading. Georgiana wore a matching headdress, and he could have sworn her eyes sparkled more than the glass she carried in her hands.
“Ah. You’re… here.”
“Yes, Duke. We both live here. I’ve just returned from a masquerade ball,” she supplied when he couldn’t stop staring at her. A hesitant smile crossed her lips as he slowly met her gaze. “It was quite the event. You were missed, Duke.”
He straightened. “Owen. You may call me Owen. We discussed this.”
Slowly shrugging one shoulder, Georgiana murmured, “You come home a week later and want to argue?”
“No, I’m not arguing. I’m only…” He paused. Was this awkwardness as evident to her as it was to him? Frustration tugged at his insides. “It’s late. You should retire. I shall do the same. Good night, my wife.”
“Good night,” she whispered when he passed by her.
