Servants were already there, prompt and polite, as Tristan glanced over his shoulder at her. “I wouldn’t go anywhere else.”
“Yes, but…” She managed to keep from walking too stiffly as she went around the horses to speak with him.
“Do you have a question, or might we step inside?” he asked.
Verity shook her head. It was one matter to come to London. That was the sort of thing a proper lady would do for the Season. Especially a duchess. It had even sounded like an exciting idea to return to the spotlight and Society and excitement.
But already she had been here for over an hour, and nothing looked or sounded or smelled right to her any longer. It was all too bewildering.
What would a duchess do right now?
She forced a smile and nodded at him, the slight motion indicative of what he was supposed to do. “Very well. Let’s go inside.”
Much like outside, the house was filled with flowers and bright colors in the receiving areas. Verity was tired from the journey, but the bright wallpaper lifted her spirits quickly. After Tristan disappeared, promising he wouldn’t be leaving his chambers till the next day, she decided to enjoy herself.
Fortunately, the head housekeeper here was more than happy to give her a proper tour of the house. Mrs. Heavensby had a head full of white hair and a bright, toothy smile that charmed Verity at once.
“Right this way, Your Grace. If you enjoy this airy parlor, then you must see the sunroom. It’s not particularly meant for hosting, truth be told. It’s quite small for a salon or afternoon tea. Do you look forward to hosting?”
Verity stepped into the sunroom with a sigh. The housekeeper was correct. It was a beautiful room filled with light. Big windows occupied two walls, and there were even slanted lights overhead to let in the sunshine. Part of her worried about storms, but surely there were plans to mitigate any damage. Soft, buttery yellow walls welcomed them inside, along with the countless plants that drenched the room in their heady scent.
“This is wonderful,” she breathed. She rounded a corner when she thought she spotted something. “Goodness! Are these tomatoes?”
“Yes. We don’t eat them, but they are aesthetically pleasing, so the gardener, Mr. Daniels, still keeps them,” Mrs. Heavensby explained.
Verity nodded thoughtfully. “I actually heard that they might not be as poisonous as is generally assumed. Can you imagine? What an odd thing someone would want to eat.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“You asked me about hosting.” She dropped her hands, turning to the housekeeper as she wanted to gauge her reaction. “Do you think it would be a problem if I host sometime?”
Mrs. Heavensby patted her hair, looking everywhere but at her. “Well, I do believe this manor is more than befitting a proper hostess. You’ve not seen a quarter of the rooms yet. However, I do believe it would warrant a thorough discussion with His Grace, should you want to host.”
In other words, she wants the opportunity, just as I do. But she also knows that the Duke is not interested in such affairs. If he buys me a horse on a whim, then it cannot be about the cost. Is it because he doesn’t trust me?
“Mrs. Heavensby,” Verity asked after a moment, “can you tell me anything about the former Duchess?”
Dropping her hands to her sides, the housekeeper looked at her in astonishment. “Now, why would you want to know? Oh, there’s nothing good about dredging up the past, Your Grace. We don’t need ghosts on our shoulders. You do seem rather attuned to plants, however. Shall I show you the gardens?”
So they went outside to see the gardens.
There, they enjoyed the last of the sunshine. Rain started to fall on their way back, and Verity soon retired for a warm bath and a quiet dinner in her bedchamber with her maid. She wrote a letter to her friend and her aunt and then slipped into bed.
A new home required a new routine, Verity decided. She took short morning rides to enjoy the empty streets while all were abed, broke her fast in the sunroom, helped tend to the plants before taking long walks, and then spent the rest of her day inside. She wrote, read, and organized menus while learning about house management from Mrs. Heavensby, who was eager to teach her everything.
A week passed by, and the rest of the servants arrived. Her days were entertaining and educational, but eventually, she realized she had yet to see her husband anywhere.
“Philipson?” she asked when the butler came into the sunroom to clear away the tea tray. “Is the Duke at home?”
“Yes, I believe so. He returned…” He pulled out his pocket watch. It was a beautiful piece made of silver; Tristan had gifted it to him many years ago. “An hour ago. But I’m afraid I do not know his current location.”
She offered a wry smile. “Most likely, he is in his study. He really prefers working, it seems. Have you ever known him to try to enjoy himself?”
Seeing Mr. Philipson’s lips twitch was answer enough. “I believe His Grace finds great satisfaction in everything he does, Your Grace.”
“Very well, thank you.”
After organizing the old silver and replacing a faded painting in the hall with the housekeeper’s help, Verity took herself to the dining room. A small oval table sat in the corner, already set up for an intimate supper. Candles were lit before her while she dined.
