He handed it back to her. “You won’t find fabric in the village. It’s too small for such a thing.”
“We’ll see,” she said, folding her list into quarters and tucking it in the pocket of her riding habit. She led Ace out of the barn.
Brenn threw an arm over the saddle, blocking her way. “I thought you were going to use your copybook to write.”
“I am, but I use the copybook for other things. My list. Willa’s letter of reference.” Resentment flashed in her eyes. “My writing is the one thing I’ve found of value in this marriage.”
“Ouch.”
She made an impatient sound. “Yes, I’m cer tain you are hurt. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.”
He didn’t move. “And what am I to do while Lady Tess rides into the village to visit the little people?”
“Your sarcasm is unbecoming.” She tilted her Tarleton cap to a jaunty level and said, “But while I’m gone, you should be making plans to sell the silver. We have a house to build.”
Brenn didn’t like being dismissed…until he realized there was one problem she had not anticipated. He smiled. “Well then, I will set to work. Enjoy your ride.” He started toward the cottage, knowing it was just a matter of time before she asked for a leg up. There was no other way she could get up on Ace, since they didn’t have a mounting block.
When he’d walked a quarter of the way toward the cottage and she hadn’t called him back, he couldn’t resist a peek over his shoulder. He stopped dead in his tracks.
Tess was trying to raise her foot high enough to get her boot in the stirrup. When that didn’t work, she led Ace next to a small boulder. Cooing for the horse to hold steady, she tried to get her foothold with the aid of the extra height.
Ace would have none of it. He sidled away. Tess tried again, and again.
Brenn had to say this for her: she was a stubborn woman.
“Can I give you a leg up?” he called.
“No, I’m fine.” She got her boot in the stirrup as she said it and climbed into the saddle. It wasn’t graceful, but she did it…except that she tried to sit sidesaddle.
“What nonsense,” Brenn said, just as she started to topple off the other side of the horse.
He went running up to help her.
She grabbed the saddle and caught herself in time but her venture had all been for naught. She was down on the ground again, her ridiculous hat sliding over her nose.
She shoved it back and glared at him.
“What did I do?” Brenn asked. “I was coming to help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Ah, Tess. It’s only a leg up—or mayhap you think you are going to sprout wings and fly?”
Her brows came together. She pressed her lips tightly, biting back a sharp retort no doubt. When she spoke, her words were clipped. “I need a leg up.”
“I beg your pardon?” he couldn’t resist saying.
“I need a leg up,” she repeated, louder, terser.
Brenn was tempted to make her repeat her request again but decided it wasn’t wise to tweak the tigress’
s whiskers too much. He laced his fingers together and leaned down.
She put her foot in his hand and he put her into the saddle. Again, she insisted on attempting to sit sidesaddle.
“Fork the horse, Tess.”
“That’s not proper.”
“Who’s to see if you are proper or not? Do you want to stay on the animal or fall off?”
Tess had obviously never forked a horse before. The expression on her face was comical. He placed his hand on her waist to keep her balanced. “I look into your angry blue eyes and your mouth that’s frowning at me…and have the damnedest urge to kiss you,” he confessed.
She swung her leg over to straddle the horse. “You can let go now.”
But he didn’t. “Tess, stop this nonsense. We are both at fault. You can stop making me wear a hair shirt.”
“I’m not doing anything of the sort. You are the one who said our marriage was a business arrangement.
I am just being businesslike.”
It was uncomfortable to have one’s words thrown in one’s face. “Tess, I was angry. I said some things I shouldn’t.”
She started at a point beyond his head. It frustrated him to be ignored—but then she spoke. “I feel like I don’t know myself anymore. Now I am not certain about anything. But I do know this. I will never be as trusting as I was before.”
“But you love me,” he reminded her.
“Do I?” She smiled, the expression sad. “The girl who said those words is changing. I have to build a life.
Hand me the reins.”
He did as she asked, uncertain how to take her words.
Her head high, back straight, she set off for the village.
Brenn couldn’t help but admire her. And she did love him—no matter what she claimed now.
He shouted, “You are far too proud for your own good, Tess Owen!”
She acknowledged him with a wave of her hand.
Tess was glad the village was as close as it was. Ace had a gait so jarring, her teeth were rattling in her head. Worse, it was uncomfortable to ride like a man.
She rode the horse right up to Cedric Pughe’s smithy. Since he was the only man in the village she knew spoke English, then she would have to talk to him first.
Pughe was a barrel-chested man about the same height as herself. His face was already wearing the grime and sweat of his trade. Three boys helped him in the open-air shop. They were obviously his sons since each had the same sad brown eyes and coarse thatch of black hair as their father.
Fortunately, Pughe had a mounting block, although her descent from Ace’s back was still less than graceful. She was glad Brenn wasn’t here to see it.
Straightening her hat, which had been jogged to an odd angle by Ace’s movement, Tess introduced herself. “Mr. Pughe, I am Lady Merton.”
Mr. Pughe lowered the hammer he’d held raised over his head. He stared at her as if he didn’t believe her.
Tess took a step closer to the fire where he worked. “Lady Merton?” she prompted. “Wife of Lord Merton?”
Recognition did not appear in his eyes. Maybe Brenn was wrong and Pughe didn’t speak English. Not knowing what else to do, Tess continued, “I am here because I need to hire help to work at Erwynn Keep.” She took her list from her pocket.
If the man understood her, he gave no sign. His sons also watched with the same slack-jawed look.
Perhaps they were not right in the head?
She didn’t know what to do. “I need a cook,” she said, talking loudly and distinctly. “Cook?”
The man frowned.
Tess wanted to grind her teeth in irritation. “Lord Merton said you spoke English. Do you understand me?”
Suddenly, he seemed to snap out of his lethargic state. “Good morning, my lord,” he called in a lilting accent.
Tess turned. Brenn was walking down the road toward them. He looked exactly as he had when she’d left him. He wore the same clothes, his neckcloth was tied in a devil-may-care manner, and he was hatless. He hadn’t even bothered to shave.
“Good morning, Mr. Pughe,” Brenn said. “You have met my wife.”
“I have, my lord.”
“You are seeing to her wishes?”
Mr. Pughe turned to Tess, his expression matching that of the most toad-eating courtier. “What is it poor Pughe can do for my lady today?”
Tess was about to tell him exactly what he could do with his silly acquiescence but she had a household to manage and no time for nonsense. “I wish to hire a cook and a maid. Are there girls in this village who are suitable?”
“Aye, my lady, my daughter. She can do both.”
Tess hadn’t considered having one person doing both jobs but it made sense, especially while she was living in the cottage. “Very well. Please send her up to the cottage.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Also,” she said, consulting her list, “I need a length of fabric. Something with a floral print. Where might I find such a thing?”
“Floral what?” Pughe asked.
Too late Tess realized the silliness of talking to a blacksmith about fabric. “I’ll discuss it with your daughter.”
“Very wise, my lady.”
Tess gave Pughe a sharp glance, fearing she was being made fun of. His expression was completely innocent—as was Brenn’s.
She frowned. She would not be deterred from her new goal. She turned and took a step. While she had been talking, it seemed as if the whole village had turned out. A dozen or so women, children, and a few men now stared at her with unabashed curiosity.
Brenn stepped forward. “This is my wife, Lady Merton,” he said by way of general introduction and then repeated it in Welsh. “Mae hi, Lady Merton.”
Some of the villagers gave her a shy smile. The children stared.
“How do you say ‘hello’ in Welsh?” she asked Brenn in a low voice.
“Hello.”
She made a sound of exasperation, her gaze still on the villagers. “In Welsh.”
“Tess, there isn’t a person in the world who doesn’t understand the word ‘hello.’”
“But I want to say something to them that they understand.”
“Try Bore da.”
“What does that mean?”
“Good morning.”
Tess smiled. “Bore da.”
The villagers looked at each other before a few repeated the greeting back to her. Several frowned.
Their silent criticism only served to make her determined to win them over. After all, hadn’t she once ruled London Society?
She decided that she’d been brave enough about taking charge of her life for one day. “Please send your daughter to the cottage at the first opportunity,” she said to Mr. Pughe and then began walking toward Ace. She decided that attempting to mount him again held too much potential for making her look foolish
—not to mention hurting her backside. Instead, she untied his reins and started leading him to the bridge.
Brenn fell into step beside her. “Aren’t you going to get on the horse?”
“No.”
“I’d help you mount.”
Tess stiffened. Something hard and relentless built up inside of her. She hurried her step.
He quickened his pace, his long legs easily able to keep up with her. “Tess, let’s go back to the way we were.”
She whirled on him then. They stood on the fairy bridge; the happy sound of the water on the rocks below mocked her. “I won’t go back. You make it sound simple, but it isn’t.”
“It is simple.”
“No, Brenn. I loved you. And although you never said so, I foolishly thought you loved me.” The words sounded naked in their honesty.
“I do,” he declared.
For a second, she stood in indecision. A part of her wanted to grasp his words close and believe. But another part, the part that had lived in the center of Society, that had seen how jaded men and women could become, knew his declaration was empty.
“Ours is a business arrangement,” she said. “Nothing more, nothing less.” With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, Tess jumped up and hooked her foot in the stirrup. Swinging onto Ace’s back, she kicked the horse into a canter for home.
Brenn watched her ride away.
Something had happened to Tess.
She’d changed. Almost overnight. Gone was the girlishness. The blind trust. The naïveté.
In its place was cynicism, but not defeat. Doubt, but not hopelessness.
In its place was a woman.
Even physically she seemed to have changed. Her eyes had lost their starriness. The set of her mouth had become firmer.
This morning she had been still confused but she was growing stronger. She would in time become self-sufficient.
He no longer considered theirs a minor quarrel. Something valuable might have been irrevocably lost to him forever. Something he had not recognized until he no longer had it.
He’d wasted her love. Budding, untried, innocent…regardless, it was no longer his.
He leaned over the railing of the fairy bridge. The water winding and bubbling over the stones below laughed up at him.
Over the next three days Brenn banked the silver.
He rode to Swansea carrying bags of eating implements and returned a wealthy man. He was even glib enough to establish a line of credit with the bankers using the Italian documents as collateral.
He also found a length of floral fabric for Tess. She thanked him politely enough. The color added warmth to the cottage.
But it did nothing to warm her heart toward him.
When her mother’s furniture arrived, Tess stored most of it in the barn but moved a bed into the house and fixed up one of the empty rooms for his use.
Brenn didn’t appreciate her thoughtfulness. He wanted to sleep with her. He missed her. He missed her warmth, the little sighs she made when she slept, even the feeling of her cold feet against his skin!
Once before he’d insisted she sleep with him and the ruse had worked…but Brenn wanted something different now. He wanted Tess to come of her free will.
As the days turned into weeks, he began to wonder if that would ever happen.
Work began on Erwynn Keep. He and Tess made a good team. She was in the process of learning Welsh. She had started before he’d returned home from Swansea. Banon Pughe, Cedric’s oldest daughter and their cook, was her teacher.
Brenn hired more villagers to till fields and prepare for a fall harvest. He was a month late planting crops, but the villagers assured him he didn’t need to worry. As the first green sprouts appeared, he began to believe they were right. It gave him great satisfaction to walk along his fields watching things grow.
Meanwhile, Erwynn Keep’s pitted walls were quickly repaired. A team of roofers was hired and in two weeks’ time, a new slate roof reflected the morning sun.
Tess continued to change. She blossomed with self-confidence and self-reliance. The darling of fashionable Society soon overcame her first impression and made herself the favorite of the village. She used skills honed on the dance floors of Almack’s to win over everyone, even the laundry woman. A people known to be reticent around strangers quickly accepted her as their own.
She’d started the habit of wearing her flaming hair down and tied back with a simple piece of muslin. It was not unusual to hear her laughing at some joke a shepherd had made or even a comment from the sweaty Pughe. But she had no smiles for her husband.
Every day, first thing in the morning, she wrote in her copybook. Brenn peeked in it once. She’d written about him only during those euphoric first days of their marriage, before they’d truly known each other.