Later, he realized. Later he could remove her glove and so much more.
He gave her hand a final squeeze and let it go as if it were about to ignite him in a ball of flames.
Damn Sebastian and his nonsense.
It seemed an age before the last of the guests bid them their goodbyes. He hadn’t tasted the food, he’d drunk far too much of the wine, and he couldn’t have named a single guest at the affair if someone had threatened the life of his horse. It seemed his entire plan was falling to pieces around him as he couldn’t stop thinking about his wife.
Wife.
Her smile, her endearing expressions, her wit, her charm.
He hadn’t factored into his plan the need for a woman prepared for the demands the title of duchess brought with it, but he’d found much to his delight Eliza had no qualms on the matter. Likely because she was the daughter of a duchess herself.
She moved smoothly from guest to guest, earls and countesses to marquesses and marchionesses. She nodded politely, said all the right things, and made all the correct comments. He heard nothing but commendable remarks regarding his wife and the guests had filtered out with contented smiles and valuable promises of invitations.
Only he noticed the stiffness about her. While she was well trained, she didn’t take to it naturally. Henry stayed by her side, and he saw her hand slip to the dog more than once as if she drew comfort from him. He recalled what she had said that first night he met her. He wondered suddenly if dogs were the only creatures from which she’d drawn comfort.
God, he was in for it now. Why had he not considered the virginal state of his wife before this? Hadn’t she said she’d never been kissed before on that fateful day in the Ravenwood drawing room?
A wash of worry swept over him. He was used to widows and unhappy wives. He was not used to virgins, especially ones that tugged at his heartstrings like she did. He was in very real danger here. Perhaps Sebastian had been right.
Soon the halls of Ashbourne House quieted, and they were left standing in the foyer bidding goodbye to her family.
Or rather, he stood by as her sisters prodded and poked her.
One toyed with a curl of her hair that had escaped a pin, informing her of the importance of a good curling rod. Another examined her gown informing her how it could be altered to be reworn now that so many had seen her wearing it at her wedding. And the third, well, this one hung back, petting the dog and assuring Henry he would be well treated and if he weren’t, there was no sin in a corrective bite.
He swallowed.
“I assure you Eliza is nothing like her sisters.”
Ashbourne turned at the voice to find the Duke of Ravenwood standing mere inches away.
“I suppose you mean that in a positive way,” Ashbourne said.
Ravenwood’s expression was closed, but he gave a sidelong glance.
“My sister is a good woman despite what society may think of her. You will never find fault in her character.”
Ashbourne’s chest tightened. That was precisely of what he was afraid.
“I am beginning to understand that.” He watched Eliza attempt to extract herself from her sisters and herd them to the door.
Ravenwood said nothing more and stepped aside as his sister approached. Eliza gave a final farewell to each of her sisters, tangling Henry between their legs. He stepped back to give her more room and allow the dog to find his perch by his mistress’s side. He still had some morsels rolled in the handkerchief in his pocket, which he hoped would help acclimate the poor dog to his new home.
He wasn’t sure why he felt a sudden pang for the collie, but he had likely known only one home his whole life and now everything would be upset.
Ravenwood stepped up and kissed his sister goodbye, making his own attempt to herd his sisters to the door. Dax was focused on Henry so when someone grabbed his arm, he started. He expected to see Ravenwood but was surprised instead to find it was one of his bride’s sisters. It was the one who had encouraged Henry to take up biting. He thought her name was Johanna, but he was honestly having trouble telling them apart.
She smiled rapturously and leaned in close to whisper, “If you do anything to hurt her, I will have your ballocks.”
She stepped away before he had a chance to respond and waved enthusiastically with the rest of her sisters. He swallowed and, not quite meeting her eyes, raised a hand in farewell. Eliza gave one final call before the door shut, leaving him utterly alone with his wife.
The resulting silence drummed in his ears like a stampede of wild boar.
He cleared his throat, “Eh, that was…”
“Awful.” She spoke the word with such grave enormity he couldn’t help but laugh.
She looked at him sharply, a stamp of wariness on her features before she realized he’d thought her funny. Her face relaxed and she bent to remove Henry’s lead. The dog stood and turned to face him, nuzzling at his hand.
“Do you have more of that ham in your pockets?” Eliza asked.
He eyed her. “He can smell it?”
She frowned every so delicately. “He is a dog. Of course, he can smell it.”
Henry raised a single paw as if requesting a morsel.
Dax withdraw the handkerchief and gave the dog the last of the ham. This seemed to satisfy him as he sat and whined softly at his mistress.
Then they stood there.
His plan hadn’t exactly included what was to happen after he secured a wife. He had expected to be so disinterested in her person as to not require her presence further, but terribly enough, he found he didn’t want the day to end for then he would have no cause to be in Eliza’s company.
“Would—” He didn’t have an end to that sentence as he scrambled to find a reason to keep Eliza next to him.
“Henry will need to do business,” she said, thankfully cutting him off. “Would you be so kind as to direct me to the gardens?”
It took him a moment to interpret what she meant by Henry needing to do business, and his hesitation cost him.
Carver, the Ashbourne butler, had been standing by after seeing the last of the guests out, and at Eliza’s question he stepped forward.
“I should be happy to show you the gardens, Your Grace.” Carver gave a bow. “And if you are not too tired, the servants would very much enjoy making your acquaintance.”
He opened his mouth to interject, but Eliza spoke over him.
“Thank you…” She waited to allow Carver to give an introduction.
“Carver, Your Grace. I am the butler here at Ashbourne House. Should you require anything, I am here to serve you.”
Eliza showered Carver with one of her soft smiles. “Thank you, Carver. I should be happy with both of your suggestions. Come, Henry.”
Before he could think of something to say, he was already alone in the foyer, his hardly married wife having deserted him.
But that was not what bothered him most. What bothered him was how much it hurt to see her go.
Chapter 5
Ashbourne had had a sofa installed in her bedchamber.
It was clear the piece did not belong as it did not match the other Queen Anne furniture in the room. The sofa was a solid piece with boxy legs, which suggested it had been recently purchased. Henry deemed it acceptable as he immediately pounced upon it when the housekeeper, Mrs. Fitzhugh, had shown her to her rooms.