Sighing, Mark stood and walked away. It seemed he was very good at that.
For the nextweek Mark kept busy. He still didn't know how to both avoid causing Ellen more pain and do his duty to his family.
Maybe she will be excited about the possibility of more children.He ran the razor over his stubble one morning.I’ve changed, grown deeper and better over the years. Why should I be surprised that she had, too? Perhaps I could build a life that shall make her happy.He snorted, recognizing that for the fantasy it was. “Don’t get distracted, old boy,” he muttered to his reflection in the mirror. “Domestic bliss is not on the agenda.”I owe the estate an heir. She married into the family, she knows she owes it too, as my wife. Keep it at that and you won’t be disappointed.
Dryden, his valet, looked up from his tasks in the closet. “Do you need assistance, sir?"
Mark eyed himself in the mirror, wiping a spot of cream by his nose with a warm, wet rag. “I have it. I shaved myself for eight years on a moving ship while sharing my quarters with other men. I can handle this now."
As he scraped the razor across his second cheek, Mark thought about everything he had to do. Over the past week he had aired out the house, hired a cook, chambermaid, and footman. The elderly caretakers who'd lived in the home while he served in the Navy and Ellen lived with her family had resumed their former posts of butler and housekeeper.
He had filled the study to the brim with his books already, and organizing them and purchasing enough bookshelves for them was his special project.
His father, the previous Lord Cottesloe, had purchased this townhouse as a wedding present. It wasn’t a mansion like Glenfall House, merely fifteen rooms and the attic for the servants. A far cry from the dreams he’d had eight years ago, of a life split between being an Oxford don and a man of prestige and status in Society. Maybe even founding a Royal Classical Association, like those chaps in the Astronomical Society. He couldn’t make up his mind which he wanted more at the time, which was perhaps whyjoining the Navy hadn’t been so hard a decision. Once, he'd thought he'd need his wife’s dowry of fifteen hundred pounds a year to supplement his own allowance for even a semblance of a good life.
Now he wanted peace and quiet. Navy life had shown him how little he needed for a decent life, but also how much he valued a little space and silence to call his own.
As if to punctuate his thoughts, a door slammed below. Voices rumbled in the small foyer.
Mark sighed as he turned the razor to get a particularly tricky corner near his ear.Probably Luke.Or maybe one of the twins is visiting London for the weekend.His parents had named their two eldest Matthew and Mark after family, but when their third son, Luke, was born, they decided to favor the Gospels. After John, there were no other Gospel books to follow, so the twins were christened Peter and Paul.
A woman's voice rose above the hubbub, urgent and clear.
So not Luke or John.Luke preferred the company of men, particularly his valet, and John so far didn't seem to prefer the company of anyone.
“I am the mistress of this household, and I can go into any room I choose.” The woman stormed down the hallway.
Dryden sighed heavily, as if already exhausted by the ordeal, and stepped out of the closet to the door.
“Wait.” Mark set the razor down on his vanity table.
The door burst open, and Ellen stood as glorious and furious as ever.
“Excuse me, the master is not fit to be seen. He is in a state of undress.” Dryden stretched out his hands, ready to fend her off. He approached cautiously, attempting to block the sight of Mark, clad only in trousers and socks, from her line of vision.
Mark, startled speechless by surprise and her fury, watched. She was beautiful again, her hair hanging over her shoulder in a loose braid, two of her jacket’s buttons mismatched, as though she'd left her home in a hurry. She was angry. She was alluring.
Since when do I find angry women attractive?
“I am his wife.” Ellen drew herself up to her full height, which was merely average, and glared at Dryden. “I can see him in any state of undress I choose.”
Mark grinned. He slung the wet cloth in his hands over his bare shoulder and faced her. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
Ellen peered over Dryden and looked him up and down. Her face turned cherry red, but she stole a second glance at his bare chest before glaring at Dryden. “This is a private matter.”
Dryden looked over his shoulder at Mark, who nodded. The manservant grunted, then strode around Ellen and out the door. In the hall the chambermaid, footman, and elderly butler stood gawking.
Mark walked past Ellen, who flushed an even brighter red, and shut the door firmly. “Now.” He turned to survey his wife, unable to stop himself from admiring her figure. Ellen, in his bedroom, while he performed his morning ablution, felt very intimate. And it had beenso longsince he'd had a woman in his arms.
Ellen raised her chin. She did that when she was nervous, he remembered. “I have come to see about moving back in with you.”
Mark crossed his arms, noticing how she refused to look at his muscles and bare skin. “Why?”
“Can you please put a shirt on?” Ellen muttered, glancing away.
Mark laughed and walked past her, back to the vanity and mirror. “Not until all the shaving cream is gone from my face.” He picked up his razor, wet it in the basin of warm water, and set to finishing his right cheek. He looked at her through the mirror. “Why?” he repeated.
Ellen pinked again and looked at her feet.