Hamlin clapped his hands together. “Yes, I do. It’s all here.” He slapped the stack of papers.
Brenn leaned across the desk, spreading the papers out to read. He frowned. “These are in Italian.”
Hamlin nodded as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world. “I placed Tess’s money in a very sound business.”
“An Italian business?”
Hamlin sat back in the chair and smiled. “They should be worth quite a bit. And I’m sure you can now see why I don’t have an exact accounting.”
No, Brenn didn’t. He squinted down at the top paper, attempting to decipher the minuscule writing. It all looked like gibberish. Nor was there any monetary value, in lira or pounds mentioned in the document.
“Is all of her inheritance in these investments?”
“Yes.”
Brenn wondered what to do. He needed money. His fortune-hunting trip had cost him more than he’d planned. Plus, he’d purchased farming equipment for Erwynn Keep. He had less than thirty pounds in his pocket at this moment.
Hamlin rose. “Wait, one more thing.” He crossed over to a small leather chest sitting on a side table and carried it back over to the desk. “This is a wedding gift from Stella and myself.”
Brenn opened the chest, and then smiled with relief.
“Three hundred pounds,” Hamlin said proudly.
“This is so generous—”
“Think nothing of it.” Hamlin poured himself another drink. “Tess means the world to me. I expect you to treat her right,” he added seriously. “Cherish her, love her, honor her.”
Brenn looked up into Hamlin’s blue eyes that were so much like Tess’s and struggled with a pang of conscience. “I will,” he said solemnly, but he felt a fraud.
But Hamlin wasn’t able to read minds. Instead of denouncing Brenn, he grinned. “Capital! Now, let’s a have a drink to seal our pact.” While Hamlin drank, Brenn wrote a note to Mr. Goining instructing him to convert these investments to pounds sterling with all possible haste. Ironically, it was Harve, the footman, who answered his ring and set off to deliver the note and papers to his man of business.
Out in the grand foyer, the house was in an uproar. Huge trunks and hatboxes were piled everywhere.
They had not been there when Brenn had entered Hamlin’s study.
“What is this?” he asked, shifting the weight of the money chest from one arm to the other.
Hamlin snorted, a bit unsteady on his feet. “Tess’s trunks.” He turned to the butler. “Nestor, is there a problem? Why aren’t these loaded?”
“The first coach has arrived, sir, but we are waiting for the luggage coach.”
“The luggage coach?” Brenn frowned. He’d hired a coach to take them to Wales—at the tune of one shilling, six pence per mile—which sat outside, waiting. He’d not considered the need for a separate luggage coach.
Stella came down the stairs. “Neil! I am developing one of my headaches! I can’t abide seeing the front hall in this state. When will the second coach appear?”
“I don’t know, my dear,” her husband answered cheerily. “Merton, when will the second coach toddle along?”
Before he could answer, Stella interrupted, “You have been drinking again.” She released her breath in a huff. “Just once when there is something to be done, I wish you would stay sober enough to see it through.”
Hamlin rocked back on his heels, apparently unperturbed to be upbraided by his wife in front of the servants. “How right you are, darling. I say, you won’t mind if I take a bit of a nap, do you?” He didn’t wait for her answer but started toward the stairs. “Good-bye and good luck to you, Merton. Give my sister my best.”
He didn’t even look back.
Stella turned on Brenn, the cold look in her eye anything but friendly.
“I didn’t hire a second coach,” he told her.
“Didn’t hire one?” Stella repeated, as if he’d announced that he wanted to chop off his foot. Even the servants gaped in surprise.
“You must have a luggage coach,” she declared. “How else is Tess going to take all her dresses with her?”
Now it was Brenn’s turn to be shocked. “These are just dresses?”
“For this Season,” Stella answered. “Her winter wardrobe and the household items are to be sent by wagon. You did commission that, didn’t you?”
“I hadn’t even considered it,” he replied honestly. “What household items?”
“Tess’s furniture, the things that belonged to her mother. I had to have the whole house redone when I married Neil. I shudder to remember what it looked like before my advent. I was going to throw the old furnishings out, but Tess wouldn’t hear of it. She is very attached to all of it. It’s been in storage. Neil was supposed to have discussed its removal with you.”
“He never mentioned it.”
Stella heaved a world-weary sigh of exasperation. “Well, you must arrange for its removal. Of course, the silverplate will travel with you.”
“Silverplate? Yes, of course; it could probably come with us.”
“The chest is over there.”
Brenn looked in the direction that Stella nodded and found himself staring at a chest the size of a trunk.
He raked a hand through his hair. How would it fit in the hired coach?
He couldn’t let the silverplate travel unattended. There would be a danger of it disappearing. Plus, he did need household furnishings. The crofter’s cottage he’d been living in had a small bed, a chair, and a table.
Fine enough for a former soldier, but not the sort of style that a wealthy young wife would expect. “I can have her household goods shipped with the seed and farm tools I purchased. It should be leaving London in two weeks.”
“Perfect!” Stella said. “Write down your instructions and Nestor will see they are carried out. I’m certain two wagons will be enough for Tess’s goods.”
“Two wagons—?”
“Meanwhile, you must make arrangements for a luggage coach.”
“Can’t we leave most of it here and have it go with the wagons? I am anxious to be on the road.”
“You can’t mean for Tess to walk around naked,” she complained, and then gave a high, horsy trill of laughter. “Or perhaps you do!”
When she noticed that he wasn’t laughing, she cleared her throat. “Actually, you don’t need to worry about leaving before the luggage coach arrives. Willa can see to the arrangements.”
“Willa?”
“Yes, Tess’s maid. You couldn’t have thought she’d travel without her maid?”
Brenn stared with amazement at the piles of luggage. “This is incredible.”
“What’s incredible?” Stella asked.
“I came to London with little more than my saddlebags. I now have one wife, two coaches, two wagons, a household of furniture, and a lady’s maid. The whole situation is overwhelming.”
Stella gave him a patronizing smile. “My dear man, did no one tell you that wives were expensive?”
At that moment, he heard a sound from the staircase. He looked up…and his breath caught in his throat.
Tess stood there wearing a lovely peacock-blue dress and matching hat. The vivid blue brought out her coloring…but her eyes looked tired and there were signs of strain around her mouth.
“Good morning, Tess,” he said.
She nodded and came down the stairs, her head high, her back straight. The nod was her only concession to his presence. “Is Neil here?”
Stella snorted. “He’s gone off for a nap.”
Tess’s lips curved into a silent O. “I thought he would see us off.”
Stella didn’t answer, and Tess didn’t appear to expect her to. She turned to the butler. “Aren’t we ready to go?” she asked, pulling on her gloves. “Why is all of this still unpacked?”
“Because the luggage coach hasn’t arrived,” Brenn answered. Was she trying to ignore him? “Your maid will bring the luggage coach later.”
Tess nodded as if not really hearing his explanation. She turned to the butler. “Nestor, take care of yourself, especially when you get the croup.”
The man’s eyes softened. “Yes, my lady. May I add, you make a lovely countess.”
She smiled, brushed his arm lightly with her gloved hand, and murmured, “Thank you.”
Slowly, she made her way around the room, wishing the servants farewell, speaking to each by name.
They came from the other sections of the house as well: the cooks, the upstairs maids. Several cried quietly.
“She has her following,” Stella observed sardonically. “But notice none of her friends among the ton are here.”
Tess didn’t even miss a beat. “That’s because they weren’t ever true friends, Stella. You’d be wise to remember that,” she added.
Stella sniffed her disdain. “I thought at least mousy Miss Burnett would say her good-byes. Or that common Miss Carrollton whom you decided to take up with over the past week.”
For a second, Tess’s composure wavered. Brenn stepped to her side, placing his hand at her elbow. “It is time for us to leave.” He turned his wife toward the door, adding in a low voice, “Don’t give the cat the satisfaction.”
In answer, Tess’s chin came up at a defiant angle. “Farewell, Stella.”
“Good-bye, Tess.”
Brenn took his hat from Nestor, his other arm still carrying the money chest. “It may rain later,” he observed.
She nodded, seeming to concentrate on the stairs she was walking down. Her bottom lip had a suspicious quiver.
He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her.
“I don’t need it,” she said tightly. “I shall be all right.”
Brenn turned her to face him. “You are not alone. Not any longer. I’m here.”
For the first time since she’d come downstairs, she looked at him, truly looked at him. She had not forgiven him for last night. He could feel her resistance in the tension of her body.
He lightly touched the bonnet ribbon beneath her chin. “If you fall, I will pick you up. If you fear, I will protect you.”
The independence deep-seated inside her reared in response. “I don’t ask it of you.”
“That’s the way it is,” he said simply. “Together.”
She pulled back as if he’d said the wrong word.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, alarmed.
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” she repeated and climbed into the coach.
The coach he’d hired was a drab, serviceable conveyance, especially when compared to the green brass-trimmed barouche that had carried them from the church the day before. He’d put his money into the horses, a set of bays driven by a postboy who claimed to know the roads between London and Wales. Brenn’s own horse, Ace, the surly dark bay that he’d ridden to London, was tied to the back of the coach.
Inside, the coach was a cozy affair, especially since the silver chest had been set on the floor toward the far door. Approximately three feet high, its cherry-wood top was slightly higher than the seat.
Brenn took a moment to hide the money chest under the seat. Then Nestor claimed his attention with a question concerning the luggage wagon. By the time he’d returned, Tess had moved the silver chest so that it sat directly in the center of the small confines of the coach. She sat on one side, and apparently planned for him to sit on the other.
So, she thought she could erect a fence between them. She was wrong, but he didn’t say anything.
Instead, he removed his beaver hat and placed it on top of the chest like a signal flag recognizing the barrier between them.
Tess appeared not to notice. She stared out the window, her chin in her hand.
He’d just closed the door when he heard someone call Tess’s name. Anne Burnett and Leah Carrollton came running toward the coach with unladylike haste.
“Anne!” Tess lowered her window and stuck out her arm.
“Oh, Tess, I’m glad I made it in time!” Anne shouted, breathing heavily. “My aunt refused to let me go out but I slipped out the servants’ entrance. I had to say good-bye to you. I ran into Leah on the street.
She had to come too.”
“You are both not alone, are you?”
“No,” Leah assured her. “My maid is following us but she couldn’t keep up.”
“Oh, Anne, Leah,” Tess said happily. The girls clasped hands.
“Be safe, Tess,” Leah said.
“You too! Don’t do anything foolish!”
Leah laughed. “There’s no need to worry about me.” She lowered her voice. “Was it what you expected?”
Tess shot a cautious look toward Brenn. “Different.”
Brenn frowned, wondering what she referred to…and having a suspicion.
“And you, Anne,” Tess said. “Send me a letter. I must know how you are.”
“I will, I will! But what is the address?”
Tess looked to Brenn. “What is the address?”
He’d wondered when she was going to finally acknowledge his existence—when she needed something!
“Erwynn Keep, Gwynfa.” He spelled the word for her.
She repeated the address to her friends.
“Are you ready to go, my lord?” the posting boy asked from the other side of the coach.
“Yes,” Brenn said curtly.
Anne and Leah’s eyes filled with tears. “May God go with you,” Anne said.
“And may He watch over both of you,” Tess replied, struggling with tears herself.
Brenn sat grumpily in his corner, feeling like a perfect dog for parting the three friends. Moments later, the posting boy shouted at the horses and they were off.
Tess leaned her head out the window and waved to her friends until they’d gone around a corner and were out of sight. She sat back in the seat. A sniffle escaped.
He pulled out his handkerchief a second time and offered it. She took it without comment.
He sat in silence, giving her time to compose herself. At last, she had a rein on her emotions. Other women would be boo-hooing all the way to Wales, but not Tess. She had bottom.
He thought about telling her that, too, but she spoke first. Without looking at him, she said, “I know we are married and you have the right to my bed. But I’ve been thinking, and I believe it best if we remain cordial and not do what we did again last night too often.”
Brenn stared at her, uncertain that he’d heard her correctly.
She didn’t elaborate further but pulled out a book from a satchel the servants had loaded earlier and proceeded to start reading.
He frowned. “Wait a moment, Tess. I don’t feel cordial at all. Cordial is a damn cold emotion. You’re my wife. And I expect you to be such in every sense of the word.”