He needed to change his definition of his wife from ordinary and cooperative, to fascinating and troublesome and devilish appealing. No wonder he was floundering. He cringed as he admitted that he’d planned to buy a workhorse, and instead found himself in charge of a Thoroughbred.
Curious to discover what caught her attention, Garson rose to stand beside her at the diamond-paned window. When she didn’t shrink away, it felt like a victory. Earlier, she’d looked ready to bolt. His attempt to lower the room’s emotional temperature seemed to be succeeding.
“What’s happening out there?”
She pointed to where a brindle mongrel raced through the market with a string of sausages dangling from its mouth. A fat man in a blood-stained apron, clearly the butcher, lumbered after the dog, but the animal was going to get away with his thievery. “It’s so interesting to have all this activity going on around us.”
As Garson surveyed the frankly provincial gathering, a vague idea solidified. “You’d like to see more of the world?”
“Very much.” She turned away from the hubbub below to study him. “In recent years, I’ve been no further than the cattle sales in Exeter. I couldn’t leave Papa for long periods. You’ve wed a woeful rustic.”
How lonely her life had been. Pure drudgery. Her delight in Salisbury’s limited entertainments was proof of that. His plans firmed. “I’ve been thinking about what we should do.”
When the ease drained from her expression, he damned his unintentionally ambiguous statement. Her wariness was familiar from last night. “Oh?”
The tight little syllable made him want to curse, although a display of temper wouldn’t advance his case. “I meant our wedding trip.”
Of course he’d thought about last night, too. But he needed extreme care to negotiate his way through that thorny subject.
Her shoulders lowered, but her eyes remained watchful. “Aren’t we going north to Beardsley? “
He’d intended to rush her back to his estate, but now he reconsidered. Last night, she’d obviously felt completely overcome. Taking her to a new home where she’d feel even more at a disadvantage didn’t seem the wisest move.
Perhaps if they lingered on neutral ground, she might reconcile herself to becoming his wife more easily.
“I was wondering if you’d like a holiday first. This part of the country offers plenty of attractions, and the inn is good. We could stay a few days, take in the sights.”
“Stonehenge is only a couple of miles away. It seems a pity to miss seeing it.” She looked thoughtful. “Are you sure? You seemed so eager to go back to Derbyshire.”
He had been, when he’d thought Jane would fit into his life like a doll put inside a box. “I’d enjoy a short honeymoon.”
She looked strained once more. The connotations of a honeymoon clearly remained unappealing.
By God, he intended to change that before too long.
“It’s not the best weather,” she said.
“We’ll manage. If you like the idea.”
She considered briefly, then nodded. “I do. Thank you.”
He stepped closer and noticed her subtle shift away. He had so much work to do to make up for being such a dunderheaded oaf last night. “Then I’d like to go to London.”
“London?”
He took her hand. She never objected to that. “We could buy you some new dresses and go to a few parties. The season is starting, so I can introduce my lovely bride to society.”
“If you think so.”
He’d expected her to applaud his suggestion, but she seemed hesitant. “If you want to avoid society and just take in the sights, that’s fine, too. We’re newly married. People will grant us some privacy.”
She shot him a mocking glance. “As if we’ll be allowed to hide away. All your friends must be dying of curiosity about the woman you married.”
She was right. “Will you mind?”
“I’ll have to face them some time,” she said. “Probably better sooner rather than later.”
“Good girl.” He stared hard at her. “There’s something else we need to face, you know.”