Be My Bride Read online

She knew her French, though rusty, was near perfect. The little man’s head came up, and a look of delight spread across his pasty face. “I assure you, madame, the honor is all mine.”

  “Oh, but you are too kind. A man of your skill, here, is nothing short of miraculous.” With the other servants wide-eyed about her, she stepped closer and lowered her voice, continuing in French. “I realize, of course, that my husband must have been a sad trial to you. His palate, alas, is not very refined, non? But I assure you, I will be a much more discerning judge.”

  The Frenchman swallowed, catching the steel behind her velvet words as she had hoped he would. “I will attempt to please, of course.”

  “I know you will. I will expect recommendations from you each Monday morning for every meal in the week to follow. We will meet in the library precisely at eight. I ask that you consider we are feeding three young boys with unschooled palates as well as two adults. Given that this is Wednesday, I will waive the recommendations for this week. I hope you will use this time to show me exactly how skilled you are.”

  “Oui, madame,” Henri muttered, breaking into a sweat.

  “Excellent. And Henri, if you ever serve my husband the slop you provided for dinner today, it will be the last day you serve my husband. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Oui, madame,” he managed in a choked whisper.

  Cynthia beamed at everyone around her and switched back to English. “It was delightful to meet you, Monsieur. I know our home will be better for having you here.” She nodded to the others and swept out of the room.

  Once back in her new bedchamber, she sank down on the embroidered stool near the empty fireplace and broke into delighted laughter. The look on Monsieur Henri’s face had been priceless, but the shocked look on Evenson’s usually impassive face had been even better. That should teach the man to treat her Daniel with anything less than respect!

  She choked on her laughter. Her Daniel? What was she thinking? For that matter, what was she doing meddling in his affairs? She was acting as giddy as the child she had once been. Daniel Lewiston had been master of this house for years. What right had she to walk in her first day and order his staff around? True, the cook had been shirking his duties, but was it her place to correct him? She was mistress of this house under the flimsiest of pretenses. By this evening, she had no doubt every servant as well as most of her neighbors would know that the Master and Mistress of Lewiston House kept separate rooms. While this wasn’t unheard of among the gentry, it still made her feel guilty that she somehow wasn’t repaying his kindness. She supposed she would simply have to get used to the idea that the best thing she could do for Daniel Lewiston was to ensure that he had a well-run household.

  With this thought in mind, she approached Daniel in the withdrawing room that evening after a much improved supper. James was reading aloud a book he had found in Daniel’s “excellent” library to a rapt Adam, and John was sitting on the hardwood floor with knees to chest staring dreamily into the fire. She sat down next to Daniel on the nearby sofa and lowered her voice so as not to disturb her sons.

  “Thank you for being so good to us,” she murmured, gathering courage from the smile he gave her back. “I have been thinking about our lives here, and I wondered if you’d mind if I made a few changes?”

  His smile deepened. “If they’re anything like the change you made in Monsieur Henri, I’d be delighted. That was the best food I think I’ve ever had.”

  She blushed. “Your chef and I simply reached an understanding. I don’t know if I’ll have such luck elsewhere.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Daniel encouraged her. “What else do you wish to change?”

  “Well, for one thing, would you mind if we sat a little closer at the dining table?”

  He chuckled. “It is a bit of a shout when we try to converse. I’ll tell Evenson to set all five places near the head. What else?”

  “Do you think the boys might have a tutor?” she ventured.

  Daniel nodded. “Certainly. Although I wondered about Mr. Wellfordhouse’s classes at the vicarage. They’d have a chance to meet other children that way. The class is small now, but it will grow once we have the school built.”

  Cynthia was surprised to find how easy it was to talk to him about matters. Whenever she’d raised such issues to Nathan, he had laughingly scolded her for worrying too much. “I think the vicarage school would be wonderful,” she agreed. “There are some things, however, the good Reverend won’t be able to teach them, such as horsemanship.”

  “We used to have an excellent stable,” Daniel replied thoughtfully. “I rode every morning for years, but I somehow lost interest after my sister Cerise married. I suppose it was just one more thing to do alone. I’d be delighted to take the boys riding whenever you’d like. And you too, of course.”

  “You’ll have to get us riding outfits, then,” Cynthia replied with a laugh. “There isn’t much call for horsemanship on the Bristol docks.”

  “Done.” He grinned. “We’ll have a tailor and seamstress in from Wells tomorrow.”

  But even when the tailor and seamstress had measured them and scurried off to make riding outfits and several other items Daniel commissioned, riding proved to be difficult. Daniel took the boys and Cynthia down to the stables to inspect the horses; however, Cynthia was disappointed to find the animals old and entirely too docile for all but Adam. Seeing her disapproval, Daniel suggested they purchase suitable mounts. Cynthia brightened, until he called for the carriage to take them to visit Enoch McCreedy.

  Mr. McCreedy was well known about Wenwood for two things: fine horses and a foul temper. Even when he was a young man of twenty her father had refused to deal with him, and she could only assume that Jonathan had followed suit. She remembered her mother sweeping her skirts aside to keep from touching him as they passed in the village. He had leered at her and spat on her shoes. It took a strong person to deal with Enoch McCreedy and come out the better for it. She wasn’t sure Daniel had that strength.

  She managed to convince him to leave the boys at home with Evenson and the footman to watch them (soothing the boys with the idea that the exact color of their horses would then be a surprise). She kept him busy during the ride across the village by asking him questions about his sisters – when they had married, how they were getting on, how many children they had by now. She nodded and chatted, but all the while her mind was elsewhere.

  What skill did she possess that might allow her to help Daniel? She had learned to bow and scrape to the servants of the merchants in Bristol so that she might earn a living darning socks and mending clothes. She seemed to remember how to behave with arrogance befitting gentry if her handling of Monsieur Henri was any indication. But would either approach allow her to help a kind man like Daniel purchase horses from a tyrant like Enoch McCreedy?

  Daniel was more than happy to recount tales of his many nieces (all his sisters having had daughters so far), but he knew by the way Cynthia’s eyes kept darting to the window that her thoughts weren’t entirely on what he was saying. He supposed she’d heard stories about Enoch. The man certainly had figured largely in local lore. Daniel had met him a few years ago at a horse auction and struck up a conversation. He had been the only one to stay when the man began cussing and spouting bile, amazed by how easily Enoch vilified anyone who crossed his path. It was obvious to him that the man was as alone as he was, and, once he had shown Enoch he wasn’t to be turned aside so easily, they had struck up an odd friendship. He had little doubt the man could sell him some prime blood, but he wasn’t sure how Cynthia would react to Enoch’s personality.

  “Perhaps you should wait in the carriage,” Daniel tried when they arrived at the farmstead. “It’s a bit dusty, and I wouldn’t want you to ruin your gown.”

  As she had chosen to wear the black dress again, she could hardly agree with him. “I’m not afraid of a bit of dust. I would like to help you select the horses for the boys, if you don’t mind.”

 
; He could hardly gainsay her. Glancing out the carriage window, he saw that several horses were already out in a paddock some distance away from the main stable. “All right, then. Suppose you go with Jeffers over to have a look at the mounts, and I’ll see if I can’t scare up Enoch.”

  It wasn’t exactly what she had had in mind, but she couldn’t find a reason to argue. With great misgivings, she allowed the footman to lead her over to the fenced area where she could survey the horses.

  Daniel let her go with equal misgivings, then hurried into the dark stable to find his friend. Enoch was exactly where Daniel had thought he’d find him, back in one of the stalls, checking on one of the stallions he used for stud service. The tall, thin, craggy man glanced up as Daniel neared, running a hand back through black hair that was graying at the temples and narrowing sharp blue eyes.

  “Didn’t think to see you so soon,” he muttered, setting down the stallion’s hoof and patting the brute as he exited the stall. “Married folks usually have better things to do.”

  “Nice to see you again too, Enoch,” Daniel said, grinning at him.

  He stumped along the aisle, and Daniel fell in beside him. “I suppose she made you come.”

  “We need horses. Where else would we go?”

  He spat into the straw at his feet. “I heard she was a tartar. You were lucky when you were a lad – she ran away on you before you had to offer. Should have learned your lesson then.”

  Daniel couldn’t imagine why, but for once Enoch’s words stung. He tried to ignore it and focus on what he had come for. “So, what would you recommend for three boys and a lady?”

  They were out in the sun now, and Enoch waved toward the paddock. “Looks like she already made the decision.”

  Cynthia saw them coming. The man beside Daniel was taut as a halyard and as hard as a whet stone. She’d dealt with his kind many times in the Admiralty. Arrogance was the only approach they understood. She drew herself up to her full height for the oncoming battle. Unfortunately that only put her eyes on a level with Enoch’s collarbone. She craned her neck to meet his gaze as Daniel introduced them.

  Enoch spit at the ground near inches from her feet. She refused to move. “Well, which horses do you want?”

  Even though she had been expecting it, his insolence annoyed her. “I’m sure my husband knows what we need for our stables.”

  “Your stables, eh?” He quirked a bushy eyebrow. “Last time I checked, they were Mr. Lewiston’s stables.”

  She started to protest, but Daniel slipped an arm about her waist and she froze in surprise. “Now, Enoch, you know how things are with newlyweds. We do everything together. And right now we’d both very much like your advice on horses.”

  Cynthia sucked in her breath, but whether it was a result of Daniel actually treating this creature politely or how warm his arm felt all the way through her black gown, she wasn’t certain. “I’m sure you’re quite capable of determining which horses we should purchase, Daniel,” she murmured as firmly as she could.

  “He wouldn’t know good horse flesh if it sat on him,” Enoch grumbled. “Any more than he knows a good woman when he sees one.”

  Daniel shook his head. It was obviously not one of Enoch’s better days. The only thing he could do was take Cynthia home before matters worsened. “Never mind, Enoch. I think we’ve seen enough for one day. Cynthia, let’s go home.”

  Cynthia trembled in suppressed rage. How dare the man speak that way about Daniel? How dare he imply that she was less than a good wife to him? “You’re quite right, dear,” she replied, head high, as she turned away from the paddock.

  Enoch chortled. “Give it up, missy. You just like to let him think he’s running things. Everyone knows who wears the pants in your house. The only shame is, Daniel doesn’t get to see what goes into them.”

  Cynthia turned bright red.

  There was nothing for it. Daniel turned and slugged Enoch right in the jaw.

  Pain shot through his hand, and he hopped back out of reach before Enoch could return the swing. The older man’s head had rocked back with the blow, but he didn’t stumble. He rubbed his jaw and winced. “Well then, I guess we all know how things stand. The three ponies, I think for the younger ones, and the bay mare for the lady. No charge. They’re my wedding present to you. I’ll have one of the boys bring them round tomorrow morning. Good day to you both.” He knuckled his forelock in Cynthia’s direction and turned back to the stables.

  Daniel stared after at him, hand smarting and thoroughly confused. He realized Cynthia was staring at him, eyes wide, all color fled, and he could only hope she didn’t think him as great a beast as Enoch.

  “Oh, Daniel,” she cried, throwing herself into his arms. “That was magnificent!”

  She was so close he could smell the scent of roses in her hair. Her body next to his was soft and curvy and seemed to fit against him in all the right places. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to force himself to push her gently away before she could see how she was affecting him.

  “Thank you, my dear,” he managed, wincing at the pain in his right hand. “But would you mind returning with me to the carriage? I’m not feeling particularly well.”

  Cynthia found she wasn’t feeling particularly well either. The feel of Daniel’s arms about her had been surprisingly good, and the summer day had suddenly felt much cooler when he had set her back from him. She tried to reach out to him, but he turned quickly before she could touch him. Self-conscious, she let her hand fall to her side and followed him back to the waiting carriage. Yet, she could not help marveling again at what she had seen. Daniel Lewiston, knight errant. It was a side of him she had never suspected existed. Could she have misjudged her husband after all?

  Chapter Eight

  Daniel’s defense of Cynthia’s good name was not the last of the surprises in store for her. She soon found that she didn’t know her new husband well, if she had ever known him at all. Growing up, she had assumed his timidity and awkwardness around her was part of his personality, that he approached everyone that way. Certainly nothing up until his gallantry at the stables had led her to believe otherwise. But a number of events over the next few weeks made her realize that there was a great deal more to Daniel than she had ever thought possible.

  The first event was the arrival of the horses from Enoch McCreedy. True to his word, he had sent study ponies for Adam, James, and John, and a darling spirited mare for her. In earlier days she would have thought the idea of Daniel riding the brute of a stallion Enoch sent as a surprise for him preposterous, but Daniel had no trouble mounting and galloping about the estate with evident glee. Soon she and the boys were cantering alongside him on a daily basis, the boys proud in their matching black trousers and jackets, and Adam proudest of all in his long pants. And she had to admit, as she admired the way the sky blue wool riding jacket and skirt flattered her figure and coloring, that Daniel’s taste in clothing was bang up to the mark as well.

  The second event was a visit by several of the village matrons, including Squire Pentercast’s wife Genevieve and her sister Allison, to congratulate her on her marriage and welcome her formally to Wenwood. Since she had run away to be married to Nathan, and neither his family nor her own had ever approved of the match, she had never had such a visit in her life. She wasn’t at all sure what to say or do, but Daniel welcomed the women to the house, chatted with them about their own families as if he’d known them for years, which of course he probably had, and in general let it be known that he was utterly enchanted with his new bride so that the ladies left singing her praises without her having so much as to remember to pour the tea.

  If she had thought Daniel was impressive at home, she was equally surprised to find him adept at social gatherings as well. Allison had ordered Daniel to bring Cynthia to the next assembly at Barnsley Grange, but Cynthia had hardly taken that seriously. She hadn’t danced in years, and she certainly didn’t want to subject Daniel to something he might find
uncomfortable. Besides, outside her pink wedding dress, all her dresses were much too dark and of poor material to make a good showing even at a country dance.

  She was therefore surprised to return from a ride with Daniel and the boys to find a rather large box sitting on her bed.

  “Oh, a present!” Adam squealed, having followed her into the room before continuing to his own to change. He clambered up onto the bed and bounced on his knees, setting the box to rocking. “Open it, open it!”

  James and John crowded in the doorway. John frowned. “A present for Mother?”

  Daniel put his arms across their shoulders and bent to speak in their ears. “Certainly. After all the toys we’ve bought, not to mention the new horses, don’t you think she deserved something all for herself?”

  Cynthia frowned at him, then at the box. “Well, I don’t think I deserve it. What have you done, Daniel?”

  His gray eyes twinkled with blue. “Open it.”

  Grimacing, she reached down and shook off the lid. Whatever was inside was wrapped in yards of white tissue. She glanced back up at him. He grinned at her.

  “Open it, Mother!” Adam urged, bouncing again in his excitement.

  She shook her head in exasperation and began unpeeling the wrapping. As the tissue began to open, she caught sight of rose satin, as soft as the petals of a flower. Eagerness seized her, and she practically tore the last of the paper off. In her hands lay the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.

  All of it was made of the delicate rose satin, with darker rose ribbon in triple rows around the high waist and full skirt. The rounded neck and small puffed sleeves were edged with intricate embroidery of white roses on emerald leaves. In the center of each rose was a small pearl. Similar roses seemed to climb from the ribbon at the hem to blossom under the gathered bosom.

  “Oh,” John grunted dismissingly, “it’s just a dumb dress.”

  “Very nice, Mother.” James nodded dutifully before John pulled him across the corridor toward the well-furnished play room. Adam reached out and patted the soft material.