At least now he had a strategy to pursue.
The first thing Clarissa noticed when she entered the dining room two hours later was the rose lying across her plate. The second thing was Edwin, looking breathtaking in his black superfine and snowy cravat, standing at the other end of the table and watching her with the intensity that always made her shiver deliciously.
Guilt stabbed her anew. She hadn’t had a moment alone with him since their arrival. The staff had bombarded her with enthusiastic welcomes and then had ushered her up to dress for dinner in the suite of rooms meant to be hers. Amidst the chaos of unpacking and dressing, there’d been little time to dwell on her appalling behavior in the carriage.
But now, alone with him at dinner, she could no longer ignore it. Struggling for what to say, she took her seat and picked up the rose to sniff it. “How lovely.” She strove for a light tone. “Should I expect one of these every evening at dinner?”
“That can be arranged.”
His unconscious echo of her words earlier that had sparked their intimate interlude renewed her guilt. She had overreacted. Badly. She had to stop acting like a frightened ninny with him. She already had him asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer.
She would tell him everything eventually. Just as soon as she got her bearings in their marriage.
Coward.
“That’s a fetching gown,” he said conversationally.
The polite nicety startled her, especially coming from Edwin. But at least she knew how to play that game. “Thank you. It’s one of my favorites.” She settled her napkin in her lap. “You look rather splendid yourself this evening.”
She rather wished he didn’t. Because whenever he looked good enough to tempt her, it always seemed to end in disaster.
Well, not always. The part in the carriage where he’d pleasured her had been incredible. It was her own stupid fault that things had deteriorated from there. And she hated that. She hated being weak and afraid.
The footman placed a bowl of soup in front of her. “This looks delicious,” she said, fearing that she sounded utterly inane.
“If there are any particular foods you would prefer, just tell Cook.” Edwin sipped some soup from his spoon. “I believe you’re already familiar with her abilities.”
“I should say so.” She picked up her spoon. “Your mother chose her well.”
“Mother was always very good at hiring servants.” He glanced at her. “And I’m sure you’ll be equally adept at it.”
His oddly soothing tone made her halt her spoon in midair. “I shall certainly try to be.”
“That’s all I ask. And with that in mind, I was thinking that tomorrow we might tour our dairy and then the orchards.”
“I’ve been in your dairy and your orchards more times than I can count.” Why was he behaving as if she hadn’t visited Stoke Towers nearly every day in her youth? “I’m not sure what more I could learn from a tour.”
A small frown knit his brow. “Very well, then we can call on the tenants so I may introduce you to them as my wife.”
“That’s an excellent idea. We should start with the Gronows. No, wait, perhaps the Leslies up near the river—Mrs. Leslie has probably had her baby by now, and I would so love to see it.”
He sat back to stare at her. “How is it that you know almost as much about my tenants as Yvette?”
She shrugged. “I spent nearly every day of my childhood with her here.”
“I knew you and Yvette were close, but I had no idea you were at Stoke Towers so much.”
“How could you know? You were away at school; then I was away at school. And when I was home, you were too busy to pay much mind to a couple of girls romping about and going shopping in Preston.”
“Ah, yes. I forgot about all the shopping.”
“I can’t imagine how. You were forever lecturing Yvette about the bills.”
He stiffened. “You two thought me insufferable, I suppose.”
“What? No. We knew you were preoccupied by your father’s neglect of the estate, and by Samuel and his troubles. You had no time to spare for two chattering girls preparing for their debuts. Besides, you were always very serious and studious and we were always . . . well . . . not.”
He eyed her askance. “Yvette was studious. You were ‘not.’”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Now, that is the blunt and honest Edwin I know and like so well.”
To her surprise, he flushed. “Blast it, I was trying not to be so blunt.”
“Why? We’ve always been honest with each other, haven’t we? That shouldn’t change simply because we’re married. How does Shakespeare put it? ‘Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.’”
“God, I hope that’s not true.”
The words fell between them like a gauntlet. Too late, she remembered the requirements he’d listed for a wife when she’d been helping him decide on one.