As soon as Uncle Herbert moved away, Tristan hurried over. “How are you both faring?”
The ebony-haired lady at his side touched his arm. “Stop worrying, Tristan.” She turned to Priscilla. “Forgive him. He holds himself responsible for your predicament.”
Priscilla understood why Tristan blamed himself. But life was too short to worry. Only a few weeks prior, poor Mr Fellows had been knocked down and killed by a carriage whilst crossing the road on a foggy morning.
“Your mother is the only person who should feel remorse,” Priscilla said.
“It might please you to know she now lives with my sister in Ripon.” Tristan forced a weak smile. “I give you my word she will not trouble either of you again.” He turned to Matthew. “I know I have said so a thousand times, but I’ll not forget what you’ve done for me, for Isabella, for all of us.”
Matthew snorted. “As I have already explained to my wife, I am not a martyr, Tristan. At heart, I have always had selfish tendencies. Do not give the matter another thought. Besides, have you not heard the news?”
“What news?”
r /> “We’re in love.” Matthew gave a sinful smirk. “Surely it’s obvious.”
Despite knowing it was far from the truth, butterflies fluttered in Priscilla’s chest. The tickling sensation travelled to other parts of her body as her husband brought her hand to his lips and brushed a tender kiss over her knuckles. The same playful glint she’d seen when alone with him in the carriage flashed in his eyes. Lust, it seemed, could be mistaken for love if one was of a mind to deceive.
Tristan and Isabella stared at them.
“Then I would say the course of true love is rarely smooth.” A dubious look marred Tristan’s fine features. “Should either of you need anything while navigating the turbulent waters, you only need ask.”
Isabella nodded. “Our door is open, day or night.”
Matthew raised his chin. “There is no need for concern. In my tainted experience, we share the one thing most married couples lack — honesty. There are no secrets. We understand one another and so how difficult can married life be?”
Chapter 5
Standing together in the hall, Matthew and Priscilla were all smiles and chuckles as they said goodbye to their guests. Her aunt and uncle were the last to leave.
“Now, if you need any help with the household management you know where to come,” her aunt said in earnest.
Matthew almost snorted. The Callans were the last people to offer advice on handling one’s affairs.
“I’m sure I shall need your help with many things.” Priscilla clutched her aunt’s hands. “Once I’ve settled in here I shall be sure to call round.”
A frisson of guilt flashed through him. Despite knowing of her family’s failures, his wife showed nothing but kindness and respect to her kin.
“When you’re settled we might go shopping.” Aunt Elizabeth’s comment surprised him. Perhaps the woman knew nothing of her husband’s financial predicament.
“Shopping?” Lord Callan tutted. “Ladies and their fripperies.”
A smile lit up her aunt’s face. “Perhaps we might treat ourselves to new perfume from Floris.”
“That would be wonderful,” Priscilla replied although he noted the lack of enthusiasm in her tone.
“Well, Chandler,” Lord Callan said tugging at his collar as though struggling for air. “We’d best be off. No doubt my solicitor will be in touch in the next few days.”
No doubt? Damn right he would be. “I shall look forward to the event.”
Once left alone, an uncomfortable silence ensued. Despite outward appearances, Matthew doubted the transformation from bachelor to husband would be without its problems.
What the hell did a man do with a wife, other than the obvious?
Priscilla shuffled from one foot to the other, twiddled her fingers and sighed. “Well, now would be a good time to give me a tour of the house. Hopkins arranged for the footmen to take my luggage upstairs, so it remains for you to point me toward my bedchamber. Perhaps it would ease the tension if we got the preliminaries over with.”
Her nervous ramblings caused guilt to flare. Regardless of the promises made, he was unaccustomed to pleasing anyone but himself. Nevertheless, he wanted to make her happy. It seemed like a fair exchange. What sort of man would he be to take a lady's money and give nothing in return? But where the blazes was he to start?
His skill with women lay in one specific area.