Vicar's Daughter to Viscount's Lady (Transformation of the Shelley Sisters 2)

‘Neither, thank you.’ Elliott had a strong sense of being outflanked and out-manoeuvred, but the scent of the bacon was making his mouth water and the room seemed somehow warmer and more welcoming than usual.

‘Oh! Another dog.’ Arabella was looking down beside her. ‘What a very interesting-looking animal.’

‘That is Toby. Doubtless he is begging. Ignore him.’

‘I would not dream of feeding your dogs titbits. No, Toby. Good dog, go and lie down.’ She waited a moment. ‘Of course, he will not obey me.’

‘Nor me,’ Elliott admitted. ‘He adopted me when he was a puppy, but he has not grasped the concept that I am the master. You can try reasoning with him, that sometimes works. Provided you understand that this is his house now and we are here for his convenience, he will be happy.’

‘Ah.’ She smiled and he found himself smiling back. ‘A dog who thinks he is a cat.’

‘Arabella.’

She caught the change in his tone and put down her knife and fork. ‘Yes, Elliott.’ All the laughter had gone out of her eyes, and colour touched her cheekbones, but her expression remained pleasant and attentive.

‘About…’ He had been going to talk about last night, but he realised he had no idea what to say or even what he wanted to convey. He had made her his wife, that ought to be enough. He could hardly ask her over breakfast why she had so obviously found the entire experience so unsatisfactory.

The candid hazel eyes gazed back, as she waited for him to speak. He wished, suddenly, that she was not so obedient and compliant. It would be easier to deal with temper and a tantrum. He saw the colour ebb and flow under her pale skin.

He said the first innocuous thing that came into his head. ‘How do you intend to spend the morning?’

‘I want to explore the house. I will ask Mrs Knight to show me around. Then I will discuss the week’s menus with Cook. I have a letter to write,’ she added, the animation ebbing away to leave her voice colourless.

‘Your father?’

‘Yes. I really cannot delay it any longer.’

‘I have already written, setting out the provision I am making for you,’ he said. ‘Even though you are of age, I felt I should put his mind at rest. You could enclose your letter in mine.’

‘You have not told him—’

‘That he is to be a grandfather? No. I have also been rather vague on how we met. If he makes enquiries he will find that Viscount Hadleigh was staying in the neighbourhood in February and he can draw his own conclusions.’

‘Thank you.’ Arabella returned to taking small forkfuls of food. ‘I will write this afternoon.’

‘You are feeling more like eating today?’ The bacon was delicious. Elliott cleared his plate and got up to explore the other dishes. Fat sausages, mushrooms—he dug in.

‘A little. I know I must make the effort to eat properly.’

‘Would you like me to show you around the house?’ It had not been his intention, but he had a sudden interest in how Arabella would deal with this rambling mansion. It must seem daunting after a country vicarage.

‘You will be busy,’ she demurred. But he saw her eyes. It would please her if he did this. ‘Cook said that you did not normally eat much breakfast because you have so much to do and I have already delayed you.’

‘You are more important.’ Elliott found he meant it.

‘Where are we going?’ The stairs seemed endless. Elliott had ignored the ground-floor reception rooms, the main bedroom floor, and just kept climbing as the shallow treads of the old staircase got narrower and narrower.

Bella glanced to either side as they passed landings and glimpsed more steps, doors, changes in floor level. The house rambled, she realized; it would take time to learn it.

‘Do you want to rest?’ Elliott paused at last. There were no more steps, only a dusty landing with corridors to either side. Toby, who had been trotting behind them all the way up, took off down one, nose to the floor, stumpy tail wagging.

‘No, the exercise is good.’ It was invigorating to stretch her legs again. She worried fleetingly if it was all right for the baby, then decided it must be better than sitting around.

‘Just one more flight, then.’ Elliott opened a door to reveal steep stairs. ‘I’ll go first.’

Bella followed, telling herself that it was only natural to admire the long legs climbing in front of her. Elliott had muscles she did not recall Rafe possessing, but then, she had spent most of her time with him looking into his eyes, not staring immodestly at his nether limbs.

‘Do you mind heights?’ Elliott called back as he reached up and threw back a trap door. Light flooded down the stairs.