Am I foolish to be so dissatisfied with the barren state of my marriage?
—Diary Entry of Miss Tess Blanchard
Ian raised no objection to the living arrangements when Tess insisted on sleeping in her own bedchamber rather than share the master’s apartments with him. So far from London, it hardly mattered if anyone knew their marriage was not a love match. Moreover, Ian wanted to avoid the maddening frustration of having his alluring wife in his bed without being able to touch her.
Thus, on his first night at the castle when he escorted Tess to her rooms, he merely bowed politely and murmured a brief good night.
The obvious relief in her dark eyes irked him. He’d thought Tess would change her mind about carnal relations once she understood the pleasure he could give her, yet she clearly had no desire for a real marriage between them. He would not insist on a consummation, though.
Despite his pledge, Ian found it hard to leave Tess there and make his way to his own suite in another wing entirely. It was even harder to purge the memory of her silken skin as he attempted to fall asleep alone in his bed.
He was not enamored of her other than natural male lust, Ian promised himself, but that alone was dangerous. Lust was a powerful force; it weakened a man’s willpower and clouded the mind.
So did the contradictory feelings Tess aroused in him. He’d felt an unanticipated gladness upon seeing her again after only a few days of separation.
He could have remained in London, of course, but he’d thought it best to join her in Cornwall, rationalizing that with Eddowes and Fanny Irwin as houseguests, he should be able to control his craving for his beautiful new wife. He was too jaded and experienced to fall victim to his own desires.
But if so, then why was he having such a damnably hard time forgetting his marital troubles and falling asleep?
The next morning, Ian rose at daybreak and met his newest secretary to discuss strategy for undertaking the library inventory. They had just concluded their conversation and settled in the breakfast room when Tess made an unexpected appearance.
Eddowes stood with alacrity, while Ian politely followed suit. She offered her friend a cheerful greeting, and when they were all seated once more, she explained why she had joined them at this hour.
“I know you are an early riser, Rotham, but I didn’t want you searching the castle without me.”
Before Ian could object to her planned involvement, Tess turned back to Eddowes. “Fanny says she will be down shortly, even though she is accustomed to sleeping a good deal longer. Do you mean to begin work in the library this morning?”
“Yes, Miss Bl—I mean, your grace. The duke and I were just discussing the particulars of our plan.”
“If it will not inconvenience you, Fanny can continue to write in the li
brary so she will have company while I am away. I don’t like to leave my houseguests to their own devices, you see, and I will be occupied most of today. After our search of the castle, I mean to pay some courtesy calls on my new neighbors.”
Ian broke into their conversation. “It isn’t necessary for you to search the castle again, love.”
Tess offered him a beatific smile. “Perhaps not, but I can show you the ground we have already covered. Shall we discuss the matter after breakfast?” Without waiting for Ian’s reply, she gave her full attention to his secretary. “Mr. Eddowes, pray tell me how Fanny’s friends at the boardinghouse go on. Are Fleur and Chantel keeping out of trouble?”
Eddowes sent his new employer an apologetic glance and launched into a discussion about two women, which Ian eventually learned were elderly courtesans whose acquaintance Tess had made during the summer when she’d taught special classes on diction and manners at Fanny’s London boardinghouse as a favor to Lily Loring.
When breakfast was over, the secretary asked to be excused to begin his cataloging and left Ian alone with Tess.
She evidently expected an argument, for her gaze narrowed as she took up the issue of searching the castle again.
“You cannot expect me to sit idly by, Rotham, while you take over the investigation of those mysterious clanking sounds.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“I might be of help, for one thing. As I said, I can show you exactly where we have already searched and save you from wasting time. The sooner we expose the ‘ghost’ the better. It is terrifying the servants, and me as well.”
“I doubt you are terrified,” Ian said in a languid drawl.
“Well, Fanny is. She was afraid to sleep alone the other night. And I won’t put her through that fright again.”
From the stubborn set of Tess’s shoulders, Ian suspected that he was fighting a losing battle. He raised his gaze to the ceiling for a moment, before giving her an exasperated look.
“Why did I think for one moment that you would behave like any other female of my acquaintance?”
Perhaps she could tell he was relenting, for her mouth twitched with the effort to repress a smile. “I cannot imagine. But I doubt you object because you think ghost-hunting isn’t a task for ladies. I think the trouble is that you are far too accustomed to having your own way. Your nose gets out of joint when anyone has an opinion contrary to yours.”