The Plain Bride by Chasity Bowlin
CHAPTER THREE
They entered Rosedale Manor and were greeted by his butler. Had he known he’d be returning with a wife in tow, he could have had the servants lined up to greet her properly. But it was an unforeseen circumstance beyond all prediction.
It would have been a very small line of servants, at any rate. It was quite remarkable how one could economize on household servants when one wished to let the house rot around them. They saw to his comfort, providing meals and cleaning the chambers that he used on a daily basis. He’d made it a point that no wallpaper, no carpets, no draperies or furniture should be replaced, no matter how worn and tattered they were. If windows broke, boards were placed over them. If shutters came loose, they were simply left to bang at the stone walls. I roof tiles blew off, so long as the intruding water did not impede his comfort, they were left as is. And still the house soldiered on, seemingly impervious to the elements and his intentional neglect. It mocked him.
“Havens, this is your new mistress, Alice, Lady Mayville,” Sinclair stated. He could see the butler’s expression shifting with surprise, but only slightly. The man would never be so common as to appear as flabbergasted as he surely must be.
“Althea,” she corrected softly. “Althea, Lady Mayville.”
He closed his eyes even as he felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. How the hell had he married her and still didn’t know her bloody name? “Of course, forgive me. Althea. It’s been a long night and a longer morning yet.” To the butler, he instructed, “Please have cook prepare a small repast and have it laid in the breakfast room for my wife. Then instruct Mrs. Whitman to give Lady Mayville a tour of the house so that she may instruct her on which areas of it are safe or to be avoided. I mean to seek my bed and try to recover from the last eighteen hours.”
It was probably a mistake. No, it was definitely a mistake. The moment he said it, he knew he’d made another terrible error. But he was just so damned tired he couldn’t even think. It was his own fault—all of it. Hopefully, after a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, he’d be able to say something to her that wasn’t entirely offensive…and be able to remember her name. Blast it all.
“Forgive me, Lady Mayville. I shall see you at dinner.” And with that, he headed for the stairs, leaving her in the capable hands of his likely shocked servants.
And just like that,Althea was alone. With only a single valise containing her few meager gowns and the personal possessions her father had permitted her to take with her, she stood in the once-grand entry of Rosedale Hall, like a beggar asking for scraps.
“Your ladyship,” the butler said, bowing. “Allow me to show you to your chamber. You may refresh yourself, and then a light repast will be available for you. I’m afraid the chamber…well, we were not expecting you. It will not be your permanent chamber, but a guest room that has recently been aired.”
“I’m certain it’s fine. Thank you,” Thea replied. Could it all be any more humiliating? Her husband—well, not even that, really, so much as the stranger she had married—didn’t even know her name, for heaven’s sake!
The butler took her small valise and led the way up the staircase. Footmen were in short supply in the house, it seemed. The treads creaked ominously, but the wood felt firm enough beneath her feet. Of course, when she reached the landing, there was white dust on the floor where a bit of plaster had fallen.
“It’s the damp. We lose a bit more of that frieze with each rain.” The butler pointed to an elaborate scene on the ceiling above. “My apologies, your ladyship.”
“Do not apologize, Havens. You are doing as your employer has bid you. Following orders, even when they seem to lack any sort of sense, does not require any sort of apology.”
The butler nodded. “He is not what you think he is, my lady. There are reasons for what he has done here, even if we are not privy to them. Please do not think poorly of him.”
Thea heard the imploring note in the man’s voice and sighed. “I will not think badly of him for his choices about this house, Havens. That is all I can promise.”
The butler nodded, and they continued along the corridor. He showed her into a room that was neat and tidy. It did not have the same air of neglect and decay that she sensed in other areas of the house. It smelled fresh, and there was no dust to be seen. “This will do nicely, Havens. Thank you. Please inform the cook and housekeeper that I will be down in half an hour.”
“Yes, my lady,” he said, and exited the room.
Alone, Thea picked up her bag and took out the few dresses she owned and shook the worst of the wrinkles out of them. Placing them in the intricately carved wardrobe, she noted how shabby they looked against the fine furniture. They would fit right in with the remainder of the house, at least.
With that done, she began unpacking her toiletries. Again, there weren’t many. Her father had frowned upon any sort of vanity. She had a small bottle of scent that had been a gift from her aunt. There was a small box of hair pins. Her father permitted the heavy tortoise-shell pins and combs because, with the heaviness of her very thick hair, they were a necessity to appear tidy, rather than just for the sake of appearance. Her only possession of any real value was the cameo parure that had been her mother’s. She’d been permitted to keep it but had never once worn the jewelry within that leather case.
It took a very small amount of time to unpack her belongings. Seating herself at the writing desk before the window, she opened the drawer and found the materials needed. Penning a short letter to her aunt, she explained that she had married. Electing not to go into too much detail about the events necessitating the union, she simply described it as “quite sudden.”
With that task completed, she sprinkled sand over the page and carefully folded it, sealing it with the wax found in the drawer. Tucking it into her pocket, she considered how lowering it was that she’d have to ask her husband for money to even see the letter mailed. The small amount of savings she’d managed to amass had been taken by her father. He’d deemed them unnecessary, given that she had managed to ensnare a wealthy husband.
Thea couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. Her father often saw what was convenient for him. He wanted her savings, so she’d ensured a wealthy husband. He hadn’t wanted to pay for a housekeeper and cook, so her “complete unattractiveness,” as he’d put it, had been a generous gift from the lord. There was always a way for him to twist the situation to support having just what he wanted from it. He might have been a vicar, but he was as far from holy as any man could be. Of course, the same was said of her new husband. Many people spoke of his wickedness, of his perfidy, that he was a rake far beyond redemption. But she’d watched him in the village. He was kind to those when he had no reason to be. His drunkenness was cause for concern, but at least he wasn’t a violent drunk, looking to brawl with anyone who would raise fists with him.
Leaving her temporary chamber, she could see a flurry of activity at the end of the corridor. There were two maids rushing in and out of a chamber, each carrying an armload of linens. It was the master suite, then. His room would be on the other side. She hadn’t allowed herself to consider what would happen when he was sober enough to think of consummating their union.
How many times had she imagined that he would look at her? How many times had she seen him in their small village and wished that, just for a single second, his gaze would turn toward her, and he would see her? And now all she wanted was to disappear.
