He knew what he would see even before he walked around to look at her face. She was crying-silent little heaves that she was trying desperately to control. Her lips were pressed tightly together and her eyes were screwed shut, but tears were leaking down her face nevertheless.
It shocked Nev deeply. He knew Penelope disliked displays of strong emotion, and it was so evident that she hated doing it that she must be miserable indeed to succumb.
“Penelope, what’s the matter?” He didn’t know if he should go to her. She hated that he was seeing her like this, he was sure of it.
Her eyes were dark and wet when she opened them. “I’m so sorry, Nev.” Her voice was rough with tears. “I’m all right-just tired. I tried not to-I didn’t want you to have to deal with a hysterical wife on top of everything.”
He thought of Amy saying she was all right and him not knowing how to tell if she were lying, and panic shot through him. “Penelope, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’ll be fine, truly.” Her tears were slowing now. “I’m just being foolish.” She sniffled and began searching her reticule for a handkerchief.
He gave her his, and thought about what to say while she was blowing her nose.
She spoke before he could, however. “Nev, I’m so sorry about this morning. I don’t know what came over me.”
Nev found that he wasn’t angry about it anymore. He didn’t understand what had happened, but it wasn’t important just then. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” She reached up and began taking her hair down, as if she were just tired of the whole evening and wanted it to be over. He reached out idly and pulled out a pin, and she jerked away. “Don’t.”
Nev was appalled. She didn’t want him to touch her? “Penelope?”
She turned her face away. “I’m sorry. Just-not tonight. I’ll feel better tomorrow, but-not tonight. Just help me get my things off and let’s go to sleep. Please, Nev.”
He wanted to insist on an explanation, but he was terrified that she would say it was nothing to do with him. “Of course. Only-” He did not know how to say what he wanted to. “You know I want you to be happy, don’t you? You know that if you needed me to do anything, I would?”
She gave him a tired smile and nodded. “Thank you, Nev.”
So he changed into his night things while she unpinned her hair and took off her jewelry and her slippers and stockings. He unbuttoned her dress and unlaced her corset and didn’t let his hands stray even an inch, as much as he wanted to. They got into bed, and Penelope blew out the candle, and then she turned away from him and pulled the covers up to her chin.
Nev lay there in the dark. He didn’t wish Penelope were gone, and that he had his old life back. He just wished he knew why she was unhappy and that he could fix it.
It took Penelope a long time to fall asleep. She hated how unreasonable she was being. She hated that she had hurt Nev’s feelings-because they had been hurt, when she had asked him not to touch her. She wanted him to touch her. But she had found she couldn’t bear it, not then, not after he had been talking to Miss Wray, not when he was thinking about his former mistress.
It would have been the height of melodrama for Penelope to suppose herself the forsaken lover; she was still his wife, after all, and she had no reason to suppose he had been madly in love with Miss Wray. But that, somehow, was what stung; that probably Miss Wray had meant to Nev exactly what Penelope did. Nev had desired Miss Wray, and liked her. He was kind and did not want anyone to be unhappy. That was very likely all.
It would have been irrational to expect him to feel more for her after a fortnight of marriage, and Penelope knew it. It was irrational to ever expect him to feel more; she was hardly the sort to inspire a grand passion in anyone. She was ordinary-common. She had known it from the start. She thought grand passions were ridiculous, anyway. She hated that she wanted him to feel more, that she could not help wanting to be special.
And yet when he touched her, it felt so-affectionate. It felt like it meant something. And tonight she could not bear that it didn’t, and there was nothing to be done about it.
Twelve
The next morning she let him touch her again, and Nev seemed to feel as relieved and happy about that as she did. But relations between them, instead of easing, became more and more strained. To Penelope, traveling back to Loweston resembled nothing so much as returning to Miss Mardling’s boarding school after vacation. There was the same feeling of putting back on a heavy cloak of dullness and misery. She did not know whether Nev felt the same or if his silence was due to worry about something else-Miss Wray’s health, for example.
Neither of them spoke of Mr. Garrett, but as the days passed, Penelope sensed a growing unease in Nev. Their one substantive conversation (on how best to help Jack Bailey, a laborer who had gone to help his mother rethatch her roof the week before and returned with a broken leg) quickly disintegrated into bickering about which was better for invalids, chicken broth or French onion soup. Finally, on Thursday, Penelope looked out the window and saw a solitary figure trudging up the drive carrying a valise.
Nev was nowhere to be found, so when Mr. Garrett arrived there was only herself to greet him. “Welcome back to Loweston, Mr. Garrett,” Penelope said, remembering how badly she had conducted herself at their last meeting and ashamed for herself and her husband. “I know I had to bribe you shamelessly, but allow me to tell you anyway how glad I am that you agreed to come and work for us.”
He bowed. “Thank you, Lady Bedlow.”
“Martin will be here shortly to conduct you to your room. Take this evening to settle in. Tomorrow morning after breakfast, I should like you to meet me in your office so that I may show you the work I have done on the books and ask you a number of questions about the estate that I have been unable to find the answers to.”
He bowed again. “Certainly, my lady. I hope I can answer them to your satisfaction. My experience here is all years old. I did, however, take the liberty of purchasing several books and journals on the latest farming techniques, especially those popularized in Norfolk by Coke.” Halfway through this speech Penelope heard the door behind her open. It would have been rude to turn round, and so she saw Mr. Garrett’s eyes fly to the door and saw his shoulders sag a little in disappointment. Evidently it was not Nev who had walked in.
She glanced at his valise. If there were a number of farming books in there, there was not room for much else. “That was very thoughtful of you. I meant to do as much when we were in London, but somehow I did not find the time. If you will let me know how much you were obliged to spend, I should be happy to reimburse you.”
He inclined his head. “Your ladyship is very kind.”
She looked round to see one of the footman waiting by the door. “Martin will escort you to your room. Will you be joining us for supper? You are welcome, if you’d like…” She did not know how to continue.
He smiled ironically. “Thank you, but I am quite content to take my meals in the steward’s room.” Her distress must have shown on her face because his smile grew a little warmer, and he said, quietly enough that Martin would not hear, “It will be a deal kinder to Lord Bedlow and to myself.”
She nodded, but her heart sank. What on earth was the point of going to all this trouble to reconcile them if they were both going to be so wretchedly stubborn?
“Now, if your ladyship will excuse me,” Mr. Garrett said, “I should be glad to rid myself of the dirt of the road.”
“Oh, certainly!”
He followed Martin out. She heard their voices in the hall a moment, talking familiarly together. It surprised her, though it should not have.