The Duke Didn't Want Love — He Wanted a Practical Wife. Then Her Carriage Arrived 40 Minutes Late
Chapter 3
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On the following morning, Helena stood at the tall windows of Lady Marian's house and watched a carriage being prepared for Briarcombe. The residence lay three miles outside York on the road toward the Duke's estate. Its garden was modest by aristocratic standards, but the household had the agreeable disorder of rooms where people actually lived: books occupied chairs; a basket of sewing rested by the breakfast hearth; no one apologized for either."You need not inspect my nephew as though he were a defective piece of china," Marian said, fastening her bonnet."I should not presume to do that.""You did so yesterday, very thoroughly."Helena colored.Marian's smile softened. "Avery has a good heart," she said, "but he sometimes believes that having the right intentions makes it unnecessary to ask what others need.""Then he is hardly unusual.""No, only unusually determined to remain so."The road to Briarcombe took a little over an hour in fine weather. Helena saw the hall appear beyond beech trees, its pale stone front grand without extravagance.Inside, Mrs. Agnes Bell received them with a courtesy so exact it might have been measured by a ruler. The housekeeper's expression suggested that nothing short of a lifetime of service could make a newcomer properly qualified to interfere with her arrangements."I have heard that you are fond of figures, Miss Morland.""I have had reason to become acquainted with them, Mrs. Bell, but I should not dream of examining your household without permission."Mrs. Bell's shoulders relaxed a fraction. "His Grace keeps the books in the morning room.""Then perhaps he will tell me about them when he wishes."Avery was waiting beside a tray of tea. He had removed the offending clause from his working draft, though he did not immediately show her. Instead, he asked what she had noticed on entering the hall."The silver is beautifully polished," Helena said."That sounds like praise for Mrs. Bell.""It is. The East Passage, however, smells of damp plaster."He stared. "You were inside the house for four minutes.""Five, I think. I may have spent a little longer admiring the silver."His unexpected laugh surprised them both: it was short, almost rusty, and he looked faintly embarrassed by it.With Marian and Mrs. Bell nearby, Helena noticed a dark stain in the servants' passage. A drop of water clung to the woodwork, though the day was clear."Was the gutter repaired?" Avery asked Mrs. Bell."In June, according to the summary, Your Grace.""And has the damp returned?""It never entirely went away."Avery looked as if he meant to summon someone that instant.Helena interrupted gently: "Perhaps it is another fault. It would be unfair to decide before seeing the work.""You are defending a contractor you have never met.""I am defending the distinction between what we know and what we fear."He considered that longer than she expected.Later, while Marian consulted Mrs. Bell about a forthcoming charitable visit, Helena sat by the morning room window, repairing the seam of an old glove with blue thread. One thumb had worn through, but the leather still had years of use in it.