The Ideal Wife(25)

“Yes,” she said. “Always. I’m sorry, Miles. I am afraid you are going to find that I am not the wife you said you wanted and thought me to be.”

“So far,” he said, laughing, “you are just the wife I want. Now, I need your help.”

She stared at him.

“My mother is on the way to London,” he said, “with my two sisters. My mother and Constance, my younger sister, are coming from a lengthy stay with Lord Galloway and his family, friends of my mother’s. Prudence is traveling with them, though she is married. Her husband will be joining her here later.”

“And you are wondering how you are going to explain me to them?” Abigail asked. “They will die of shock, won’t they?”

“I hope nothing so drastic,” he said, grinning at her. “But yes, the moment may be an awkward one. I am afraid they all dote on me because I am the only male in the family. And while that situation has its definite advantages, it also has one distinct drawback. They all think they own me and know far better than I how my life should be lived.”

Abigail nodded. He had said something similar before. She understood that he had married her so that she would be some sort of buffer between him and his female relatives. Quiet, sensible, and good-natured. Oh, dear. Poor Miles!

“When?” she said. “When are they coming?”

“Perhaps today,” he said. “Certainly within the next few days. Will it put a great strain on you to meet them so soon?”

“There will probably not be nearly so great a strain on me as on them when they have met me,” she said. “I, after all, have some prior warning.”

“You are very brave,” he said. “You make a great effort to overcome your shyness, don’t you, Abby? I noticed that yesterday. I just hope that meeting my mother under such circumstances will not prove too much for you. I have been very selfish, haven’t I? But don’t answer that, please. I know I have been selfish.

“And I have been delighted to find this morning,” he said, getting to his feet and coming up behind her chair to rest his hands on her shoulders, “that you are not quite silent after all, Abby. It is difficult to make conversation with someone who has nothing whatsoever to say.”

Not quite silent. Did he realize that he had just made the understatement of the century? Abigail stared meekly at her plate.

He bent and kissed the back of her neck.

“Do you think we could have fallen violently and insanely in love when you called here three days ago?”he said.

“What?” She turned in her chair to look into his face, which was still bent over her.

“For my mother’s benefit,” he said. “It will make matters a great deal simpler than if we tell the truth.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it will. I can see that.”

“You will do it, then?” he asked. He was grinning at her, his blue eyes dancing, his dimple pitting his cheek, his teeth very white and very even—she had not particularly noticed that perfection before.

“Yes,” she said. “Better that than have her think us quite insane.”

He bent his head closer and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You are a good sport, Abby,” he said. “Shall we spend the day together? There is a great deal we have to learn about each other, as I think we have both realized this morning. How does a drive out to Kew Gardens sound?”

“Quite splendid,” she said. “I have never been there.”

“Run upstairs and fetch your bonnet, then,” he said. “I shall have my curricle brought around.”

Abigail ran, forgetting on her way her earlier plans for talking with Mrs. Williams and exploring the house. Her father had never taken either her mother or her stepmother anywhere except to the occasional assembly, from which he had always returned home drunk. Mr. Gill never took his wife anywhere.

But Miles was going to take her to Kew Gardens. And he had suggested that they spend the day together. It was still quite early morning.



IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON by the time they returned, having strolled at their leisure in Kew Gardens and admired the flowers and the trees and lawns, and having exchanged more information about their families.

Abigail kept hearing herself doing most of the talking and clamped her teeth together every time she became aware of it. But a minute or so later her husband would ask a question that would set her going again. And he smiled at her and laughed at much of what she said, so that she began to feel that after all it was not such a terrible thing to be so talkative.

She did not tell him a great deal about her father. And nothing at all about her mother or Rachel, her stepmother. Despite all her chatter, she was selective in what she said.#p#分页标题#e#