Mrs. Laycock curtsied and Jarvis inclined his body into the bow that had stiffened noticeably the very day of his promotion. The duke smiled and greeted them.
Sybil had not come outside or even into the hall to meet him. She was in her sitting room, Mrs. Laycock informed him.
Almost an hour passed before he attended her there. Sybil would not appreciate being greeted by an eager husband dressed in the creased garments he had traveled in. He bathed and changed first.
His wife was reclining on the daybed in her sitting room. She did not rise at his entry.
“Adam,” she said breathlessly, smiling at him. The same beautiful, fragile, wide-eyed Sybil he had fallen in love with once upon a time. “Did you have a comfortable journey?”
He bent over her to kiss her and she turned her cheek to his lips. “How are you, Sybil?” he asked. There was a high flush on her cheeks.
“Well,” she said. “Bored. Sir Cecil Hayward held a dinner last evening and entertained the company with stories of his new hunter and praises of his hounds. I left early. I could not stop yawning.”
“He is, I’m afraid, just a typical country gentleman,” he said with a smile. “Have you recovered from your chill?”
She shrugged. “You are not going to fuss, are you?” she said. “Nanny does enough of that.”
“I must remember to thank Nanny, then,” he said. “How is Pamela?”
“Well,” she said, “despite circumstances, the poor darling. You really must get rid of that governess, Adam. What whim was it that made you send her here?”
“Is she not doing a good job?” he asked.
“Pamela is too young to be spending hours in a schoolroom,” she said. “And she dislikes her governess. I would like to know what she was to you, Adam.”
“Houghton hired her,” he said. “Whom have you invited here apart from Chesterton?”
“Just a few people,” she said. “It was so dull here with you gone.”
“You know that you could have come with me,” he said. “I asked you. I would have taken you and Pamela both. We could have shown her London.”
“But you know you would have been playing jealous husband as soon as I smiled at another gentleman,” she said. “You always do, Adam. You hate to see me enjoy myself. Have you come home to spoil things for me again? Will you be scowling at all my guests?”
“Will I need to?” he asked.
“You are horrid to me,” she said, her large blue eyes filling with tears. “Did you know about the ball?”
“Ball?” he said.
“I have arranged it for the night after everyone arrives,” she said. “And I have invited everyone, Adam. You need not fear that anyone will feel slighted.”
“You planned a ball without me here?” he asked. “Would that not have struck our neighbors as strange, Sybil?”
“Can I help it if you take yourself off to London at every opportunity in search of pleasure?” she said. “I would imagine everyone would sympathize with me. It is to be an outdoor ball. An orchestra has been hired to play in the pavilion. A dance floor is to be laid on the west side of the lake—in the usual place. And the lanterns have been arranged for and the refreshments. I hope it does not rain.”
“This is all to take place in four days’ time?” he said. “I am so glad you thought to mention it to me today, Sybil. I hate surprises.”
“And I hate that tone of sarcasm,” she said. “You used not to use it with me. You used to be kind to me. You used to love me.” She started to cough, and drew a handkerchief from beside her.
“It is so hot in here,” she said fretfully. “I think I ought to rest now. The doctor told me to rest more. You will be anxious to leave me and go about your own business anyway.”
“Let me help you to your bed,” he said, bending toward her. “I would have brought a physician with me from town if I had known you were still unwell. Obviously Hartley is not doing you much good.”
“You never wrote to ask after my health,” she said. “I shall be quite happy to rest here, thank you, Adam.”
Don’t touch me. She had not said the words, but her actions had said them for her. The slight shrinking from his outstretched hands. The refusal to be helped. The turning of her cheek for his kiss of greeting. The duke’s jaw tightened as he stood outside her door a few moments later. The old familiar words, sometimes spoken, sometimes merely implied.
Would Pamela still be at her lessons? he wondered. Or in the nursery? He would go and see. He had missed her.
FLEUR WAS READING A STORY TO LADY PAMELA, although she knew that the child was not listening. She had seen her father arrive more than an hour before from the nursery window, where she had been with Mrs. Clement. But her nurse had not allowed her to rush downstairs to greet him and had sent her to the schoolroom soon after.