Chapter 19
Marianne entered the dining room only to find it empty of all except Wellingford.
“Good evening, my lady,” he intoned with a brief bow. “His lordship is in the breakfast room. He felt a more casual dinner would befit the occasion since there are only the two of you. Would you follow me, please?”
Returning to the hall, Marianne followed the butler as he led her past a music room on the left outfitted with a pianoforte and harp, a library, also on the left, that looked as if it held the whole of the world’s published works, fiction and non-fiction, and then into the breakfast room on the right.
Yet another room in glorious décor, it still boasted the classic lines from the late King George’s Regency period. The soft pea-green walls made the room comfortable and inviting. Her husband sat at the table, formally but intimately set for two, in the center of the room. He had changed his attire seemingly to match the décor as he wore that deep shade of green that so flattered his hair color and coordinated well with the room.
He rose to meet her and brought her fingertips to his lips. “Marianne, you look delightful. I see a little rest and a change of scenery has brought the peaches back into your cheeks. Come, sit.” Releasing her hand, he pulled out her chair so she could settle then he returned to his own side of the table. “I checked in on our little Andrea and found Jane had fed her and tucked her in for the night. Evidently the journey exhausted her more than we expected. So, I thought we’d dine in here where we could chat about our plans without shouting along the length of the formal dining table.”
Marianne shifted slightly as Wellingford placed the linen napkin in her lap. “This is lovely, Drew. It gives me a chance to see another room in this incredible house. I cannot believe the size of it and how many people it must take to maintain.”
Drew leaned back as a bowl of steaming soup was placed before him. “I’ve always thought of it as a monstrosity. Once Mother passed on, we did little entertaining. It’s much too large for two people who rarely speak to each other.” Tasting the soup, he nodded at Wellingford who then served Marianne. “My father left me to the nanny and governess most of the time. Once I was old enough, Father shipped me off to Eton and seemingly forgot me while he went through the family funds chasing after one shady thimblerig after another.”
Marianne scooped up a spoonful of soup, then gently blew on it. “It must have been difficult for you.” She sipped cautiously at the steaming broth, a concoction containing spring vegetables amidst the flavor of chicken. Finding it delicious and just the right temperature, she continued to eat.
“It’s no wonder I became such a fop in my younger years.” He, too, sipped soup, then continued with explanations. “With no guidance from my surviving parent, I clung to whatever guidance I could find with no way to judge its value.”
Finished with her soup, Marianne quietly set her spoon aside. Wellingford gone now, a footman quickly removed the dish and replaced it with another. “Now that you’ve returned safe and sound, what do you think the impact of your travels has had on your life?”
Drew looked up from cutting his roasted sirloin. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about that while away but only a little since I’ve returned. Obviously, I’ve turned the family fortunes around. Too bad my father did not live to see it. Though, I think he would have expected me to hand it all over to him so he could plow through that as well.”
“I rarely saw him over the years before his passing.” Marianne hesitated, her fork in midair. “We did not frequent the same social circles and I made it clear that I would not relinquish any of my dowry funds no matter what he did. He was not respectful in any of his dealings with me.” She took the bite, then chewed thoughtfully before adding, “It surprised me that he took no interest in Andrea, though. One would think a man would want to get to know his only grandchild regardless of its sex. I sent him an announcement about her birth and invitations to events we held but I never received any response.”
“I would have been surprised if you had.” Drew sipped some wine and nodded to the footman to replenish his glass. “His focused had narrowed to the money he could obtain. I think the disappointment in their marriage was the main cause of my mother’s death at such a young age. She did not even make it to one score ten.”
A thoughtful silence fell over the table as they continued the meal.
Eventually, Drew broke from his reverie. “Enough of such depressing thoughts. Let’s discuss our plans for visiting the crofters. In the morning, I’ll check with the ostler to see what horses we have for riding. I’ll also have him make sure there is a sidesaddle in good repair.”
“Drew, you need to know—” Marianne blotted her napkin to her lips.
“We can chart out which farms we want to go to and make a list of the questions we shall ask them.”
“Drew, I can’t—” Marianne interrupted again.
“Once we see what’s going on, we can meet with our bailiff—”
“Drew, please listen to me.”
Realizing his wife sought his attention, he laid down his fork and knife. “What is it, Marianne? What’s the matter?”
Looking down at her plate, she composed herself before quietly saying, “I can’t ride, my lord.”
“What? You can’t ride? You can’t ride what?”
“A horse, Drew. I’ve never learned to ride a horse. I’ve only ridden in carriages. My parents didn’t ride and didn’t see the need for me to learn. I can’t ride and even if I wanted to, I don’t have the proper attire.”
Drew sat back in his chair as he folded his napkin beside his plate. “How could you not know how to ride, Marianne?”
“My father’s a merchant and deemed it unnecessary. There were no riding parties which I would need to attend. No hunts. None of the things my area of Society would organize which would require a lady to ride. We had enough horses for our carriage but none more than that. No one in the family, not even my brother until of late, ever rode a horse. I’m not sure my father ever learned, either.”
Drew nonchalantly replaced his napkin in his lap. “Tell me, Marianne, are you afraid of horses?”
“Not that I know of. I’ve never been so close to them to find out. I’ve never been scared by one. Never fallen off one. Never been nipped by one. So, I guess I have no reason to be afraid.” She took a sip of her wine. “I might be intimidated. They’re so much larger than I am. But I imagine once one learns the basics of dealing with them, there should be no challenge.”
Drew nodded. “Well then, first we’ll need to get you some proper clothes.” He shook the bell next to his plate. Wellingford appeared instantaneously. “Wellingford, I want you to send for the village seamstress immediately. Have her here first thing in the morning with current fashion books appropriate for ladies’ riding attire. Tell her she should bring sample fabrics that would be flattering to someone of her ladyship’s size and coloring. I’m sure you can describe that sufficiently. Thank you.”
“Yes, my lord.” The butler turned to go.
“Wellingford, one more thing. Ask her to also bring appropriate patterns and fabrics for a little girl.” As the butler nodded in acknowledgement and left the room, Drew turned back to Marianne. “We might as well get Andrea attired as well. I’ll look into getting her another small pony since we left hers in London. I’m sure she will love that.”
“Drew, she’s so young. Are you expecting her to ride over the countryside without assistance? This isn’t our garden at the town house. Do you think she will be safe?”
“Of course she will. I’ll be with her every step of the way. I’m not about to toss her on a horse and let her fend for herself. I’ll hold on to her as I did in town until she builds enough strength and confidence. Even then, she’ll only be riding here around the manor.”
Wellingford entered once again, this time with the dessert course, and placed a bowl of berries covered in clotted crème before each of them.
“Let’s enjoy dessert and then retire to discuss our quest.” Drew brought a spoon filled with fruit and crème to his mouth.