Page 54 of The Cornish Bride

They waited in an uncomfortable silence until Mrs. Higgins returned with a tray of tea which she set on the low table near the chaise longue. “Would you like me to pour for you, Ma’am?”

Ysella jumped. She was “ma’am” now, of course. “No. No, thank you. I will do it myself.” No need to let Mrs. Higgins think she could do nothing for herself. Sam had already explained that apart from the odd-job boy who did the gardening, polished his boots and brought in the wood, his only servant was the housekeeper.

Mrs. Higgins departed, taking her air of frosty disapproval with her, and Ysella poured tea for Sam and herself. She held Sam’s out to him.

He took it, and sat down on one of the upholstered chairs. “Thank you.”

Ysella bit her lip. This was worse than awful. How could two people who up until just over a week ago had been the best of friends now have nothing to say to one another? “I take it that you don’t often use this room,” she tried. As an icebreaker, it lacked a lot.

Sam nodded. “I’m told my mother used it, but of course I don’t remember as she died shortly after I was born.”

Ysella nodded. The room did have an air of having been trapped in time. Were the ornaments on the mantel his mother’s? Had she chosen the chaise longue and the other bits of furniture? Ysella had a disturbing sense of having intruded into his mother’s domain, despite her death having been so long ago. “It’s a lovely room.”

Sam nodded. “I used to sneak in here as a child to see if I could capture her spirit.”

This was better. “I do that in Papa’s old study. Kit doesn’t use it, so I thought no one but me ever went there. Until one day I found Mama there, sitting in Papa’s old chair, sniffing his box of cheroots.”

“I think we none of us want to abandon the past.”

Ysella sipped her tea. It was a good China blend. “That’s true.” What to say now to keep this stilted conversation going?

Sam spoke into the awkward silence. “Your mother has sent Martha down to wait upon you, so we’ll have two female servants in the house.” He chuckled. “I think that might account for Mrs. Higgins’ long face. She won’t at all like having another woman about the place.”

“Does that mean me, too?”

He pulled a wry expression by downturning his mouth. “I fear it might. She’s been used to a bachelor establishment for a long time now. But you must be firm with her and take no nonsense. She may have begun as my housekeeper—well, as my father’s housekeeper—but she is yours now, and she must listen to you. You are the lady of this house now.”

Ysella wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid I have to admit that I know very little about housekeeping. I fear Mama intended me not to have to concern myself with anything other than choosing what to order for dinner.”

Sam smiled, the smile reaching his eyes and making them very tender. Ysella’s susceptible heart, in need of succor, did a treacherous leap. Was she bad for wanting him to put his arms round her and hold her close? To make her feel safe and wanted? Because that was all she wanted right now. Nothing more.

He set his empty cup down. “In that case, do not concern yourself with the daily running of the house above telling Mrs. Higgins what you would like to eat. You may spend your days as you wish, Ysella, and you will not find me asking you to do otherwise.”

“That sounds perfect. What I would like to do, then, is to ride out every day. I will be able to do that, won’t I? Lochinvar is still in the Abbey stables, so I can walk up there and ride him if I want to?”

Sam’s smile widened as though she’d said something pleasing. “Nonsense. I’ll send James down with him and another horse every morning when I go up to start work in my office. I’m sure Kit won’t object. James can accompany you on your rides.”

Ysella sucked in her lips, pressing them together. Wouldn’t it be nicer if her husband wanted to ride out with her of a morning? Much better than taking one of the grooms, even if it was James who’d shared her and Morvoren’s adventurous dash into Cornwall a year ago. She’d have to work on that.