Page 111 of The Language of Love

“She is the dowager countess.”

“Ah, so you’ve known her all your life.”

“Something like that.”

Annis wasn’t sure what to say about that. Of the four children who’d grown up together, three would soon live in the same house. And her new husband did not look especially pleased about that.

***

The journey to Stoke would take them six days.

“We could do it far quicker,” Henry had replied when Annis asked. “But there is no need to wear ourselves out. Since I’m cheating you out of a wedding trip, I thought I’d put a little effort into making this journey more enjoyable.”

He'd offered to take her on a wedding journey—to anywhere she wished to go—but Annis wanted to see the place that would be her home first.

For his part, Henry was in no hurry to get to Stoke. The more he thought of his prior plans—to make Julia suffer by depriving her of money—the less it appealed to him.

As he’d said to Annis a scant two weeks before, that was all in the past. What was the point in taking out his grievances on a person who now depended on him? Where was the sport in that?

Intellectually, Henry could understand that argument. But emotionally, he was still that sixteen-year-old boy who’d been cast out of Stoke like a piece of rubbish.

He wanted revenge or at least redress—some sort of compensation, although he knew not what. Unfortunately for Julia—and Edmund, to a lesser degree—they were the only ones remaining on whom he could vent his spleen.

***

That night Grace dressed Annis in one of the nightgowns that Henry had selected for her.

She’d been too worried last night to don any of the elegant, sensual garments, fearing that he would storm from their bedchamber upon learning the truth.

“Oh, you look lovely, my lady,” Grace cooed as she brushed out Annis’s hair.

“This is a beautiful gown,” she agreed.

“It’s not just that, my lady—it’s that color. I think nothing suits you better.”

Annis studied her reflection and couldn’t help smiling; it was true that periwinkle blue made her eyes appear larger and almost lavender.

The nightgown itself was the most scandalous scrap of lace. Fortunately, Henry had purchased a far less revealing dressing gown in the same color, so she wasn’t bright red as her maid brushed her hair.

Annis smiled as she thought back on their evening. They’d had a delightful dinner and a game of chess.

“I’ve not played for ages,” she admitted as they set up the board.

“Did you play with your father?” Henry asked.

“Yes, but more recently I played with Miles.”

“Ah.”

Annis had the strangest feeling that Henry no longer liked Miles, even though the two of them had seemed so friendly back when Henry had first moved to London.

Grace set down the brush and Annis nodded at the younger woman. “Thank you, Grace, that will be all for tonight."

The door had barely closed behind Grace when the connecting door to Henry’s room opened.

Annis wondered if she’d ever stop feeling that spark of pleasure that hit her each time she saw him anew; she hoped not.

“Stand up and let me look at you,” he said, his eyes hot as they flickered over her.