Page 38 of His Bluestocking Bride

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After dinner, Marcus and his host remained at the table while the ladies retired to the parlor.

“We won’t linger too long,” Banner promised, leaning back and crossing his arms. “But I think the ladies might appreciate a few moments alone.”

“I agree. In all honesty, your invitation came as a relief. Ellen is not comfortable in the neighborhood yet. I think a few of the matrons have intimidated her.” Marcus knew he could trust Peter Banner to keep his confidences. The two had known each other many years and were of a similar temperament.

“Spiteful old cats.” Banner rolled his eyes heavenward. “You have thwarted all their schemes for you, marrying a gentle person like her, and they will take out their ire on your wife.”

“I am not certain it is as bad as all that.” Marcus took a sip of the amber liquid in his glass. “But there have been very few invitations. Not that we have a great deal of time before we must go to London. But it would be good for Ellen to make friends.”

Banner looked askance at him, his brow furrowed deeply. “I am afraid you’re wrong, Calvert. My wife has heard the gossip and it isn’t kind. Your wife is seen as an interloper. A nobody who has inexplicably risen in society. You know as well as I, if it is one thing people full of pomp and self-importance hate, it is a newcomer to the game.”

Marcus stilled and he slowly shook his head. “She is the daughter of a gentleman. Her education cannot be discounted. Ellen has grace and dignity, perfect manners. How could anyone perceive her as not belonging?”

“My dear fellow.” Banner sat forward, forearms on the table, hands clasped as he spoke with earnestness. “Mrs. Calvert may be all you say, but there is no one who knows it. She has never been seen in illustrious company before. No one in this neighborhood knows her. Until she has proven herself equal in some manner, she will have a hard time of it.”

“I should expect that as my wife she should receive the same courtesies shown to me. She bears my name. My family’s name.” He truly did not foresee this as a problem. Though he knew Ellen would require many introductions into the right circles, how could people not recognize immediately the quality of her person?

“On the surface a woman may be given all the polite treatment her husband’s name brings, but there is always another, deeper layer of the game. Bringing her here, as your bride, and introducing her about to the women who wished to have you for themselves or for their daughters, could not go well.” Banner picked up his glass at last, giving the liquid a brief glance before putting the glass down again. “They are jealous they did not claim you and they are offended that someone outside their circle of importance did.”

Marcus scoffed and pushed his glass away, no longer in the mood to indulge himself. “I have never encountered such problems before.”

“That is not entirely true, Calvert. You have told me many times how your connection to your family has made your life difficult.”

“Because people sought connection to my family. Not to distance themselves from me.” Marcus groaned and pressed a hand over his eyes. “Ellen has not said a word about any of this. Do you think she is aware of the hostility towards her?”

“Undoubtedly. Louisa is certain your wife has been given a few minor tongue-lashings already.” The look Banner gave him was full of sympathy. “As much as she may fit the requirements of a gentlewoman in society, she is new to all of this. As a married woman, she must navigate on her own.”

“No. She has me.” Marcus pushed himself away from the table and stood, walking a path down the dining room, ten steps one way and then ten steps back. “How can I help her?”

“You might begin small.” Banner’s suggestion was accompanied by a bemused look. “Praise her in company the way you praised her here, tonight. That compliment you paid her made Mrs. Calvert bold.”

Marcus slowed in his pacing and thought, frowning at the carpet, of all the times he offered his wife compliments. She usually dismissed his words as flattery or flirting, so he did not often say those things lest she continue to count them cheaply. That did not stop him from admiring her intelligence or her loveliness. But that silent admiration at home meant he said little of her before others.

“Ellen has always kept to herself. She has never been bold. Except with me. In private. She says the most interesting things.”

“Is she shy?”

“Possibly there is more to it than that.” Marcus took in a breath and released it slowly. "I don’t know."

Banner stood and pushed his chair in. “I think we best rejoin the ladies. And I think you ought to have a conversation with your wife on these matters.”

Marcus inwardly agreed.

Chapter Seventeen

Tucked up in her favorite chair by the library fire, Ellen turned the page in an interesting volume on the subject of astronomy. The discoveries being made about the stars and nearby planets were astonishing. Though her grasp of mathematics was above what most considered proper for a woman, she still found a great deal of the book was beyond her reach in understanding. She determined to make a further study of the subject.

Ellen reached for her commonplace book, to write down the names of other authors the book suggested be read, when her husband came into the library. Even now, after weeks of marriage, Ellen’s heart picked up its speed the moment he stepped through a door. Tonight, he looked to be deep in thought, a line appearing between his brows. He walked straight into the room and towards his favorite chair, across from hers, and slumped down into it.

“I thought understanding orchards would be a simple matter.” He sighed and reached up to rub his eyes. “Ellen, I cannot thank you enough for Knight’s book. I have been taking a mad number of notes and I’ve sent to London for more written by him. I am thinking of writing the gentleman a letter to see if there is anything else he would suggest I read.” His lips quirked upward at the last and he cast his eyes down to her book. “What is it you study?”

“The stars in the heavens,” she answered cheerily, placing a ribbon in the book to mark her place. “But if you would rather pick up our story about the Irish girl, I will not complain.”

“You never do complain. About anything.” But rather than smile at what she thought would be a praiseworthy trait, his frown reappeared. He placed both hands on the arms of the chair and heaved himself into a more upright position. “Which reminds me of a thing I have wished to discuss with you. Have you the time for a conversation of a serious nature?”

Ellen put the book aside and straightened her spine. “I do. I am always at your disposal, Marcus.”