A Pitiful Remnant by Judith B. Glad Read Free Book Online Page A

notion," Miss Hi-- his wife said. What the
devil is the proper address for one's brand new wife? He could not
continue thinking of her as an attachment to himself. "We will
announce it at table."
    The dining room door opened and Carleton emerged. "My
lord, are you feeling up to joining your guests at breakfast?" His
expression said he rather thought the answer should be yes.
    "I suppose I must." Reaching for his walking stick, he steeled
himself to walk the distance to his chair at the head of the table. At
the other end of the fifty-foot-long dining room.
    "I have taken the liberty of rearranging the seating. You will
find your chair at this end of the table. Lady Guillemot suggested that
you might be more comfortable there."
    He glanced her way, and caught a fleeting expression that
might have been concern. "Thank you both. I confess that the less I
walk, the happier I will be."
    When Carleton announced them, he accomplished the few
steps to his chair without stumbling or wavering. He even found it
possible to stand straight and tall while his wife trod to the foot of
the table and was seated. When Carleton pulled out his chair, he
didn't quite collapse into it.
    Lisanor decided that Carleton was a jewel among butlers. He
had somehow persuaded the dowager to limit the breakfast to five
courses, and had even given her credit for the brilliant notion to
switch the tables' head and foot. With him on her side, perhaps
adjusting to life at Guillemot would be less trying than she had
feared. I wonder if he might give me some hints about how best to
cope with my mother-in-law.
    She had already discovered that the dowager marchioness
was a woman of instant enthusiasms, most of them impractical,
many of them extravagant, a few of them actually sensible. She also
seemed unaware that she should relinquish her duties and
responsibilities to her successor. A problem for another day. First I
must protect his lordship--my husband--from these
gibble-gabblers.
    Lisanor had been her grandfather's hostess ever since she'd
put her hair up. She was adept at managing dinner guests who
wanted to linger. Today she did so with a vengeance, and with
Carleton's able assistance. Within an hour, the sweet had been
served and it was time. She rose, and when conversation faltered,
she said, "I must ask you to allow a departure from custom. As you
know, my husband recently returned from the wars in Spain. The
journey was onerous and exhausting. For this reason I beg you to
excuse us from further festivities."
    A moment's surprised silence was broken by Lord
Guillemot's voice, a voice well suited to be heard above the sounds of
battles, she decided. "And I must ask you to allow us a
honeymoon. We have not seen each other for such a long time, and
we have more than the usual need to renew our acquaintance. Please
respect our wishes and do not visit nor invite us to visit you for a
month."
    This bald request triggered a wave of babbling, but Lisanor
ignored it. She said, "Thank you all for witnessing our nuptials. May
your journeys to your chosen destinations be uneventful and
comfortable."
    She turned and slipped out through the servant's door
behind her chair, confident that Carleton would see to getting her
husband to his chambers.
    Their chambers. Mrs. Smith had said that her
possessions would be moved to the master suite today. Henceforth
her bedchamber would be there.
    A chilling sensation coiled in her all but empty stomach. In
only a few hours it would be night.
    Her wedding night.

Chapter Six
    "This is the sitting room, my lady. The bedchamber is
through that door. Just beyond it is a bathing chamber." Mrs. Smith
sniffed, her disapproval evident. "His late lordship had a bathing
fixture installed there."
    From the housekeeper's tone, the fixture was either
dreadfully decadent or just plain sinful. Lisanor was tempted to
request a viewing, but Mrs. Smith was opening another door in the
wall to the left of the bedchamber's entrance.
    "This is your