Free Prelude to Heaven by Laura Lee Guhrke Page B

only reason?”
    “Of course.” He didn't want to admit, even to himself, that he had done it to see her smile. He dropped his hand from her shoulder and turned away. “What other reason could there be?”
    He got no reply to that, and he resumed chopping scallions, a bit nettled by her reaction. He didn't know what he'd expected her to say, but one of her infrequent smiles and a “thank you” would have been nice.
     
    ***
     
    A routine became established those first two mornings, and Tess and her employer continued the pattern during the two weeks that followed. He gave her two cooking lessons each day, teaching her how to prepare meats, how to make sauces and soufflés, and how to properly use herbs and spices. But everything was done in a stiff and uncomfortable fashion, without the camaraderie of that first morning in the kitchen.
    In the afternoons, while Alexandre went off to paint or sketch, Tess spent her time cleaning, or mending, or doing laundry. Occasionally, when she was sweeping the upstairs floors or putting away laundry, her gaze would stray to the locked doors at the end of the corridor, and she would wonder what lay within those rooms, but she did not have much time to dwell on the matter. There were plenty of tasks to occupy her.
    She found herself free to do whatever work she felt like doing. There was no one telling her what to do or how to do it. There was no one to gainsay her if she wished to go for a walk or take a nap. It was freedom, and it should have been glorious. Because Nigel was not there, she should not have felt fear. But she did. She found herself waiting—waiting for Dumond to criticize, to disapprove or demand or lose his temper. She found herself working harder with each day that passed, striving to postpone what seemed inevitable. She wanted to give him nothing to criticize and no reason to hit.
    But her pessimistic expectations came to naught. Dumond never said an insulting word to her. In fact, he hardly spoke to her at all. He never lost his temper because he hardly seemed to notice what she did.
    It's like walking on eggs , she thought as she yanked yet another ragweed plant out of the ground and tossed it onto the pile of weeds by her side.
    The feeling was a familiar one. During her two years of marriage, she'd walked on eggs most of the time, dread building to an almost unbearable level, and now, even though she was in a different house, and it was a different man, she was still waiting.
    She pulled another weed from the ground and gave a grimace as she straightened, pressing a hand to the base of her spine as she surveyed the weed-choked expanse of garden that still remained before her. She'd only pulled a few weeds and already her back was beginning to ache, but she did love being the garden.
    The afternoon sun felt warm on her neck and the pleasant hum of bees surrounded her as she worked. The bright red of a ladybug on the leaf of a weed caught her attention. She pushed the insect gently off the leaf before pulling the weed from the ground. A long-ago voice reminded her, “Ladybugs are good to have around, Tessie.”
    She smiled, remembering old Herbert laying out bedding plants with gnarled hands, showing his five-year-old assistant how to train pole beans, letting her plant the nasturtiums and sweet peas because she could easily hold the large seeds in her fingers.
    The vicarage garden had been one of her childhood joys, one of many. There had been love and laughter in her life then. Even after her mother's death when she was fifteen, even after her father became so very ill, that love had carried her through. He had approved of her marriage. “Aubry will take care of you after I'm gone, Tess. You'll be a countess. You'll never want for anything.”
    She hadn't married Nigel because he was an earl. She had married him because she had loved him. The moment she had first seen him at the parish church in Ainswick, she'd been in love. He'd come to Northumberland to