And that morning he had sat beside her in the coach, the same one in which they traveled now, Bruce on the seat facing them, saying not a word, making no attempt to touch her, or to smile at her, or to offer any sign at all that she was his bride and that they were on their way to be married.

Her bewilderment had grown during those two days to the point at which she did not know what to think. All the charm that he had used in the library when he had asked her to marry him had disappeared without trace. Since that time he had shown no interest in her, had acted indeed as if he were unaware of her existence. Yet he had made no move to explain to her that he had not been serious about his offer or that he regretted it and wanted to withdraw from his commitment. Why had he offered? He must have wanted her when he spoke to her. Was he perhaps merely feeling awkward at being trapped for a few days in a house without a change of clothes and without any of the people he knew? Yet it had been his decision that they marry there in such haste.

Perhaps now that they were on their way to Redlands-his home, about which she knew nothing except the name-he would be different. She waited for him to speak, to turn to her with some warmth. She expected him to begin to tell her about his home and family, about himself. Yet he sat straight on his seat, not touching her, looking out onto the dull world of melting snow and mud. And Anne dared not speak herself. She could think of nothing to say that would be sure to break down his reserve. So she stared out of her window, tense, uncomfortable, feeling the silence grow between them like a tangible thing.

Viscount Merrick and his bride arrived at Red-lands at dusk. They were quite unexpected. The butler, Dodd, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Rush, always ran a strict establishment. No holland covers over the furniture in the best rooms for them. The servants were kept as busy when the master was from home as they were when he was in residence. The house was kept as immaculately clean. But it was a shabby house. The viscount had never made it a principal residence and had never taken any great interest in its decoration or upkeep. The gardens, similarly, were kept neat around the house by a hardworking gardener, but no one had ever taken the initiative to make anything beautiful of the extensive grounds.

When a dilapidated carriage was seen, then, by a groom, to be driving toward the house, and when the master himself was seen to alight and to turn to help a lady to descend, there was considerable excitement and curiosity, but no panic. Dodd pulled at his waistcoat to make sure that it was free of creases, and smoothed back the little hair that remained to him. Mrs. Rush shook out her white apron and inspected it quickly for spots. She ran her hands around the lacy brim of her cap to make sure that it was straight on her head. Both were standing in the hallway, flanked by the marble busts that had been painstakingly collected by the former viscount, when a footman finally opened the door to the travelers. Dodd bowed stiffly from the waist; Mrs. Rush curtsied, her lined face wreathed in a smile of greeting.

"Welcome home, my lord," Dodd said in his most stately fashion.

"Such weather, my lord," Mrs. Rush added. "We must be thankful to the good Lord for bringing you safely here."

Both glanced curiously at Anne.

"May I present my wife, the viscountess?" Merrick said, and watched with unsmiling eyes the quickly concealed amazement of the two elderly and faithful servants. He must become accustomed to such reactions, especially from those who would see her. Fortunately for himself, he did not intend that many people would do so-for the present, at least.

Mrs. Rush jumped into action. "You will be cold and tired, my lady," she said. "Come to the drawing room. There is always a fire in there from early afternoon. I shall have a tray of tea brought up to you at once. You must be longing for one. I shall have your bedchamber made up immediately and some nice hot bricks put between the sheets." She was already bustling up the wide curved staircase ahead of her new mistress, while Merrick lingered in the hall to give some instructions to Dodd and to see that his wife's boxes were removed from the carriage and carried upstairs.

Anne was feeling tired and bewildered. The journey had been a tedious one. They had made only one brief stop for a change of horses. Although she had had tea, she had not been invited to alight from the carriage. The refreshments had been brought out to the carriage for her. The atmosphere had not improved as the day advanced. Her husband had remained silent. She did not believe that they had exchanged ten sentences during the whole journey. It was puzzling and hurtful. She knew that she should have said something, asked him what was the matter. She should have done so before the wedding ceremony, in fact. There was certainly something very strange about his attitude. But she had not done so. She was far too timid. It was very easy in her mind to be positive, to take the initiative. In real life she allowed herself to be swept along by the plans of other people.

Now she found herself in the very uncomfortable position of being in a strange house, of which she supposed she was now mistress, with a strange man who was her husband but whom she knew not at all. And she had the growing suspicion that he did not really welcome her presence. However, as she followed the housekeeper up the stairs and along the hallway to a warm and large drawing room, she felt a measure of comfort. Mrs. Rush was friendly and seemed genuinely concerned for her comfort. She chattered constantly as she walked. Anne smiled with gratitude as she allowed her gray cloak and bonnet to be removed and a chair to be drawn closer to the dancing flames of the fire. It seemed to be years since anyone had fussed over her. Their servants at home had been chosen by Bruce and generally had his own sternness of manner.

"Thank you, Mrs. Rush," she said. "I have never been so glad in my life to see a fire. All I need to complete my happiness is a cup of tea."

The housekeeper smiled back. "I shall have a whole pot sent up right away, my lady," she said, "and a plate of currant cakes that Cook made fresh this afternoon. It was almost as if she knew you were coming."

She bustled from the room and soon had the cook and two chambermaids rushing around to produce the promised refreshments without delay. All the while, she gave it as her opinion that the master had chosen himself a very good sort of a girl for a bride. Not one of your grand ladies that was all frills and curls and never a sensible or a kindly thought in her mind. "Though I was never more surprised in my life," she added. "I always expected that his lordship would marry a beauty. In fact, it has been rumored that he was about to get himself betrothed to a marquess's daughter. I can't think why he has suddenly gone and got himself wed to someone we have never heard of. She has only two trunks, too, and no maid. But a very sweet lady, if my judgment is correct."

No one suggested that perhaps it was not. Mrs. Rush's word and her opinion were law belowstairs at Redlands. Only Dodd would ever have dared to dispute any of her pronouncements, and fortunately for the peace of the house, these two leaders of the household almost invariably agreed on all major topics. Thus it was that Anne Stewart, Viscountess of Merrick, was favorably received by the servants of her new home, at least.

She was unaware of this, however, having felt only the early kindliness of Mrs. Rush. She drank her tea and ate her cakes alone in the drawing room, gazing around her almost timidly, as if she were spying into a place where she had no business to be. Her mind registered the largeness and airiness of the room, which was somewhat spoiled by the shabbiness of wall tapestries that had been bleached by the sunlight of most of their color, of carpets that were worn in the places where they were most trodden and therefore most exposed to view, and of furniture that was heavy and inelegant. Strangely, it was a cosy room, but she felt strongly that it must be a long time since anyone had taken any real pride in the appearance of the house. The fact surprised her. Even in the gathering dusk, she had been able to see as they had approached the house that it was far more magnificent and the grounds far more extensive than even she had pictured them in her imagination.