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“Then I’ll do so.” She stepped out into the hall.

“Don’t you want to change first?” he asked her.

Astrid frowned and her face colored. “Is there something wrong with my dress?” she asked.

Conor realized his mistake.Of course she doesn’t have anything fine to wear,he berated himself.Her father is a commoner. What did you expect?“No,” he said quickly. “The dress is fine. Everything’s fine.”

Well, now you just sound like a fool.

So that he wouldn’t have to face her, he turned and led the way down the stairs to the dining room, listening for her footsteps behind him to make sure she hadn’t retreated to her chambers after his gaffe.No wonder she feels uncomfortable here, he thought.Her husband is an idiot.

In honor of the new Lady of the house, the serving staff had lit large candles around the dining room. Conor watched as Astrid stopped to examine one of them, wrapping both her hands around it to feel its circumference. He couldn’t help wondering whether she had ever seen a candle so large before.

“Please,” he said, gesturing to one of the two chairs at the table. “Have a seat.”

She did so, looking very uncertain, as if she thought she might be doing it incorrectly somehow.

DuBois appeared, a platter in each hand. “Lord Middleborough,” he said, placing one dish before Conor and whisking away the cover. It was a meat pie—a simple enough dish, but one of Conor’s favorites. He smiled his thanks at his butler.

DuBois carried the other dish to Astrid. “Lady Middleborough,” he said.

Astrid jumped as DuBois removed the cover from her dish. She looked down at the pie on her plate, then up at DuBois. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Enjoy, My Lady.” DuBois withdrew quietly.

Conor watched her, waiting for a clue as to what she was thinking.

“It’s strange,” she murmured.

“What’s strange?” he asked.

“This. Having servants waiting on me,” she said. “It feels like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong,” Conor said. “You handled that appropriately.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Astrid said. “I don’t think I’m violating societal standards. I just mean…it doesn’t feelright. Why should he be waiting on me, and not me on him?”

“Because you’re the Lady of the Manor,” Conor said, bemused.

“I know that,” Astrid said. “But a week ago, I was just Astrid.” She sighed. “I apologize, My Lord. It must seem as if I’m not grateful for your generosity and hospitality.”

“It doesn’t seem like that,” Conor said. “And…you don’t have to call meMy Lordanymore, either. We’re husband and wife.”

“But you are a lord,” she protested. “Everyone has been calling meMy Lady, even when I tell them it isn’t necessary to do so.”

“That’s different,” Conor said. “It’s different for you and me, because we’re married.”

“It doesn’t feel different,” she said. “It feels as though you’re the Lord of Middleborough Manor, and I’m a solicitor’s daughter who lives in your home.”

“Well,” Conor said. “I would like it if you’d call me by my name.”

She bit her lip and looked down.

“And may I call you Astrid?”

“Whatever you’d like,” she said.

This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. He had meant to make her feel more welcome, more as if she belonged here. Instead it seemed he was making her more uncomfortable than ever.