Page 31 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)

Although Lewis had wanted the exact same arrangement, his father’s response had made him understand that this was not a reasonable request. And so, to his ears, Jilly now sounded unreasonable.

“Is that what they did at Trenton Grange?” he asked.

“No, but…”

“And did Mr. Trenton’s tenants expect that from him?”

Jilly’s hands went to her hips. “Mr. Trenton is notoriously close-fisted. I did not think you wished to be compared to him. Besides, I had no say in the running of that estate. At Oakwoods, I hoped I might speak my mind.”

Lewis lifted his palms and shook them at her. “Where should we house them? All the cottages are filled to capacity. I suppose you would prefer that they stayed with us while their roof is repaired!”

“I should not mind that at all,” Jillian retorted. “We have room enough.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Why not? Because that is not how things are done?”

“Yes! No! Argh! Why do you insist on making things difficult?! There is much we can do to run the estate fairly and treat those who depend on us with empathy. But you cannot break every single rule that you don’t like. They are there for a reason.”

Jillian’s lips grew tight. “You said you liked that I did not follow rules blindly.”

“But you are breaking them blindly, too! The staff have already been complaining that you make them uncomfortable. You linger in the kitchen, converse with them while they’re trying to work, even offering to help!

You may want to treat them like friends, but they are not ready to receive such friendship.

You cannot be their peer as you were with the servants at Trenton Grange.

Here you are wife to the heir of Oakwoods.

You must learn to engage within those parameters. ”

Jillian’s arms fell to her sides, defeated. “So, I am to read and embroider and learn the piano,” she said numbly.

A pang of pity shot through Lewis’s heart. He softened his tone and took his wife’s hand. “You could take the carriage and your new lady’s maid and visit Ellena. You have not seen her since the wedding. She will no doubt be keen to hear all about it.”

Jilly shook her head, her eyes to the floor. “I cannot visit her every day. And I have no other friends in Munro.”

“What about Pen? You two enjoy each other’s company. You could visit a museum together.” He tapped her playfully on the arm. “It would be your turn to be the chaperone.”

“We have done,” Jillian replied. “But even Munro does not have an endless supply of curiosities that interest me. And Penelope is often out riding. I cannot tag along, as I have no skill on a horse. Besides, I think she prefers her own company. So you see, I must have something meaningful with which to occupy myself.”

“Come spring, I shall value your advice on how to beautify the gardens,” suggested Lewis, quite proud that he had thought of this. “And we shall make friends in time. Munro is not completely devoid of decent folk. Just be patient. It will work itself out.”

Jillian had perked up at the mention of the garden, her eyes brightening, her body leaning toward him. “And I could join you when you meet with the steward or the groundskeeper,” she said eagerly. “I have lots of ideas that they might not have considered.”

“And you shall share them with me,” countered Lewis. “But you cannot attend the meetings, dearest. That is not seemly.”

At once, Jilly’s sparkle vanished. “What is unseemly about it? Why must I be kept hidden like some decoration on the mantelpiece? I want to be doing things!”

Lewis had come to the end of his tether. His wife, it seemed, was wholly unable to see reason. As yet, she had shown no willingness to understand her new position or adjust to its expectations. There was no compromise, only frustration.

“Jillian,” he said firmly, his patience at an end. “You are not married to a farmer. If that was what you wanted, you have chosen poorly indeed.”

“It seems I have.”

The air twanged between them.

Jillian turned back to the innocent hibiscus. Picking up the pruning shears, she began to snip away at the branchlings that were growing at cross-purposes to the rest of the shrub.

In his mind, Lewis knew her words had been spoken in a sulky fit of pique. But in his heart, they had cut deep.

How had it come to this? Lewis was at a loss. His joyful expectation was now thoroughly quashed, and Jillian was making it clear she was no longer participating in any reconciliatory efforts.

So be it. He would not beg.

He took a step away from his wife, turned on his heel, and strode from the greenhouse into the chilly air.

By now, the mist was thinning and he could see the hedge that blocked the view of the lake.

He remembered the day they had arrived at the cottage and spent a passionate hour behind those shrubs.

Not long ago, they had been not only of one body, but of one mind.

Today, that connection had buckled under the weight of their different upbringings.

If they were not careful, it would plummet into the depths of anger and bitterness.

They must find a way to strengthen the bond between them.

But if Jillian would not meet him halfway, he could not manage it all on his own.

Outdoors, the day was warming, the sky clearing. But in Lewis’s heart, the cold and dark remained. Only Jilly could bring back the light.

But Jilly was silent.