Page 29 of The Heart’s Choice (Cotton Cops Mysteries #1)
Chapter 28
Planning A Future
N either Bea nor Roger shared the late baron’s distrust of banks. They took the money to the Westminster Bank at the first opportunity. Despite her father’s insistence the account be in his daughter’s name, the manager refused to honor his wishes. Evidently, the bank’s major shareholders believed a woman couldn’t be trusted to properly manage such a large amount of money. “Let me guess,” she remarked sarcastically to the manager. “Your shareholders are all men.”
Her father suggested the account be in her fiancé’s name, but Roger protested.
“I see no reason why it shouldn’t be in your name,” Bea told him. “What difference will it make once we’re married?”
So it was agreed, and they subsequently had no trouble making withdrawals when the need arose.
Their first purchase consisted of several hundredweight of coal which they distributed to the homes of Roger’s unemployed workers.
New clogs came next, then they hired artisans to teach classes in carpentry, shoemaking, and tailoring. Bea enjoyed shopping for the materials needed for the tailoring classes, but left the purchase of hardware and leather to Roger.
Relieved to have the matter of Pickering’s murder solved, Miles Smethurst organized free brass band concerts, and Bea’s father offered to give public readings of the Pickwick Papers.
Unemployed workers at other mills soon demanded similar relief programs from their masters. Hampson and his ilk were eventually shamed into loosening their purse strings.
“We make a good team,” Bea told Roger on one of the rare occasions when they found themselves alone. “I appreciate your including me in all the decisions.”
“I should be thanking you,” he replied, gathering her into his embrace. “You’re the one with all the good suggestions.”
“I was always afraid that, were I to marry, my husband would dismiss my opinions.”
“You forget I was raised by Lucinda Sandiford.”
Roger meant the comment to be humorous, but mention of his mother saddened Bea. “Do you think your mother will ever accept me?”
* * *
Bea’s question took Roger aback. His fiancée should be busy preparing for her wedding. Instead, she spent most of her time working for the welfare of others. However, she obviously didn’t feel comfortable with Lucinda. “She’ll come round,” he assured her. “She probably won’t admit it, but I think she’s impressed with your suggestions for relief opportunities. I know she’s relieved she can continue to live in Sandiford Manor, and she’s aware that’s thanks to you and your father.”
“That brings up another topic,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
“I suspect you’re referring to where we’ll live after we marry,” he replied, having given the matter a lot of thought.
She nodded shyly. “A bride is expected to leave her family and live with her new husband, but I worry about Papa, all alone in that isolated house, except for Glenda.”
He had to tread carefully. “I have the same concern about my mother, though our home isn’t as isolated as the Grange.”
“Nor as dilapidated,” she conceded.
“I must admit I’ve become accustomed to the comforts of Sandiford Manor.”
“You’d be too far from the mill out on the moor.”
“Half an hour at the most in my brougham. That’s not much time and the horses would benefit from the daily drive.”
“It would be fun to work on renovating the Grange together.”
“I agree,” he said, rather surprised he felt comfortable with the prospect.
* * *
Bea was secretly thrilled with the prospect of Roger moving into the Grange. She hadn’t relished the notion of living in a house ruled by Lucinda Sandiford. She’d already persuaded her father to move out of the master bedroom, and purchased new draperies for the antique four-poster from Whitaker’s. She could scarcely wait to share the big bed with Roger and enjoy sensual delights cocooned by the red velvet hangings.
She’d only to remember his clever touch on her most intimate place to become aroused. He’d whispered his intention of tasting her there— deliciously wicked didn’t begin to describe the intimacies he promised.
Glenda had taken it upon herself to prepare Bea for her wedding night, but her dire warnings bore no relation to the ecstasy she’d already shared with Roger. Of course, she divulged none of that to the maid, who had never been married in any case.
Bea had spent her life in a rural community surrounded by sheep farms, and was no stranger to the mating habits of animals. It had never occurred to her that people carried on in more or less the same fashion, according to Glenda. Men apparently had appendages they inserted into their female partners. Bea found the idea intriguing and not a little scary. The knowledge prompted a secret longing to see Roger’s male part for herself.
The provision of a wedding gown was taken out of her hands by, of all people, Lucinda Sandiford. Her future mother-in-law insisted on taking charge of hiring seamstresses and choosing fabric. The fittings took place at Sandiford Manor, and Lucinda was present at every session, offering opinions which Bea sensibly agreed with. She deemed it preferable not to mention the possibility Roger might move out to the Grange. Let him inform his unpredictable mother.
* * *
Roger had never been ruled by his baser instincts. Now, he was in a constant state of arousal whenever he was with Beatrice. Even if they were apart, thinking of her had his cock at full salute. Wicked thoughts ran riot in his imagination when he learned she’d charged red velvet bed hangings to his account at Whitaker’s.
Beatrice’s apparent desire to create an enticingly sensual bedroom confirmed his belief a passionate woman lurked beneath her conservative demeanor. Her response to his intimate touching proved it. At first, he’d been hesitant to whisper of future sexual delights, but she seemed as anxious as he to experience the joys to be found in the marriage bed.
He considered himself a lucky man. Hampson and many of the other mill masters boasted openly of their mistresses. Roger had a feeling Beatrice would more than satisfy his husbandly needs.