The Lady's Disgrace by Callie Hutton Page A

anger than that in front of the housekeeper. But when she got Mr. Joseph Fox alone, she would certainly give him a piece of her mind.
    Tie me to the bed, indeed!

Chapter Five
    The next morning after sleeping away the previous afternoon and evening, restlessness urged Abigail to insist on getting out of bed. The scratches on her face were healing, thanks to the salve Mrs. O’Neill had given her. The physician had pronounced her fit, with no broken bones. He’d given her laudanum to ease the pain in her hip. Despite the soreness in her body, she wanted to explore her new home.
    She vaguely remembered Joseph coming into the room sometime last evening. He’d touched her gently on her cheek, bent to kiss her on the forehead, but then he had taken his leave. She wasn’t sure where he’d slept. Or even if the room she was now in was to be hers permanently.
    A bit bereft at the thought of them sharing separate bedrooms, she chided herself for her self-pity. It had been her idea to postpone the marriage bed for a while. Of course, now that she was sorry she’d done that, her pride kept her from approaching Joseph on the matter.
    After receiving direction from the maid who’d attended her, Abigail made her way down the stairs to the breakfast room. Once more she was impressed with the house. The breakfast room’s walls were papered in yellow and white striped silk. The floor to ceiling windows let in sufficient light, despite the gloomy day.
    Joseph sat at the table, and immediately came to his feet when she entered. “How are you feeling?”
    “A bit sore, truth be told, but I didn’t want to lay about in bed any longer.”
    He touched her cheek lightly where the scratches had already begun to heal. “I would prefer if you stayed abed at least one more day.”
    “Nonsense. I need to work these muscles to keep from becoming stiff.”
    She took the seat alongside him. Breakfast was apparently informally served, with platters of eggs, bacon, and biscuits in the center of the table. There was also a plate of kippers in a cream sauce and a large bowl of fruit.
    “Tea?” Joseph asked
    “Please.” She moved her cup forward so he could pour her tea. “Don’t you drink tea?” Abigail asked noting the darker liquid in his cup.
    “No. I prefer coffee in the morning.”
    Abigail made a face. The few times she’d tried the beverage it had struck her as bitter. She added some eggs and toast to her plate, along with an orange. “You’ve an orangery?”
    Joseph looked up from the newspaper he’d been reading. “Yes. It came with the property when I purchased it.”
    “I must admit I’m a bit surprised at the size of your home.”
    “Our home.” He smiled at her blush.
    “Our home.” She began to peel the orange. “I thought you were in London to raise money for your school?”
    Joseph pushed away his empty plate and drew his coffee cup closer. “I am sure you know my grandfather was the Earl of Hornsforth. His wife—my grandmother—had various properties in her own name. She left me two of them, along with a trust from which I receive the yearly income until I reach the age of five and thirty—or marry—and then it becomes mine in its entirety.”
    “How strange.”
    “Not really. She never approved of me going into the church, even though my father is also a rector. I think she was reconciled to his calling because he was her second son, whereas I am my father’s only child. I think she hoped I would eventually change my mind and use the money to help secure a seat in the House of Commons.”
    “And she assumed having a wife would steer you toward a political career?”
    “So it would seem, but I love my work with my parishioners. I don’t want to go anywhere near Parliament.”
    Apparently Joseph had not only received her dowry to use for his school, but his own funds would be released upon his marriage. The reason for him agreeing to wed became more obvious every day. Even though her own motives were