She said nothing else, although he sensed her frowning in protest. With a tiny sigh, she settled against him, dozing off with her head cradled in the crook of his neck.

Gabriel relaxed into the chair, letting himself enjoy this moment. This moment when he held his wife in his lap in the middle of a vast, ornate, dusty dining room, her skirts overflowing the chair’s confines as she slept in his arms. The taste of her, sugared plums, and cream still lingered in his mouth.

It was perfect.

Mister Kinsey met Gabriel outside his study the next morning and followed him into the room holding a stack of letters.

“Your correspondence, Lord Rosenthorne,” the man said, setting the bundle down on the wide desk.

Gabriel eyed the daunting pile with a sense of dread. “Christ. Is all that for me?”

Mister Kinsey smiled in understanding. “Mostly half is official correspondence regarding responsibilities of the estate. The other will be invitations and social engagements Lady Rosenthorne will likely address. Your father employed a secretary for such things. If you like, I will facilitate the hiring of someone for both you and milady. As well as a valet for milord.”

Gabriel scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’ve managed thus far over the last twenty-eight years to dress myself. I don’t believe I require a valet.”

“Of course, milord.” Mister Kinsey’s head tilted. “Milady’s maid will arrive soon, yes? Mrs. Ellenston has selected a young lady as a temporary substitute.”

“There’s no need.” Gabriel waved away the offer. “I will see to my wife’s demands until her maid arrives.”

Mister Kinsey ducked his head, a flush of embarrassment coloring his face at the thought of a marquess acting as lady’s maid. “Very good, milord.”

“See to the hiring of secretaries, Mister Kinsey,” Gabriel stated as he sifted through the post. It rarely occurred, but at this moment, he was feeling extremely inadequate. This task of being a marquess was proving more difficult than he imagined. The only bright spot so far was that the position delivered the delectable Celia into his grasp. “I’ve no idea what I should do with most of this.”

“I’m happy to assist,” Mister Kinsey offered. “The most important piece of correspondence I spied in this stack is an official post from the secretary of the Prime Minister. I imagine he requires your appearance in his office before taking your seat in the House of Lords. You will need to set up your own offices there.”

Gabriel winced. He’d been dreading this summons, having been warned of its arrival by Sebastian.

What he knew of Parliament was that a small group of wealthy lords held the position of deciding the fate of the common Englishman. Unfair, true, but a reality, nonetheless. And now, he would straddle the two sides of his heritage in a different way. Commoner and nobility attempting to reconcile with each other.

A trip to London was apparently necessary, but the thought of leaving his bride so soon was not a pleasant one. Of course, he could take Celia along with him. Perhaps she would enjoy shopping and seeing to their house in Mayfair before the season began. In the meantime, work could continue here at the country manor without Celia being unduly inconvenienced.