By the time they finished the tour of his—their—house, he was sure his beloved had filled her pocketbook with ideas and other notes. In fact, he had not been in many of the rooms. Some were still covered in dust-cloths. “Why are so many of the parlors not open?”

“Her ladyship didn’t order them to be,” Rennie said.

“Hmm.” As Eleanor’s lips pressed together, he could feel her dissatisfaction. “That cannot be good for the house. Even if a room is not used very much, it should still be cleaned on a regular basis and ready for use.” She glanced at the housekeeper. “Do you have sufficient staff ?”

Rennie looked away and grimaced. “Not to keep up the whole house, my lady.”

“That will have to change.” Eleanor gave the housekeeper a reassuring smile. “Please decide which positions must be filled and have the list ready the day after tomorrow.”

“Why not tomorrow?” He wanted her here every day. This was her home now.

She waved her hand. “I have a modiste appointment and some other meetings that will take up the morning. Grace’s at home is in the afternoon.” She tilted her head. “Do you not have something you must do?”

He couldn’t think of anything. John shook his head.

“Something you must procure before the wedding?” He could imagine her using the same tone with one of their children.

Worthington was going to visit the rector at St George’s. Her sisters were planning the wedding breakfast. He had to ask Turley to stand up with him. Eleanor had folded her arms across her chest, causing her breasts to plump. Then she raised a brow. Witness, church, ceremony . . . license! “Er, yes. I shall fetch the special license.”

She grinned at him as if he’d won a prize. “I knew you would not forget.” Eleanor tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Let us finish the tour. Rennie, please lead us to the kitchen.”

The housekeeper’s jaw dropped. “Are you sure you want to do that without any warning, my lady?”

What the devil was wrong? Their cook had been with them as long as he could remember. The kitchen was always orderly and spotless. As he knew from the many times he’d been threatened with a spoon for trying to enter it with muddy shoes. Or sneaked down to try to get biscuits straight out of the oven. “Is Beasley not feeling well?”

“Oh no, my lord.” Rennie wrung her hands. “I mean, I don’t know how she’s feeling. Her ladyship said she retired when you came to Town, and we have a new one. Cook that is. She doesn’t like to be bothered.”

“Indeed.” John took a breath and let it out. “Shall we see what we have, my love?”