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lady’s maids. The dowager duchess had also been known to educate some of their maids so they were able to secure positions as governesses.
    The young girl’s eyes grew wide in her freckled face. “Oh, no, my lady. I have no training to be a lady’s maid. My mum will be hiring someone for you.”
    “No. I think not. I would prefer that you fill the position.”
    She frowned. “My lady?”
    Marion smiled at the young girl’s confusion. “That means I would like you to be my lady’s maid.”
    The girl blushed furiously and cupped her cheeks with her palms. “Thank you, my lady. I will try my best.”
    “Good. Now run off and tell your mum that I have my lady’s maid, and then hurry back here so we can unpack.”
    Still quite red in the face, Jane hurried from the room.
    Marion hummed as she began to sort through the items in the trunks the footmen had lugged up to her room. Jane would work nicely as her maid. Marion felt no need for fancy, town hair dressings. Jane seemed a pleasant girl, and that meant more to her than experience.
    She eyed the door adjoining her room to Tristan’s. After minutes of glancing back and forth at it while she draped clothing over the bed, she threw down the gown she held and strode across the room. Very carefully, she released the latch and eased the door open. Tears sprang to her eyes as the essence of her husband wafted over her. The familiar scent of his soap, his cologne, and his body, made her heart thump and her knees weak.
    How she’d missed him! She came to stand beside his bed, gazing at the place where he rested his body. Where she intended to rest her body as well. With his stubbornness, it would probably not be any time soon. But she, too, could be stubborn. He was all she had ever wanted her entire life, and something as minor as blindness was not going to take him from her. She would fight the blindness and fight him. In the end she would prevail.
    She dragged her fingers over his wardrobe and dresser. Smiled at his shaving things and hairbrush lined up perfectly next to the wash basin. He had a wonderful view from his window, a view he would never see. For the first time since she’d received the news from her brother, she wondered what it would be like to suddenly lose her eyesight. She shuddered at the thought of never seeing another sunset or viewing summer flowers in full bloom.
    Most of all, the idea of never gazing on her beloved Tristan’s face again explained some of her husband’s anguish. She drifted closer to the window, her arms wrapped around her waist. More determined than ever, she would convince him their marriage could work.
    “Marion. What are you doing in my room?”
    She whirled around, amazed she hadn’t heard the door open or Tristan enter the room.
    “How did you know—”
    “That you are here? When you lose one of your senses, my dear, I’ve discovered that the others grow to compensate for the loss. I could smell your lovely scent as soon as I opened the door.”
    He moved farther into the room and headed directly toward her, almost as if his eyesight had miraculously returned. “You haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”
    “I’m sorry to intrude, but I was unpacking, and the door linking us drew me, so I—”
    “Decided to breach my privacy?”
    She shook her head. “No. I… Tristan, can’t we at least be friends?”
    “No.” He turned from her and sat on the edge of the bed. “I will not be your friend. I love you too much for that.” He held up his hand as she began to speak. “Let me finish. It is because I love you as much as I do that I must set you free.”
    Marion dropped to her knees and gripped his hands. “No, please. I don’t want to be set free. Can’t you understand?”
    He reached out as if to smooth her hair, then drew his hand back. “You must reconcile yourself to my decision. I will not change my mind.”
    She laid her forehead on his knee. “And I will not change mine, Tristan.