Read Online An Undomesticated Wife by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online

That will ease your discomfort.”
    He nodded. When he sat, putting his head on her lap, he listened to the soft sound of her voice while he enjoyed the light brush of her fingers on him. He appreciated her sympathy, but nothing would ease his discomfort now, for he could not erase the image of Regina from his head.
    Having a wife, he had known, was a problem. But only now was he beginning to understand exactly how big a problem.
    Regina found herself the focus of much curiosity as the guests arrived at the house on Berkeley Square. Standing between the duke and his son at the top of the stairs by the ballroom in the glow of the gold and crystal chandelier, she kept her smile in place with practiced ease. Not for the first time was she grateful to her father for the training he had given her. Otherwise she was unsure if she could have handled the pointed questions aimed at both her and her husband.
    She knew that although she was wearing her best gown of white jaconet muslin, she still appeared hopelessly out of style. The bodice was not as high as fashion apparently dictated, and the simple hem was too long and did not have as much as a single ruffle. Only her hair, which was curled around her face, and the lacy fan that was hooked around her wrist with a purple ribbon seemed to be à la mode .
    â€œThank you for asking about Papa, Lady Auburn,” Regina said to a decidedly plump matron who was trying to make her feel more comfortable by sharing reminiscences about Papa. “He has spoken of you and your family with affection as well. He often told me of his youthful visits to your family’s country seat.”
    â€œWill he be returning to England soon?”
    â€œPapa waits upon the Regent’s favor, madam. I know he would enjoy a visit back to our homeland.”
    Lady Auburn turned to talk to Lord Daniston, and Regina took a deep breath before releasing it slowly. Small talk and prattle were other skills she had never mastered, and she was aware of her husband listening to every word she said.
    She tried not to think where Lord Daniston had spent his afternoon. When he had come to her bedchamber door to escort her to the ballroom where they would greet the guests of the soirée, he had acted as if nothing was amiss. She could find no fault with the excellent cut of his black coat or gray breeches, but she wished he would be honest with her. Mayhap if he told her the truth about keeping a mistress, she would find the situation easier to accept.
    The past two days had been among the worst in her life. Not only had her husband been avoiding her, but she was bored. Ennui was something she never had had time for in Algiers. There she had ridden out daily with Kamil or her father to talk with the Dey’s viziers. Now she was imprisoned in this house as surely as if she was one of the women in the seraglio.
    When Lord Daniston cleared his throat and offered his arm, she put her hand on it. He led her past the ballroom toward the smaller room where their guests would be enjoying wine and conversation. The guests’ voices burst from the room and swirled in a low rumble up to the high ceiling of the hallway.
    â€œYou must speak with Grandmother about getting you some new clothes,” he said quietly.
    â€œIt was not my intention to put you to the blush with my lack of a proper wardrobe.”
    â€œOr in any other way?”
    At his grim tone, she could not keep from smiling. “My lord, I know the importance of presenting a proper facade.”
    Before he could answer, the dowager duchess bustled up, her cane playing a tattoo on the marble floor. Her gown was a bright green that matched the ribbons tied to her cane. The color might have appeared ludicrous on another woman, but she wore it with equal quantities of dignity and delight. “Why are you two lagging? Marcus, you know that Mrs. Fielding is anxious to speak with you this evening.”
    â€œMrs. Fielding?” He shook his