Read Online Just Wicked Enough by Lorraine Heath - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lorraine Heath
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would have a faithful husband, by God, if nothing else.
He nodded toward the butler, then the footman. “You’re both dismissed to see to your other duties.”
Both men bowed and left without saying a word.
“I thought it was acceptable to speak in front of servants,” Kate said.
“I’m not accustomed to doing so when the matters are of a personal nature.”
“So last night—”
“I paid a visit to the Duke and Duchess of Hawkhurst.”
“It was hardly an appropriate hour for calling.”
“Hawkhurst’s friendship is not governed by the hour hand on a clock. I sought his counsel in an attempt to understand your demands. Ask your former chaperone if you doubt I spoke with him.”
“I don’t doubt you.” She looked back at her eggs, having lost all appetite. It wasn’t like her to be small and petty. Jenny was right. She shouldn’t have agreed to this marriage. It was bringing out the worst in her. She shifted her gaze to the single red rose resting beside her plate. It had been there when she’d arrived. “Is the rose from you?”
“The duchess suggested I give you a flower as a way to earn your affection, which I suppose makes the gesture meaningless.”
“Not entirely, no.” She couldn’t fault him with trying and she respected that he was a man who wouldn’t take credit that belonged to another. Yet based upon his reputation, his exceptional good looks, and the prestige of his title, she was somewhat surprised that he didn’t have the art of wooing women down to an art. Why did he find her demands so baffling that he’d need to seek counsel?
She glanced up, surprised by the tautness of his features. Did he ever laugh or smile? Strangely she had no memory of him ever doing either in her presence. Surely she’d not married a glum and broody sort. “If I may be so bold, I’m not certain it’s a wise course to seek advice from a man who sought to gain my sister’s hand in marriage by ruining her reputation.”
“Rather you think I should follow Lord Bertram’s preference for boring conversation.”
“He enjoys discussing the arts—literature, painting—”
“Conversation about the arts is equal to discourse on lovemaking. No words can do either justice. I find both must be experienced to be fully appreciated.”
Grateful he’d dismissed the servants, she felt the heat warm her cheeks. She should have known he’d work what he’d been denied last night into the conversation, although she couldn’t admit to being too scandalized. As a matter of fact, she was rather intrigued by his comment. “Perhaps our experiencing the arts together will lead to us experiencing other things in time.”
“In time…” he fairly growled.
“I don’t mean to be difficult, but I always longed for something more in a marriage than convenience. You’re quite right that I should have voiced my objections to my parents, but as much as you desired money, I desired freedom. For as long as I can remember, every aspect of my life has been my mother’s dictate. What I was to wear, where I was to go, how I was to behave. And almost always I was the good daughter, because not being the good daughter brought even harsher, and more painful, punishments. I cannot give myself to a stranger. I simply can’t. It would be torturous to be intimate with someone for whom I have no affection.” She lifted the rose and sniffed the delicate fragrance. “I think you’ll find I’m not too terribly difficult to please, but I do want to be pleased. Surely when you approached my father and asked for my hand in marriage, your request was spurred by more than simply receiving money. You must have seen the potential for a pleasing relationship between us.”
“I expected you to be more biddable.”
She lifted her gaze to him and smiled. “You vastly underestimated American women if you expected that. I’m asking only for a bit of time and patience, an opportunity to come to know each other.”
“If that
He nodded toward the butler, then the footman. “You’re both dismissed to see to your other duties.”
Both men bowed and left without saying a word.
“I thought it was acceptable to speak in front of servants,” Kate said.
“I’m not accustomed to doing so when the matters are of a personal nature.”
“So last night—”
“I paid a visit to the Duke and Duchess of Hawkhurst.”
“It was hardly an appropriate hour for calling.”
“Hawkhurst’s friendship is not governed by the hour hand on a clock. I sought his counsel in an attempt to understand your demands. Ask your former chaperone if you doubt I spoke with him.”
“I don’t doubt you.” She looked back at her eggs, having lost all appetite. It wasn’t like her to be small and petty. Jenny was right. She shouldn’t have agreed to this marriage. It was bringing out the worst in her. She shifted her gaze to the single red rose resting beside her plate. It had been there when she’d arrived. “Is the rose from you?”
“The duchess suggested I give you a flower as a way to earn your affection, which I suppose makes the gesture meaningless.”
“Not entirely, no.” She couldn’t fault him with trying and she respected that he was a man who wouldn’t take credit that belonged to another. Yet based upon his reputation, his exceptional good looks, and the prestige of his title, she was somewhat surprised that he didn’t have the art of wooing women down to an art. Why did he find her demands so baffling that he’d need to seek counsel?
She glanced up, surprised by the tautness of his features. Did he ever laugh or smile? Strangely she had no memory of him ever doing either in her presence. Surely she’d not married a glum and broody sort. “If I may be so bold, I’m not certain it’s a wise course to seek advice from a man who sought to gain my sister’s hand in marriage by ruining her reputation.”
“Rather you think I should follow Lord Bertram’s preference for boring conversation.”
“He enjoys discussing the arts—literature, painting—”
“Conversation about the arts is equal to discourse on lovemaking. No words can do either justice. I find both must be experienced to be fully appreciated.”
Grateful he’d dismissed the servants, she felt the heat warm her cheeks. She should have known he’d work what he’d been denied last night into the conversation, although she couldn’t admit to being too scandalized. As a matter of fact, she was rather intrigued by his comment. “Perhaps our experiencing the arts together will lead to us experiencing other things in time.”
“In time…” he fairly growled.
“I don’t mean to be difficult, but I always longed for something more in a marriage than convenience. You’re quite right that I should have voiced my objections to my parents, but as much as you desired money, I desired freedom. For as long as I can remember, every aspect of my life has been my mother’s dictate. What I was to wear, where I was to go, how I was to behave. And almost always I was the good daughter, because not being the good daughter brought even harsher, and more painful, punishments. I cannot give myself to a stranger. I simply can’t. It would be torturous to be intimate with someone for whom I have no affection.” She lifted the rose and sniffed the delicate fragrance. “I think you’ll find I’m not too terribly difficult to please, but I do want to be pleased. Surely when you approached my father and asked for my hand in marriage, your request was spurred by more than simply receiving money. You must have seen the potential for a pleasing relationship between us.”
“I expected you to be more biddable.”
She lifted her gaze to him and smiled. “You vastly underestimated American women if you expected that. I’m asking only for a bit of time and patience, an opportunity to come to know each other.”
“If that
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