Read Online Love in the Time of Scandal by Caroline Linden - Free Book Online
Authors: Caroline Linden
Ads: Link
another party, irate at himself. Instead of taking swift action to secure the bride he’d chosen, he was still stewing over Penelope Weston’s last words to him. A man should be consumed with passion for his wife! In what society? he quietly fumed. Certainly not this one. He watched Lord and Lady Rotherham enter the drawing room and immediately part ways, the viscount heading for the card room and his wife joining the Earl of Wilbur, who was widely known to be her lover. Both Rotherhams would enjoy their evening, even though they likely wouldn’t see each other again before morning. That was normal marriage, not some dramatic passion Penelope had read about in women’s novels.
Not that he intended to be like Rotherham. Benedict wanted a wife he could respect and like, and he didn’t want to be a cuckold. That was why Frances was perfect for him. There was enough affection between them to rule out troublesome complications like lovers and mistresses, but not enough to cause strife within their marriage. Passion was far from vital. It was all well and good for Penelope to talk of it with approval, she of the high spirits and exuberant temperament and daring sense of adventure; of course she would want passionate encounters and dramatic declarations. She would be the sort of wife who drove a man wild, who made love in carriages and on picnic blankets and on the dining room table and—
He reined in his thoughts. It didn’t matter to him where Penelope would make love to her husband, who was likely to be a broken, if sated, man after a few years with her. That was none of his concern. Benedict forced himself to survey the room again. This time he saw Miss Lockwood, so he headed toward her.
She was as pleased as ever to see him, and after a few minutes’ conversation he led her out on his arm. Their conversation was limited during the country dance, but when it was over and he asked if she would take a turn with him in the quieter corridor outside the drawing room, she eagerly agreed.
“Thank you for walking out with me,” he said as they strolled, her hand nestled in the crook of his arm.
The smile she flashed him was different than usual—more flirtatious, even coy. “I’m sure you had good reason for asking me.”
“I did,” he agreed. It was time to cross the Rubicon. “A very special one.”
Miss Lockwood seemed to lean a little closer on his arm. “Perhaps we should find a quieter place?”
“Very well,” he said after a startled pause. It wasn’t like her to suggest that; usually she was very conscious of propriety and decorum. But then he had spoken to her father already, so perhaps her parents had given her permission to bend those rules. After all, he meant to propose, and although a quiet alcove would suffice, more privacy was always welcome. At the turn of the hall he tried a doorknob and showed her into a small music room, bathed in silvery light by the full moon hanging low over the neighboring rooftops. He left the door open, but she reached behind her and nudged it almost closed.
He gave her a curious glance, but she just tipped her head to one side and waited, beaming back at him. Benedict shook off his hesitation; if she meant to refuse him, she wouldn’t have closeted them. It was a good sign. He reached for her hand. “Miss Lockwood, it’s been a very great pleasure becoming acquainted with you.”
“I have also enjoyed your company, my lord.”
“We get on well together, don’t we?” He eased a step nearer. “And share so many interests.”
She leaned toward him almost playfully. “Are you mad for me?”
“I beg your pardon?” Benedict frowned in bemusement. “I am deeply fond of you and expect we will only grow closer as time goes on. I believe we would be happy together, and I very much hope you agree.”
“But now,” she said, a little insistently. “At this moment, are you madly in love with me? Would you fight a duel over me? Would you die for me?”
“Die
Not that he intended to be like Rotherham. Benedict wanted a wife he could respect and like, and he didn’t want to be a cuckold. That was why Frances was perfect for him. There was enough affection between them to rule out troublesome complications like lovers and mistresses, but not enough to cause strife within their marriage. Passion was far from vital. It was all well and good for Penelope to talk of it with approval, she of the high spirits and exuberant temperament and daring sense of adventure; of course she would want passionate encounters and dramatic declarations. She would be the sort of wife who drove a man wild, who made love in carriages and on picnic blankets and on the dining room table and—
He reined in his thoughts. It didn’t matter to him where Penelope would make love to her husband, who was likely to be a broken, if sated, man after a few years with her. That was none of his concern. Benedict forced himself to survey the room again. This time he saw Miss Lockwood, so he headed toward her.
She was as pleased as ever to see him, and after a few minutes’ conversation he led her out on his arm. Their conversation was limited during the country dance, but when it was over and he asked if she would take a turn with him in the quieter corridor outside the drawing room, she eagerly agreed.
“Thank you for walking out with me,” he said as they strolled, her hand nestled in the crook of his arm.
The smile she flashed him was different than usual—more flirtatious, even coy. “I’m sure you had good reason for asking me.”
“I did,” he agreed. It was time to cross the Rubicon. “A very special one.”
Miss Lockwood seemed to lean a little closer on his arm. “Perhaps we should find a quieter place?”
“Very well,” he said after a startled pause. It wasn’t like her to suggest that; usually she was very conscious of propriety and decorum. But then he had spoken to her father already, so perhaps her parents had given her permission to bend those rules. After all, he meant to propose, and although a quiet alcove would suffice, more privacy was always welcome. At the turn of the hall he tried a doorknob and showed her into a small music room, bathed in silvery light by the full moon hanging low over the neighboring rooftops. He left the door open, but she reached behind her and nudged it almost closed.
He gave her a curious glance, but she just tipped her head to one side and waited, beaming back at him. Benedict shook off his hesitation; if she meant to refuse him, she wouldn’t have closeted them. It was a good sign. He reached for her hand. “Miss Lockwood, it’s been a very great pleasure becoming acquainted with you.”
“I have also enjoyed your company, my lord.”
“We get on well together, don’t we?” He eased a step nearer. “And share so many interests.”
She leaned toward him almost playfully. “Are you mad for me?”
“I beg your pardon?” Benedict frowned in bemusement. “I am deeply fond of you and expect we will only grow closer as time goes on. I believe we would be happy together, and I very much hope you agree.”
“But now,” she said, a little insistently. “At this moment, are you madly in love with me? Would you fight a duel over me? Would you die for me?”
“Die
Similar Books
