Read Online Patricia Rice by This Magic Moment - Free Book Online
Authors: This Magic Moment
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She’d never quite seen him in that light before, and if she glanced to where his shirt met his breeches…
Christina concentrated on her food, but the hunger she felt had little to do with the plump pigeon or the beef pie. “Marriage is about money and land and titles and lots of other things when it ought to be about love .”
Harry swigged from his tankard. She was very aware of the heat of him hovering near her shoulder. She was learning marriage was also about intimacy. There didn’t seem to be a modest or retiring bone in Harry’s body—his amazingly athletic body.
“Love is a foolish romanticism dreamed of by women,” he replied. “Men may admire a woman’s looks or respect her intelligence or appreciate her talents, but to expect more is to whistle down the wind.”
“I had a grandmother who was said to do that. They say she created a cyclone once.” Christina poked at the early spring peas. With Malcolms, everything was possible, so Harry’s protests didn’t sway her much.
He finally sat down across from her to dig into his pie. Christina noted that unlike many men, he used his polite manners in private as well as public, but he ate like a starving man. An astonishing quantity of food disappeared in a short time. Her own meal went neglected as she watched him in fascination.
He caught her looking, dabbed his mouth with his napkin, and leaned back in his chair. “I won’t pounce on you. I’ll give you the time I promised if you need it. I just don’t want you to think there’s anything lacking in either of us if the results aren’t the sort you fancy.”
“I used to see affection when you looked at me,” she said quietly.
In Harry’s experience, Christina was many things, but quiet wasn’t one of them. He lifted an inquiring eyebrow.
“Now, all I see is confusion and anger and maybe a touch of despair. Is marrying me so very dreadful?”
Stunned by her insight, Harry shook his head. “Marrying you is…” He didn’t know how to express the perplexity of being torn two ways. “…is what I need right now. I dislike disrupting your life this way, but we both have duties and we might as well be about them.”
She made a moue of distaste and poked at her food some more. Even disheveled from their long ride, she couldn’t be anything less than glorious in his eyes—perhaps because he saw the joy and courage in her and craved it for himself.
“I want love, like my sisters have, not duty.” She stabbed a bit of meat with her fork and shredded it with her knife. “Will you tell me what is bothering you?”
Not likely. He wasn’t in the habit of confiding doubts, much less his deepest nightmares. He waved his fork dismissively. “The usual things. The loss of my family. I never expected to inherit. I know nothing of estate duties. I hate being unprepared.”
She nodded in understanding. “I’m not prepared either, so we’ll learn together. Is your house very large?”
Harry tried not to snort ale out his nose at this ingenuous question. “You’ll see on the morrow. You needn’t worry about the staff. My father and brother lived bachelor lives and the staff serves well without instruction.”
They would both do better if he could find the source of the estate’s financial problems and escape back to London and the lives they knew, but he didn’t know how quickly that could be accomplished.
Watching his bride of a few hours pick at her food, remembering the eagerness of her response to his kiss, his spirits lifted. Her dowry had forced Carthage to slink back into his hole for another six months. Perhaps that’s all it would take once Harry halted the flow of cash into the Abomination. Then he could spend the next few years producing heirs.
He had the feeling Christina would be an imaginative lover.
Auras, indeed! He smiled fondly and shoved back from the table. He’d best leave her to bathe alone or he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep tonight.
“Your bath should be
Christina concentrated on her food, but the hunger she felt had little to do with the plump pigeon or the beef pie. “Marriage is about money and land and titles and lots of other things when it ought to be about love .”
Harry swigged from his tankard. She was very aware of the heat of him hovering near her shoulder. She was learning marriage was also about intimacy. There didn’t seem to be a modest or retiring bone in Harry’s body—his amazingly athletic body.
“Love is a foolish romanticism dreamed of by women,” he replied. “Men may admire a woman’s looks or respect her intelligence or appreciate her talents, but to expect more is to whistle down the wind.”
“I had a grandmother who was said to do that. They say she created a cyclone once.” Christina poked at the early spring peas. With Malcolms, everything was possible, so Harry’s protests didn’t sway her much.
He finally sat down across from her to dig into his pie. Christina noted that unlike many men, he used his polite manners in private as well as public, but he ate like a starving man. An astonishing quantity of food disappeared in a short time. Her own meal went neglected as she watched him in fascination.
He caught her looking, dabbed his mouth with his napkin, and leaned back in his chair. “I won’t pounce on you. I’ll give you the time I promised if you need it. I just don’t want you to think there’s anything lacking in either of us if the results aren’t the sort you fancy.”
“I used to see affection when you looked at me,” she said quietly.
In Harry’s experience, Christina was many things, but quiet wasn’t one of them. He lifted an inquiring eyebrow.
“Now, all I see is confusion and anger and maybe a touch of despair. Is marrying me so very dreadful?”
Stunned by her insight, Harry shook his head. “Marrying you is…” He didn’t know how to express the perplexity of being torn two ways. “…is what I need right now. I dislike disrupting your life this way, but we both have duties and we might as well be about them.”
She made a moue of distaste and poked at her food some more. Even disheveled from their long ride, she couldn’t be anything less than glorious in his eyes—perhaps because he saw the joy and courage in her and craved it for himself.
“I want love, like my sisters have, not duty.” She stabbed a bit of meat with her fork and shredded it with her knife. “Will you tell me what is bothering you?”
Not likely. He wasn’t in the habit of confiding doubts, much less his deepest nightmares. He waved his fork dismissively. “The usual things. The loss of my family. I never expected to inherit. I know nothing of estate duties. I hate being unprepared.”
She nodded in understanding. “I’m not prepared either, so we’ll learn together. Is your house very large?”
Harry tried not to snort ale out his nose at this ingenuous question. “You’ll see on the morrow. You needn’t worry about the staff. My father and brother lived bachelor lives and the staff serves well without instruction.”
They would both do better if he could find the source of the estate’s financial problems and escape back to London and the lives they knew, but he didn’t know how quickly that could be accomplished.
Watching his bride of a few hours pick at her food, remembering the eagerness of her response to his kiss, his spirits lifted. Her dowry had forced Carthage to slink back into his hole for another six months. Perhaps that’s all it would take once Harry halted the flow of cash into the Abomination. Then he could spend the next few years producing heirs.
He had the feeling Christina would be an imaginative lover.
Auras, indeed! He smiled fondly and shoved back from the table. He’d best leave her to bathe alone or he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep tonight.
“Your bath should be
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