Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(52)

“Fidelity?” He hadn’t even thought about the word, much less the concept. A man stayed with his wife as long as his needs were met, and after that—after that he was discreet. Fidelity did not enter into it for a man of his class.

Ruby let out the slightest of sighs, and the barest glimmer of disappointment flashed across her face and then was gone. “So why are you here? Do you have questions to ask me?” She pushed herself more upright.

“Yes.”

Ruby raised a brow, and he sensed there was something he was supposed to know, to inquire about. But it was beyond his knowledge, as was this whole wife thing.

“I want to know about the wedding night.” There, he’d said it.

A sound that could only be a sputter left Ruby’s lips. “I thought you knew how to do that well enough.”

“No. With a lady—how does one—I have never been one for gentleness—what does she expect …” He was rarely at a loss for words, but in this moment he had none.

“I believe that your fiancée is a widow; surely she knows that …”

Without waiting for her reply, he paced back across the room to stare out between the shutters of the window at the darkened street. “I need to treat her like a lady, I know that. I’ve been working on it. I hardly even look at her for fear she’ll see what I really want. I do know—I suppose I was just looking for a way to tell her that … Bloody hell. It was not supposed to work this way. I was not supposed to want her like this. I should have known better than to propose, feeling as I do.”

“Really, Geoffrey, I do think that Lady Brookingston is more than you think. Have you talked to her, discussed this with her?”

Ruby knew whom he was marrying? He hadn’t realized gossip spread this far across London. “Of course not. She is a lady. One does not discuss such things with a lady.”

The settee creaked as Ruby rose and walked to stand behind him. “I will repeat: She is a widow, and perhaps not as innocent as you would like to believe. There is something you should know. I had hoped you knew already. Sit and listen, and I will tell you …”

Why had he come here tonight? For a man who always had a reason for everything and who knew his purpose each and every moment, he suddenly found himself at a loss. Why had he ever thought that Ruby would be able to help him? What could she possibly know about being a lady? Feeling disgust with himself, he grabbed his hat from the table where he’d tossed it. “I must be going. I should never have come.”

“Geoffrey, stop. I must tell you …”

He did not bother to listen as he strode from the room and into the hall.

“Well, well, I didn’t expect to see you here.” The slow female drawl came from the steps leading to the upper chambers.

Knowing what he would see, Swanston turned and gazed up at the Countess. She stood dressed in black, slapping a crop slowly against one booted calf.

He nodded in her direction and continued on his way to the door.

“Really, Swanston, I do think you could at least stop for a word with a lady. You wouldn’t want me to feel slighted, now would you?” She took a step down.

He really did not need this at the moment. “I would never wish you to feel slighted, my lady.” He paused and turned to her, but did not take a step in her direction.

“No, I didn’t think you would. You never know who I might talk to if I were feeling … unsatisfied.” The last word lingered in the hall.

“Do forgive me. I have plans on the morrow and must be going.”

“Aah, yes, the wedding. I do wish you luck with that. She appears a lovely woman—quite tender, I would think, absolutely delicious. I was surprised not to receive an invite.”

“It will be a small affair.”

“And here I thought we were such good friends, Swanston. We have been through so much together.”

Feeling a slight distaste at the images her words brought, he nodded again and prepared to leave. “It will hardly be more than family. And now you must excuse me.”

“Aah, I thought you realized that I’ve never liked musts. And family only—does that include your dear sister?”

He heard the threat in her words, but now was not the time. “Goodbye,” he said, and walked through the door without looking back.

This evening had been a mistake. Hopefully tomorrow night would be better.





Chapter Sixteen





It was done. Louisa glanced down at the large sapphire that adorned her slender finger. The stone seemed to weigh her down, capturing something she had not realized was free.

The wedding had been lovely: His family had welcomed her warmly, the duke embracing her and giving no hint of his doubts of the night before. Bliss had looked very young and sweet in a gown of palest yellow, giving no indication of the spirited girl about whom rumors abounded. The rest of his family had also been there, though she had to confess that it would be weeks before she’d be able to keep them straight.

There had been one moment of worry as they left the church, when one of Swanston’s brothers—she wasn’t quite sure which—had released hundreds of doves. It sounded romantic, but the actuality of feathers and mess had been something else again. Swanston’s ears had turned red and she’d thought he was about to release a torrent of curses, but instead he’d simply stepped with care to the carriage and held out his hand to her, brushing what she prayed was only a feather from her hair.