Miss Winthorpe's Elopement (Belston & Friends #1)(55)
He shook his head and smiled to himself. Last night’s conversation had been more than strange. If it had been any other woman in the world, the solution would have been easy. The merest suggestion on his part, and an assignation would have been guaranteed. That he should have to explain the obvious, quietly and politely to his own wife, and then wait for her assent, was an idea beyond comprehension.
But he had not realised, until last night, that their plan to remain apart was a disaster in the making. It had never occurred to him that his wife might have favourites, just as his friends’ wives did. That he had no right to expect her fidelity nor method to encourage it had struck him like a thunderclap.
And to see his best friend at her side, so far from the ballroom, had churned up all the feelings of guilt that he had been trying to hide. If only Tim had told him not to be an idiot when he’d questioned him. But he had laughed it off, and given him a knowing look that said, ‘It would serve you right.’
Adam must nip it in the bud immediately. He was not without charm. He had been told he was surpassingly handsome. And he was a duke, damn it all, which should be more than sufficient for even the most selective of wives. He would bring the sum total of his experience to bear on the problem and the inexperienced printer’s daughter would melt in his hands like butter.
Was already melting, come to that. He’d felt her kisses the previous night, and seen the stricken look she had given him when he’d stopped.
This morning, she sat there, her lips swollen and chapped from his kiss, and watched him when she did not think he would notice. This was much more of what he expected. She had not noticed him before, and he had not realised how it had annoyed him.
Now she was aware. Sexually aware of him. Watching his hands and thinking that they had touched her. Watching his mouth and knowing that it would kiss her again. And wondering about the garter that lay coiled in his pocket, and what she might be willing to do to get it.
He had wondered about that himself. He had imagined her response would be stiff and awkward, and perhaps a little cold. But the image of warm butter was more apt. Hot and delicious.
He licked his lips, and she followed the movement of his tongue with fascination, before looking away and feigning interest in her book.
It would not be too very long before she was as eager to give herself to him as he was to take her. He would do as he willed with her for as long as he liked—for a lifetime, if necessary—and there would be no more of this nonsense about taking lovers and leading separate lives.
And it all would be settled before the first snows fell, and his wife realised that her main sources of entertainment for the long winter months would be visits from his brother Will, and their good neighbour, Tim. He would have no peace in his own home if he could not trust the woman he had married when she was out of his sight. And while he wished, in many things, he could emulate the fine character of his friend, he had no wish to marry for wealth, only to have the woman put horns on him and make him the laughing stock of London.
They pulled into an inn yard for the evening, and he helped his wife from the carriage and told Jem to arrange food for them, a private sitting room, and a single bedroom.
The servant could not hide his brief look of surprise, and followed it with an insolent glare before doing as he was bid. Later, after Penny was safely inside, he caught up with his wife’s servant, slouching the baggage toward the rooms. ‘Here, fellow. I wish a word with you.’
Jem turned and set the bags on the floor and then straightened. For the first time, Adam noticed the bulk of the man, who stood several inches taller than he did, and was broad and strong of back, despite his advancing age. The servant glared down at him, too close for a bow in the enclosed space of the hallway, and touched his forelock. ‘Your Grace?’
‘Just now, in the courtyard. I did not like the look you gave me when I gave you instruction.’
‘So sorry, your Grace. I will endeavour to improve myself in the future.’ But the man was still looking at him as though concluding that one good slap would be all it might take to send the title to Will.
Adam straightened as well, putting on the air of command that served him so well in the House of Lords. ‘It is no business of yours where your mistress sleeps. Or if we might choose to put aside the ridiculous arrangement created by Penny in favour of something closer to sanity. From this point forward, we will be acting as other couples do, and not as two strangers pretending to be married.’
Jem’s eyes narrowed, and he said, ‘Very good, your Grace. Because all intelligent people aspire to a union that is the current mode of the day: full of luxury, casual carnality and pretence, but devoid of any sincere feeling between the parties involved. Unless one is to count the contempt you seem to have for one another. My mistress has never wanted more than her parents had: a true meeting of the minds and a deep and abiding affection, strong enough to transcend the bonds of life itself. When her father died, your Grace, it held no fear for him, for he was convinced that his wife waited for him on the other side. That is what my mistress expected. When she found she could not have it, then she wanted to be left alone, and in peace.’
The servant looked down upon him again, as if he were still face down in the muck of the inn yard. ‘And in the end, she will have to settle for you.’ He picked up the bags that he had dropped, balanced them easily on his shoulders, and started down the hall. ‘This way to your room, your Grace.’