The Study of Seduction (Sinful Suitors, #2)(48)

“I’ll add it.”

“If you can’t—”

“It’s fine. We’ll stop at the solicitor’s office in the morning to have it put in and the signatures witnessed. Be sure to look over the settlement tonight to make sure you want no other changes.”

She swallowed. “You should probably not come to dinner. Just send a note saying you’re busy or something. Because it will be too hard for you to keep lying through Mama’s incessant chatter about our grand wedding that will never be.”

He scowled. “I didn’t think about that. You won’t get that grand wedding, and your mother will never forgive me for that.”

“Nonsense. You’re marrying me. She was afraid I’d never marry, so she’ll be fine. And we can have a grand party later to celebrate.”

“What about you? Will you regret not having that grand wedding?”

A sudden sharp pang in her chest told her that some part of her would, but she squelched it. “I never planned to marry, so I wouldn’t have had it anyway.”

Her tone must have been more wistful than she’d realized, for his eyes darkened. “It will be all right, Clarissa, I promise. I will make it all right.”

Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her. It was sweet and tender and utterly unthreatening. And it gave her hope that he might be telling the truth about their future. Because if he wasn’t, she didn’t know if she could bear it.





Thirteen


Edwin had no idea what to expect when he showed up at Warren’s town house the next morning. After a night alone, Clarissa might have changed her mind about marrying him. And then what could he do?

He’d already done his best to convince her that Durand wouldn’t call his bluff after they married. If that happened, she would never forgive him for obscuring the truth by deliberately playing down how devastating the scandal of his father’s spying could be for her. If Durand went to the press with his evidence—and threw in a few hints that Edwin had been involved, too—it would ruin them both.

Guilt made him wince. He should have told her all that. But she wouldn’t have married him if he had—he was sure of it. Clarissa liked being the belle of the ball.

What she didn’t like, apparently, was being the belle of the bedchamber.

But you must promise that I will be the one to choose when we share a bed, however long it takes.

Edwin sighed. It was that last part that stymied him. She’d spoken of his siring an heir, so she couldn’t mean to deny him her bed forever. And her plan was a sound one—to wait until they were more comfortable with each other to become intimate. So why did it gnaw at him that she’d even ask such a thing?

Because it made him wonder yet again what precisely was wrong with him. Despite accepting his kisses, despite her flirtations and her teasing, she didn’t want to be close the way a man and wife should be. It oughtn’t matter to him—he’d expected his marriage to be more of a business arrangement than a love match.

But he’d also expected to bed his bride. It was almost unbearable to think of being denied that.

Blast it, he was being ridiculous. Clarissa was just having a fit of nerves. She wouldn’t go on like that for long. Even if she did, he certainly knew how to tempt a lady into his bed. How hard could it be with a woman like Clarissa, who’d responded to his kisses with enthusiasm?

Assuming she didn’t rescind her agreement to marry him.

Fortunately, he arrived at the town house to find her waiting for him, dressed in a rather elaborate ensemble involving feathers and bows and an enormous hat with a transparent veil trimmed in lace. She looked rather like a gift box wrapped in net and oceans of silk, utterly inaccessible.

It didn’t help that her mother awaited him, too. “How lovely of you to take Clarissa driving in Green Park as an apology for missing last night’s dinner!” she exclaimed.

Thank God Clarissa had thought to provide a suitable lie for where they were going. “I was very sorry not to be here,” he said, which was the truth. His brief kiss with Clarissa in her bedchamber hadn’t been nearly enough.

“Well, a drive in the park should be quite invigorating at this hour. And she does enjoy early drives. As do I. Indeed, I thought I’d go along, but Clarissa says there’s no room in the phaeton for me.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “My equipage is small, I’m afraid. But if you want to go, you could ride behind on my tiger’s seat, and I’ll leave him here.”

As he’d expected, Lady Margrave was aghast. “Are you mad? Balance on the back of your phaeton? It sounds very uncomfortable. Why, I could easily fall right off! For shame, Edwin. I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing to your future mother-in-law.”

Clarissa’s lips twitched. “Yes, Edwin, how dare you?” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

That little glimpse of Clarissa’s usual teasing calmed all his fears. They would be fine. He would make it so. “I suppose I temporarily took leave of my wits.” He held out his arm. “Why don’t we go, then, before everyone descends on the park?”

“Of course,” she said brightly.

They headed out the door at precisely 9:00 A.M. As they walked down the steps, he murmured, “Thank you for coming up with a suitable tale for your mother. You know how I hate lying.”