10. Chapter 10
ten
F or the next two hours, David drove her around the village and estate, showing her the bakery where he first practiced his charm as a boy by wooing Mrs. Witherspoon into giving him all the cinnamon twists he could eat.
He only learned later that his brother kept an account there and would pay off his debt every month.
He took her on the road through the forest where he and some of the boys from the village would pretend to be highwaymen and hold up the servants and tenants that drove through.
Later, when he’d befriended Dev and other boys from school, he brought them home in the summers and the band of merry highwaymen grew until Alfred put a stop to it because they were a menace.
By then he had been more interested in wooing village girls anyway.
Finally, they came to the knoll that overlooked the lake. The back of the estate house could be seen on the other side. He pulled the carriage to a stop and helped her down. “My favorite place on the estate,” he explained.
Around a dozen ancient oaks decorated the grassy knoll, their branches wide and low and strong enough to climb on. A few willows dipped their drooping leaves at the water’s edge, creating a veiled little refuge from the world. In their midst, a small table had been set up in a shaft of sunlight .
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A bit of food in case you’re hungry.”
He led the way to the table and held out a chair for her. After she sat, he pulled off the checkered coverings to reveal a cold pitcher of lemonade, condensation running down the side, and a basket of bread, a crock of cheese, sliced oranges, and grapes.
Her face brightened at the offering. “I’m starving. I didn’t have much of an appetite for breakfast.”
“You might have said something earlier.” He didn’t like the idea of her being hungry while he lazily drove them around.
She shook her head. “I didn’t realize I was until I saw the food.”
She didn’t wait for him to serve her, nor did she bother to serve him.
Instead, she took a napkin and placed it in her lap before grabbing the cheese knife and slathering a thick layer on a piece of bread.
He couldn’t help but watch in fascination as she brought it to her lips and took a rather generous bite.
His gaze caught on the creamy cheese that clung to her bottom lip as she chewed.
“It’s delicious,” she said around the bite.
He was accustomed to eating around women.
He’d been to some dinner party or other multiple times a week for as long as he could remember.
That wasn’t counting the teas and charity luncheons he sometimes got pulled into on behalf of his brother and Kit.
Those were staid and dignified affairs. If anyone truly enjoyed their food at those events, they certainly didn’t let it show. Not like this.
She shoved another bite into her mouth before she seemed to notice he was staring. “You aren’t eating. Try it.” Covering her mouth with her fingertips, she swallowed and finished with, “Where did this cheese come from? It’s very good.”
“The dairy.” He waved vaguely in the direction of the place that was less than two miles away .
“Near the village? No wonder it’s so good. Have some.” She took another slice of bread and topped it with a generous helping of cheese before drizzling it with honey and handing it to him.
He accepted it graciously and a shiver of electricity ran up his hand from where his fingers touched hers.
“Try it,” she urged when he hesitated while the sensation worked its way through his body.
He took a bite and she was right, it was delicious, but he could hardly focus on that. Her eyes held him in their thrall. When she watched him with such avid interest he couldn’t look away. “Very good,” he managed when she raised her brows at him, looking for his reply.
She nodded, satisfied, and took another bite of her own.
Then she absently reached out and took up a few grapes.
He couldn’t help but be fascinated by her.
He had seen her countless times over the course of the Season and beyond but this was the first time he felt that he had seen her as she really was.
Relaxed and animated, not the painted doll that she became for formal entertainments.
He liked her even more like this, which was saying something, because he liked her quite a lot otherwise.
“You’re staring,” she said, pausing before taking another bite.
“You have…” He reached out with his napkin, pointing at the corner of her mouth.
She blushed and used her own napkin to wipe the cheese away, chasing the motion with her tongue to make certain she got it all.
He swallowed as a wave of lust crashed over him.
This was insane. They were outside. The same servants who had set this table and food out for them could come back any moment and here he was lusting after his own wife with a cockstand in his trousers.
He was worse than an adolescent .
“Are you all right?” She reached over and put her hand on his.
He stared at their hands. Hers soft and white, his broader and stronger. In his mind, he saw her beneath him tonight. She’d be soft all over and eager for him.
“I’m fine.” He nearly bit the words out. He didn’t sound fine at all. It must be because he’d been celibate since that bloody party when she’d finagled that promise from him. Also, he’d been too preoccupied to take himself in hand this morning. He’d have to rectify that before tonight.
He withdrew his hand and touched the napkin to his upper lip and brow, noting the sweat that had gathered there. He’d completely relinquished all power in this relationship to her. What in the bloody hell was wrong with him?
He searched for any subject that would soothe the blood burning through his veins. “Kit,” he practically yelled, seizing on a topic.
She startled. “What about him?”
“He’s fond of you,” he said, eluding back to their earlier discussion. “You like him.”
“Yes, he’s very nice to me. I don’t know that your brother feels the same way,” she added, taking to this new line of conversation.
“Alfred is a strange man, but trust me, if he didn’t like you, then you wouldn’t be here.”
She raised a skeptical brow. “Are you certain about that?”
No, actually, he wasn’t. David would have found a way to wed her regardless of his brother’s feelings on the matter. “Well, he certainly didn’t have strong resistance to you.”
“That’s reassuring. My brother-in-law doesn’t have strong resistance to me.”
He laughed at her wry tone. “ I like you. Isn’t that all that matters?”
She gave him a shrug with one shoulder and the coy smile he loved. “I think you like certain parts of me.”
That was very true. His gaze all but clung to the shape of her breasts beneath her walking dress before he managed to pull it away.
He cleared his throat and poured them both a glass of lemonade.
Setting back in his chair, he savored the sweet drink as he watched her polish off her bread.
Finally, he managed to ask the one question that had been nagging at him since she approached him in the carriage that night at the train station.
“You don’t mind my brother’s relationship with Kit. Why?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Most people pretend not to care or not to notice. No one speaks of them as a couple. It’s always the duke’s friend, Mr. Warwick, and never the duke’s lover.
” If she was shocked by his matter-of-fact manner, she didn’t show it.
If he was being honest, this was something else that drew him to her.
“Most of the women in Society would have tolerated Kit but never seen him as part of the family.”
“You don’t think I’m like that?”
He shook his head. “It’s in the way you look at him and talk to him. You let him have his way with our wedding and your gown. Why?”
She shrugged again and smiled. “It seemed important to him. Besides, he has very good taste. I would have been a fool to not listen to his advice.”
He grinned at her. “But you’re avoiding my original question.”
Her eyes flashed to his coyly and then she returned to her meal. “As you might have realized, my mother is very…theatrical. She had many friends in the theater when we were growing up.”
When David had decided upon this marriage, Dev had shared the little a private sleuth had dug up about the Dove family back in the spring when he’d planned to propose to Cora.
The family had lived in a small townhome near the Bowery in Manhattan in what was once a fashionable neighborhood but had fallen on hard times in recent decades.
The family themselves had also fallen on hard times.
Jeremiah Dove, a man much older than Fanny, had died, leaving the woman and three girls to all but fend for themselves on his meager leavings.
He’d owned or been a prominent investor in several theaters across the country, which led to the rumor that Mrs. Dove had been an actress in her younger years.
No one had confirmed the theory but it was easy to see it in the way she presented herself and mimicked her betters.
She was one of the primary reasons the Dove girls hadn’t been as well received as they might have been with their hefty inheritances.
“Did she?” he asked.
She stared at him and he saw a flicker of apprehension behind her eyes as she worried about what he knew. So the rumors about her mother being an actress were correct. He kept his expression blank and gave her a slight nod, urging her to continue.
“She would host dinner parties and invite actors and singers over. There were many couples among them. Sometimes men together or women together. Occasionally, there were more than two in the relationship. It solidified for me that I’d prefer a relationship with genuine affection rather than one of affectation. ”