11. Chapter 11
eleven
A groom was waiting to help Jenny out of the carriage when they returned.
As she waited for David to hand off the reins and join her on the walking path, she fought the disturbing feeling that had risen inside her when he’d admitted to sleeping with another woman on the day of their engagement party.
A niggling voice in the back of her mind labeled that feeling jealousy.
But she couldn’t be jealous. She’d only wanted his fidelity so she wouldn’t appear the fool, not because of any emotional attachment to him.
But the more she tried to deny it, the more that emotion pushed its way in.
It was made even worse by how it entangled itself in the desire she already felt for him.
Anticipation for tonight ran rampant inside her.
Every touch of his hand sent another spark shooting through her. Every look was as palpable as a touch.
“The horse seems to be favoring his left hind leg,” David said to the groom.
Jenny turned in time to see the servant jerk his gaze from her to the horse. A flash of irritation flickered across David’s face, but she didn’t know if it was because of the way the man had been obviously staring at her or because of the horse.
“I shall examine him myself, your lordship,” the groom said.
“Please do. I noticed it when we made the turn just there.” David indicated the curve of the drive. “Might’ ve picked up a stone.”
David offered Jenny his arm and she put her hand on him very lightly and allowed him to lead her inside.
Instead of the grand marble staircase in the front entry with its landing lined with statues and busts of important people, both real and mythological, they walked up the modest yet still impressive wooden staircase at the back of the house.
The steps were polished and draped with a thick carpet she was certain was an antique.
“Where are we going?” she asked while trying not to breathe in too deeply. He smelled delicious in the way of a man who could afford his own custom mixed cologne. It was spicy and clean with an undercurrent she now identified as bergamot, a new favorite.
“My apartments.” The easy way he spoke the words did not match the riot they evoked in her stomach. “They’re a mirror of your own apartment.”
He meant the room she’d woken up in this morning. “My own apartment?”
He stared straight ahead as they turned onto a hallway she thought she recognized. If she was correct, her room was at the far end. “Yes, those rooms are yours from now on.”
“For as long as we’re married.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to clarify, but she did.
He glanced at her, a little trench forming between his brows, and then he opened a door.
They stepped into a sitting room with doors leading off either side.
The open door led to his bedroom; she could make out a thick post that made up one corner of his bed.
She blushed immediately and hoped he didn’t see it.
Her heartbeat pulsed between her legs. If he offered to see to the consummation now, she’d accept. What was wrong with her?
The few times she and Vincent had been together physically had been pleasant, but she’d never longed for their quick and hurried coupling like this. She much preferred when he spoke soft and gentle words to her and whispered poetry about her beauty.
This consuming desire could be troublesome.
“Jenny?” David’s voice brought her back to the present.
“It’s a nice space,” she said, pretending that she’d been studying the sitting room with its wood paneled walls with several floor-to-ceiling tapestries in dark blues and grays.
His tie suddenly seemed to bother him. He took it off in impatient snatches and nodded to the other door, which was closed. “Through here.”
He led the way to the attached study. This room featured several windows on one wall, a tall bookcase on another, and a large desk in the middle with two chairs in azure brocaded silk facing it.
It was a strangely studious space. Several leather-bound ledgers sat on the desk and the bookcase was stocked with actual books.
She took a brief detour to look them over.
There were fiction classics, scientific works, an entire section of legal casework and theory, books on art, and a few shelves of texts in Latin.
“Have you read these?” she asked.
When he didn’t answer immediately, she turned back to him. He stood behind the desk, taking her in as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her.
“Many of them. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t think of you as a reading man.” She abandoned her perusal and took a seat across the desk from him, taking a moment to arrange her skirts in a practiced manner so they fell artfully around her feet.
He watched her until she looked up and caught him.
Only then did he drop down into his chair and toss his tie to the side of the desk blotter.
“I am literate.” He indicated the book on the corner of his desk with a ribbon placeholder sticking out of it like he’d been reading it earlier. “Did you believe otherwise?”
“Hmm.” She tilted her head and pretended to give the issue serious thought. “I knew you could read, I simply never assumed you’d prefer it over other activities.”
“Other activities?” He settled back in his chair, the leather creaking as he laced his fingers together over his flat stomach.
She tried not to remember that she’d see that part of him tonight. Or perhaps she wouldn’t. Would he prefer to keep his nightshirt on? She nearly laughed at that. No, she couldn’t imagine him as anything but a hedonist who’d delight in being nude. Butterflies floated across her stomach.
What had he asked her? Oh yes.
“I suppose I imagine you spend your evenings at Montague Club or one of the other clubs in London. Then you spend the night with a convenient woman before waking in the afternoon to do it all over again.”
“A convenient woman? You have a high opinion of me, wife.”
That word made a strange sensation zip through her. She forced herself to stillness. “It’s only that I know you don’t have a mistress.”
He grinned, a practiced smile that made him look devilishly attractive. “How do you know that?”
“Everyone says you don’t. You won’t be tied down, they say.” She could confess this to him so easily because talking to him had always been easy…at least about things like this. Things that didn’t matter.
He shrugged and raised his brow, not denying it. “Everyone talks entirely too much, but at least in this they’re correct.”
“No mistress, but a wife now. Imagine what they’re saying about that,” she teased.
“I don’t have to imagine.” He sighed and slid one of the ledgers in front of him.
“There is outrage and intrigue and every emotion in between, but soon there will be resignation. My eventual marriage was expected. Had I taken you as mistress, however, I am certain the outrage would last much longer.”
Arranged marriages happened every day for money and power, but taking a mistress when one had publicly sworn not to would suggest something else. It would indicate deeper affection.
“But,” he continued, “I’m more concerned with your astonishment in the fact that I employ my mind for endeavors other than drink and merriment.”
“Am I wrong?”
“You do realize that I am a member of the Law Society and oversee the contracts and negotiations of my family’s business interests? Much of my day is spent in conference, negotiations, and consultation.”
There was a reason his family had managed to retain their wealth when most had clung to the old ways of agricultural interests and lost theirs. From what she had heard, his father and grandfather had begun diversifying into industry well before it was necessary or even fashionable.
“That’s what I hear, of course, but it’s difficult to imagine you like that.”
He frowned at her as if he didn’t know whether to be insulted or not.
Now was as good a time as any to redirect their attention. “What is it you have there?” She indicated the ledger.
He continued to stare at her, perplexed, before looking down at it as if he’d forgotten its existence.
Then he made a very visible effort to move on to the new topic.
Opening it, he turned it toward her and said, “You’ll see that I’ve opened an account with the funds Hathaway signed over.
I’ve added your name, which gives you access to the account at your discretion. ”
She scanned the page and gasped when she saw the figure included. “The entire amount is here.”
“Of course,” he said without inflection.
She looked up at him and his earnest gaze met hers. “But that wasn’t the agreement. We are meant to split it.”
“Both our names are on the account. Technically, we are splitting it.”
“But I could withdraw the full amount.”
“Do you intend to?” he asked.
“Well…no, but I could.”
The corner of his mouth ticked like he was fighting back a smile, but he managed to win the battle. “I’ve no need for your inheritance, Jenny. I only had one requirement when we made our agreement.” Heat flashed in his eyes and he looked at her meaningfully.
That flash of heat echoed deep in her stomach. She swallowed thickly, unable to form words.
“The money is here for your use,” he continued. “However, I’d also like to open at least one investment account for you. There’s no need for it to sit here when it could earn you a handsome income.” He opened the other ledger. “I’ve listed several options here.”