“We’re here to be married!” Daniel announced without as much as a “how do you do.” His spirits were much too high to consider formality.
All eyes turned to him and Rebecca. There was a beat of silence, then the large man said, “Well, you’ve come to the right place then. Follow me.”
Leading them through a back door and out into an open courtyard, the large man, who stood roughly a head over Daniel, pointed toward a wall from behind which could be heard a loud clanging sound. “Smithy’s right over there. He’ll see to the formalities, and once you’re done, I’ll be happy to let you a room for the night.”
“Thank you, sir.” Daniel stuck out his hand. “You’ve been most helpful. Are you by any chance the innkeeper?”
“Yes,” the man responded. He accepted Daniel’s hand and gave it a hard shake.
“Then perhaps you’d also be good enough to prepare some food for us? We’re both quite famished.”
The innkeeper gave them a few options, from which they chose a meat and potato stew, requesting a pitcher of red wine to go with it.
“Ready?” Daniel asked as soon as the innkeeper had gone back inside. Daniel offered Rebecca his arm, which she accepted with a smile.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, upon which they started toward a new chapter in each of their lives as they strolled over to see the blacksmith.
“That was surprisingly painless,” Daniel said as they sat across from each other twenty minutes later enjoying the first bites of their supper.
Rebecca looked up from her stew, her eyes filled with merriment. “You do realize that the leg-shackle is a metaphor, right?”
Daniel attempted a serious expression. “Really? Who would have thought?” Reaching for the pitcher of wine, Daniel filled both of their glasses. “A toast,” he said, “to you, our friendship and the future ahead.”
“And to you as well, my husband,” Rebecca said, her radiant smile not leaving her face for an instant while she took a sip of her wine.
Daniel stared at her. He really had been fortunate to find her, and now she would be his forever, to have and to hold . . . to wed and to bed. He chuckled, admonishing himself for his wayward thoughts.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, her eyes pinning him with an impishness he’d come to adore.
“Nothing really. I’m just really happy right now and grateful that you would have me.”
A tiny frown creased her forehead. “Well, my options were limited and—”
“Don’t ruin it,” he said. He reached for her hand, noticing how still she grew as they made contact. His heart began to race with the expectation of what would happen next. “Becky . . . whatever our circumstances were, I want you to know that I’m grateful for the way things turned out. In all likelihood it would have taken me years yet to get married if my uncle hadn’t forced me to do so now, and I have to say that while jumping into matrimony with you may have been rash, I think we’re quite well suited. We can be good together you and I, don’t you think?”
She’d been studying him as he’d spoken, but now she nodded. “Yes, I do. We share a similar sense of humor at least—I’m sure our life together will be filled with laughter.”
“An essential element to a happy union if you ask me.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Shall we take the pitcher upstairs with us?” Daniel asked once their meal was over. He knew that she had to be feeling a little apprehensive about the prospect of what was to come, and he hoped that the wine would help ease her concerns. She said nothing but nodded instead, allowing him to lead the way. “It’s not much, I suppose,” he said as they stood inside the small room the innkeeper had given them. There was barely enough space for anything other than the bed, which seemed exceptionally large—so much so that it practically taunted them.
“I suppose we should try to get some rest,” Rebecca said, her eyes fixed on the dwarfing piece of furniture.
Rest?
He reached out his hand to pull her into his arms, but she stepped inside the room, her back turned toward him as she started circumventing the bed, oblivious of his intentions. Apparently this was going to be harder than he’d expected.
Closing the door behind him and turning the lock, Daniel watched as Rebecca went to the window and looked out. Her hair was set in a neat coiffure that she’d somehow managed to arrange on her own, though a few loose tendrils had come undone since this morning and were now snaking their way between her shoulder blades. As on the night of the ball, he longed to unpin the entire mass and watch it cascade over her shoulders, to run his fingers through its softness while he kissed the sweep of that long and delicate neck.
Blood roared through his veins at the thought of it, of what she would taste like and how she would respond. If the kiss they’d shared in her wardrobe was any indication, she would eagerly return his sensual ministrations. With her back still turned, he shrugged out of his jacket and began undoing his cravat. “Anything out there catch your interest?” he asked.
She looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged. “Nothing much.” Her eyes narrowed and she turned to face him. “Surely you’re not planning on getting completely undressed.”
Daniel grinned. “Why? Would you like to have that honor?”
She rolled her eyes and plopped down on the bed, lying down with her arms crossed over her belly and looking completely uninviting. Daniel’s fingers paused on a cuff link. “Is something the matter?” he asked.
Her eyes met his, and he knew instinctively that she was not as eager for them to consummate their marriage as he was. Hell and damnation! He’d thought she felt as much desire for him as he did for her. Could he have been wrong?
“Look, it’s not that I don’t like you, Daniel, because I find your company to be delightfully entertaining,” she said, smiling as usual. “But we’ve already established that you’d like to continue seeking the company of whatever woman strikes your fancy.”
Daniel frowned. “I don’t believe I—”
“I’ve no intention of demanding that you don’t see other women, Daniel. The last thing I want is for you to grow to resent me. Besides, it’s not as if I ever expected you to be faithful, but seeing it firsthand . . . well, I suppose I can admit that my pride was momentarily wounded.”
Aha! So she had been jealous. This was a good sign.
“But as you can see, I’ve now recovered and am prepared to accept you for who you are.”
“And who exactly would that be?” he asked, wary of the way she’d said it—as if he was some sort of rare specimen she’d happened to stumble upon.
“Why, a rake of course. A man who takes his pleasure with whatever woman he desires.” Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she rose up on one elbow. “Is it true that you usually set them up in a house of their own? Do you still have such a house?”
Good God!
Was he really having this conversation with his wife?
She gazed at him knowingly as she said, “Forget I asked, for I can see that you do.”
Of course he did. Between speaking with his uncle and attending the Kingsborough Ball, he’d barely had enough time to send his mistress packing, let alone rid himself of the apartment he’d rented for her to live in. He nodded his response, but not without noticing a brief flicker of pain in Rebecca’s eyes. Perhaps she wasn’t as indifferent as she wanted to let on. Deciding to play along, Daniel sat on the edge of the bed and began pulling off his boots. “And what of you? What will you do while I’m out entertaining all these women?”
Her voice was decidedly terser when she spoke again. “I suppose I’ll have Laura for company, although I imagine that in time I’ll probably take a lover as well.”
Daniel stiffened. This was a turn in the conversation that he hadn’t anticipated. “You’re mad,” he muttered, not the least bit pleased about the thought of Rebecca in the arms of another man.
“No, Daniel, I’m not,” she said as if they’d been discussing something as mundane as the weather, “but I am the adventurous sort, in case you hadn’t noticed, and I will not sit at home playing the dutiful wife while you go out and have all the fun. If that was what you wanted, then you should have married someone else.”
Daniel clenched his jaw. He felt a strong headache coming on. “What if I told you that I have no interest in any other women, but that you’re the only woman I want?”
Rebecca took a deep breath, held it for a moment and then expelled the air with a deep sigh. “Daniel, I’ve known you for a mere week, and while you did go to great effort to save me, you did so not for my benefit alone but for yours as well. I will admit that I did dream of us running away together, falling madly in love and living happily ever after, but it’s just a fantasy, as proven by the fact that as soon as another offer presented itself, you took it.”
“Lady Vernon means nothing to me, Becky.”
“And that’s supposed to console me? That you would so easily share a kiss with another woman—one who means nothing to you?”
Damn it all, but this conversation was not going well.
“You know, it’s my own fault really,” Rebecca continued quietly as she stared up at the ceiling. “Lady Trapleigh warned me that—”
Daniel grimaced. “She’s hardly the sort of woman you ought to place your trust in.”
Rebecca turned her head to look at him. “Why? Because she’s your female counterpart?”
Touché.
Rebecca’s gaze returned to the ceiling. “She helped me when I needed it. The red gown I wore to the ball was hers.”
“Of course it was.” Who else would have given a scarlet gown to an unmarried lady?
“I’m sorry, Daniel, but you’ve given me reason to believe that you’ll eventually be tempted into another woman’s bed. If it is to be an inevitability, then I’d rather accept it than pretend it won’t happen. I like you, and I want us to get along, but please try to understand that as long as you’re likely to stray, you and I cannot be more than friends, and our bedroom activities will serve two purposes alone—the consummation of this marriage and the production of an heir. Once both have been achieved, it will probably be best if we limit any intimacy between us.”
Bloody hell!
Daniel stared back at her. He was horrified, not just by her words—words that took a hatchet to their blooming relationship—but at himself for the mistake he’d made in not being more insistent in pushing Lady Vernon away. It was a mistake that had cost him Rebecca’s trust. The question now was, What could he say to get them back on the right path—one where his wife wasn’t so bloody intent on their living beneath the same roof as friends while they each went off to entertain their lovers? Of everything he’d seen and heard over the years, this was by far the most outrageous. Feeling as if he was losing control, he decided to change his tactics. He had to assert himself before he lost her forever. “Forgive me, Becky, but I’m your husband now, and I will not be denied a proper marriage.”