“You’ll manage perfectly well. You always do.”
He didn’t understand the bitterness edging her response, although at least she looked less frozen. “I’ll request a report.”
Trying to read he
r mind, he stared into her eyes. He’d hoped to find desire. Instead he was shocked to see secrets.
What were they? Would she ever trust him enough to share them?
“Do that,” she said faintly. She lifted her glass and drained her brandy.
“You’re treating me like a dangerous stranger when you’ve known me all your life.” It was the tone he’d use to soothe a half-broken horse.
Her expression didn’t ease. “Somehow that makes it worse.”
He’d expected Pen to take this wedding night in her stride, the way she’d taken bandits and arrogant dukes and hurricanes in her stride. Her fear was disconcerting, troubling. He’d hoped that mutual hunger would carry them through any initial awkwardness. “Pen, we needn’t do this tonight.”
Her skittishness didn’t abate and her fingers tightened on her glass. “That’s astonishingly generous.”
She made it sound like generosity wasn’t in character. His lips flattened with displeasure. “Not really. You look ready to shriek if I touch you.”
She blushed. It always surprised him when this worldly woman went as pink as a peony. “You want an heir.”
“Yes, I do.” His laugh was sour. “But I can wait a day or two for that happy eventuality.”
Her gaze dropped with a shyness that surprised him. “I have a horrible feeling that putting off the evil moment will make things worse.”
For a blank moment, he stared at her, torn between unwilling amusement and outrage. Amusement won. He burst out laughing and reached for the glass twirling so furiously between her long fingers. “You’re a tonic for my vanity.”
She looked tense enough to snap. “I wasn’t trying to be humorous.”
He rose to carry the glasses to the dressing table in the alcove. “That’s what makes it amusing.”
His room was stocked with wine and brandy. Pen had a vase of stringy dahlias like the ones from the church and a brush set that had belonged to his mother. A reminder that his joke about marrying Pen in her petticoat wasn’t that funny. She’d lost everything with the Windhover.
Behind his back, he heard her sigh. She sounded like she carried the weight of the world. Despite his efforts at patience, temper stirred. Blast her, she was a bride. She was supposed to be cheerful. He wasn’t sure what Pen was feeling, but cheerful definitely didn’t describe it.
With a sigh to equal hers, he acknowledged defeat. Tonight at least. He was unreasonable to expect eagerness. His wife had had mere days to recuperate from the wreck and accept a radically different future from the one she’d planned. He wasn’t a barbarian, despite the throbbing weight in his loins. He could give her time to view that future with a tad more optimism.
“You’re tired, Pen. No need to stir early tomorrow. When you’re up, I’ll show you around the house.”
She regarded him with palpable disbelief. “That’s it?”
He straightened his shoulders from their discouraged slump and struggled to smile. Frustration stung like acid in his veins. “I know you won’t believe it, but I’m very happy that you married me.”
To his surprise, the black eyes sparked for the first time today. He had a nasty feeling that this reprieve had lifted her spirits. Just as he had a nasty feeling that he’d spend his wedding night alone with an improving book and a bottle of brandy.
“You’re right, I don’t believe it, but I appreciate your gallantry.” Her jaw no longer looked likely to shatter if she spoke one untoward word.
“In time, you will. It’s been a devil of a ride since we met. We’re both at sixes and sevens.” He spoke what he prayed was the truth. “We’ll get there. Goodwill and kindness will take us a long way.”
Her expression changed, although he was too far away to read her fathomless eyes. Damn it, he didn’t want to skulk back to the ducal chambers. He particularly didn’t want to lie in the big, cold bed alone.
No, he wanted Pen in his arms. He wanted to scale the ladder to heaven that had beckoned since he’d found her again. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and ignite her passions. More than that, he wanted to slide inside her long, glorious body and forget everything except pleasure.
Tonight, want took him nowhere.
He turned toward the door.