‘Oh...’ She faltered. Didn’t he know what she was trying to ask? He was supposed to be a libertine! Surely she didn’t have to come straight out and say it? But apparently she did... She cleared her throat with embarrassment.
‘Would we share it?’
‘Share what?’
‘The bedroom?’
A pair of dark eyebrows rose upwards in unison. ‘Would you want to?’
‘No!’ She felt her cheeks flare a vivid shade of crimson. She was trying to understand what he wanted, not saying what she did!
‘Forgive me...’ he sat up a little straighter ‘...but given your upbringing...’
‘You didn’t expect me to think of it?’ She willed her face to cool down, although it seemed determined to do the opposite. ‘I probably never would have, but my friend Ianthe and her husband are very...affectionate. She’s told me a few details as well.’
‘Indeed?’
‘And I wanted to know...’ Somehow she forced herself to keep talking. Now that she’d started, she had to at least finish her question, no matter how mortifying. ‘That is...I wanted to know what exactly our marriage would involve?’
‘Ah, and your friend has told you it involves sharing a bedroom?’
‘Yes. She and Robert do, but she says that sometimes, for some couples, it’s only occasionally.’ She picked up her glass again and took several long draughts.
‘I wouldn’t gulp it like that when you’re not used to it.’ His voice sounded strangely gravelly. ‘It might make you feel ill later.’
She stopped drinking although she didn’t put the glass down, tapping a finger against the side while she waited for him to respond. Judging by the silence, he didn’t know quite what to say.
‘What else has she told you?’ he asked finally.
‘About marriage?’
‘Yes.’
‘That they share a bed, too.’
‘Anything else?’
She cleared her throat awkwardly. Ianthe had told her a little more than that, but she certainly wasn’t going to repeat it.
‘I see.’ His voice softened slightly. ‘Violet, I would never ask you to do anything that you objected to. I certainly wouldn’t force you to share a room or a bed with me. My initial plans are simply to save the estate. The rest can follow afterwards.’
‘The rest?’ Her voice seemed to have jumped up an octave.
‘I’m afraid that providing an heir is another one of those duties my father would have expected me to fulfil. It would make sharing a bedroom—a bed—necessary on occasion, though only with your consent, of course.’
She took another mouthful of wine, mind whirling. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the word duty. Somehow it implied a distinct lack of freedom. It wasn’t particularly flattering either, as if that was the only reason he’d want to share a bed with her, and as for children... A month ago she’d never envisaged being married, let alone anything else. It was becoming hard to keep up with all the changes in her life, yet the thought wasn’t unpleasant. She would like to have children some day.
‘As I said, there’s no rush.’ Lance’s gaze was searching, as if he were worried about her reaction. ‘Especially since I can’t legally inherit my brother’s title for seven years.’
‘Oh.’ She blinked. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’
‘In which case, why don’t we agree to think about children in seven years? That’s seven years of freedom for you, seven years of trying to put this place right for me. After that we can settle down to a life of quiet domesticity. You might even have learned to like me by then.’
‘What about your plan to drink yourself into oblivion?’ She frowned at the memory of what he’d said the previous evening. ‘You might not last seven years.’
‘I appreciate the confidence.’ He looked down at the glass in his hand. ‘All right. You drive a hard bargain, Miss Harper, but what if I refrain from drinking during daylight hours?’
‘Only in daylight?’