A Proper Lord's Wife (Properly Spanked Legacy 2)

He met her gaze, looked into those eyes that were just like his own. He had cold-heartedly thought of every possible way to escape this engagement, but here he was. “I was raised in a loving home and taught to be a proper gentleman,” he said. “If I’m ever cold-hearted to you, well, then, you must let me know.”

She laughed at that, her eyes curving up just like her lips. “It’s strange to think you’ll be my husband soon, and that we might talk about these sorts of things.”

Yes, it was very strange. Here was this unfathomable woman, soon to take up residence in his home, as well as his bed. He could not imagine making love to her. He still ached for Ophelia in his weaker moments, even though she was married to his damned faithless friend. Perhaps some magic would happen at the altar to make him forget Ophelia and lust for the woman before him. Perhaps not. He had no idea how things might square out between them, but he understood one thing for certain: it was his fault the two of them, two perfect strangers, were getting married this holiday.

She still clutched his handkerchief; by now, it was quite rumpled by her fingers. “I’ll try to be a very good wife to you, Lord Townsend, if only to thank you for rescuing me. I think if you hadn’t come along, I would have had a very sad and lonely life.”

She was making herself so vulnerable to him. He could hardly bear it. He didn’t want it. I worry I will destroy you, poor little Jane, all by accident.

“Come now.” He tilted his head to catch her gaze. “Someone would have come along and swept you up. You’re too charming to live a lonely life, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Even if someone else had come along, I doubt they would have been as dashing as you.” Her blush deepened to epic proportions. “It would have been one of my father’s widowed friends, or some dissolute rake looking to marry money.”

“You find me dashing, do you?”

She didn’t giggle or bat her eyes. No, she gave up without trying, and handed over his handkerchief, mute with her odd, admiring anxiety. She glanced longingly toward the house, and he took the hint.

“We ought to return, I suppose, before your flirting makes me kiss you.”

She looked shocked. Well, she could not have been kissed before. There was something appealing about an absolutely pure woman. And something appalling too, of course.

“I shall kiss your hand, if you don’t object.” He winked at her. “That’s what I meant, naturally.”

She offered her gloved hand and he pretended not to notice her trembling as he lifted it to his lips. He placed a delicate kiss upon the back of her palm, holding her gaze as he did. She did not have the glorious elegance of Ophelia, nor her older sister’s sparkling ebullience, but there was something there that compelled him. Her deference and vulnerability, maybe. He could win her over easily—and ask her to do just about anything in the bedroom once she was his.

That was how his dastardly mind worked. She found him “dashing,” but he was thinking about bedding her, and exploiting her purity and fear to his advantage.

Ah, well. Perhaps marriage would reform him. Why not? Nothing, to this point, had made reasonable sense. He matched his stride to hers as he led her back through the gardens. Once, she reached out to trail her fingertips along the top of a manicured shrub. His naturalist, as yet unknowable.

Back in the parlor, the parents were drawing up invitation lists for a wedding to take place two days before the New Year.

Chapter Four

How Lovely

Jane drifted amongst the guests at her wedding breakfast, feeling like a princess in her ruffled, dove-gray bridal gown. Her parents’ ballroom had been transformed into a winter wonderland of flowers and lace, with delicate glittering snowflakes hanging from the chandeliers. This elegant holiday wedding had been the best Christmas present she’d ever received. Between the lovely church service, her friends’ well wishes, and the shining weather, the day had been perfect in every sense. Well, except for one.

Lord Townsend didn’t seem very happy to be wed.

She told herself it was nerves as they stood at the altar. She’d been nervous too. The church had been full to the rafters, as just about everyone still in town had attended. He’d stood so straight and tall beside her he could have been a prince. His sister Felicity was married to a prince, but Jane couldn’t imagine that man, her new brother-in-law, being any finer than Lord Townsend in his tailored black wedding suit.

She feared she might stumble upon her vows, but his steady manner gave her the confidence she lacked. Now, as they rode together to their wedding breakfast, his mood remained sober. Almost somber.