Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed (Sons of Sin 1)

Jonas didn’t give her time to admire the changes in the house’s fussy décor. Instead, after a footman took their outer wear, he entered the library, little used by either her sister or William in the past but now clearly the center of operations.

“My lord.” A young man set aside his pen and rose from the desk beneath the windows. A larger desk new to the house must be where Jonas worked.

She’d never seen evidence of his business activities. At Castle Craven, he’d been a man of leisure. She supposed now, as his wife, she had a vested interest in his financial affairs. Sadly she doubted he’d ever trust her enough to confide details of his work.

Jonas gestured her toward a brocade chair near the fire, then turned to the man. “Warren, you may finish for the day.”

“Thank you, my lord.” The man, obviously a secretary, bowed to Sidonie. “Felicitations, my lady.”

She murmured a reply, piqued that Jonas had been so sure of her that he’d told his staff he’d return with a wife.

Once they were alone, Jonas strode to the far side of the desk. “I’ll leave George Warren here with you. He’s a capable young man who will help establish you in town. He’ll contact me if need be.”

Sidonie stiffened and turned slowly to face this man she’d wed against her instincts. She spoke with the desperately held control that she’d maintained since recognizing that marriage was inescapable. “Why on earth should he need to contact you?”

Jonas was occupied with checking the desk drawers. “If you need funds or there’s a problem with the house.”

She noticed Jonas didn’t mention the baby, when surely if she needed to communicate with her husband, the subject would be her pregnancy. “Why should I go through Mr. Warren, efficient and obliging as I’m sure he is?”

He slid a leather folder across the desk in her direction. “Everything you need is here, including details of personal and household accounts I’ve opened for you at Child’s Bank. The amounts should be adequate, but I have no intention of being a parsimonious husband. Ask Warren if you need more.” He cast a dismissive glance at her outdated merino dress, which even she recognized as inadequate to a viscountess’s dignity. “I’m happy to give you any money you like for a new wardrobe.”

“I know I need clothes—”

He spoke over her as if she hadn’t interrupted. “You’ll need a doctor. Have you anyone in mind? As my wife, you should have no difficulty being accepted as a patient. The fellow can forward reports to me.”

The flood of information passed over her head like a skater across thick ice. Instead her mind fastened on the implications of what he said. She stood and frowned in confusion. “Jonas, aren’t you going to be here?”

He didn’t meet her eyes. Instead he stalked over to the window and stared out as if fascinated by the leafless trees in his garden. After a pause that made her blood run colder than the church where she’d just married him, he spoke without looking at her. “Sidonie, I have no plans to live with you.”

“Ever?” She shouldn’t be shocked. Today he’d worked hard to maintain his distance. She’d already wondered if he’d want her back in his bed now that she was his wife.

“Ever,” he confirmed in a voice that invited no argument.

“Then why marry me?” she asked bitterly. She withdrew her hands from the hearth and wrapped them around her waist to hide their shaking.

He turned but kept a rein over any emotions. “You know why. For the child.”

She staggered back and curled an unsteady hand around the edge of the mantelpiece to stay upright. Every time she thought she’d plumbed the full pain of this love, she discovered yet another layer of agony. She was torn between shock and distress. “So you won’t try to forgive me? Even now we’re tied together for life?”

His lips tightened, she wasn’t sure whether in anger or regret. “Sidonie, I won’t live with a woman I can’t trust.”

“You can trust me.” She released the mantelpiece and ventured nearer, although the tension in his body warned her not to touch him.

His laugh struck like a whip. “Where the devil is my good sense? Of course I can trust you. You’ve proven yourself so eternally on my side.”

/> She flinched at his sarcasm. “You know why I kept the marriage lines secret.”

The hard-won neutrality drained from his expression. Her stomach cramped with guilt as she realized how profoundly the rift between them wounded him.

“Yes, I do.” His voice was even, as if he discussed a balance sheet and not their life together. “I know why you hid the pregnancy, too. You’re not the beacon of impossible perfection I once believed, but you’re not evil incarnate either. Your reasons even make sense.”

This should have sounded like a concession. It didn’t.

Pain held her motionless. It hurt to breathe. The way he spoke, it seemed likely she’d never see him again. Over the last bleak months, she’d struggled to accept that outcome, to plan a life encompassing her and her baby. Now that she and Jonas were married, the prospect of parting forever was too devastating. Even when he loathed her.

She stretched out a trembling hand, wanting the connection, but wanting more to ease the fierce loneliness in his eyes. “Then for the sake of our future, our child, won’t you try to make this a real marriage?”

He stared at her hand as he’d stare at an adder baring its fangs. “No.”