Which didn’t mean he trusted her ingenuous smile. “I’m telling Pen about our house party.”
Jonas’s eyes sharpened on Sidonie where she sat at the large, masculine desk she’d ordered to replace the useless piece of feminine frippery he’d originally chosen for her sitting room. Sidonie had expressed blatant contempt for its practicality. His wife was closely involved in his activities and took responsibility for running his estates, while he concentrated on trade and manufacturing. He usually counted her as his greatest business asset—but not today.
“I’m sure you are. Is there anything you’d like to tell your husband?”
She rose with the grace that even after two years of marriage set his heart stuttering. “I love you?”
The canny wench knew how to reach him. Until Sidonie’s advent in his life, love had been a rare commodity. Now thanks to this remarkable woman, love was the very air he breathed.
“Are you asking me if you do?”
She stretched up on her toes to brush her lips across his. “Aren’t you sure?”
He stared down into her shining brown eyes and because he couldn’t help himself, bent for a more leisurely kiss. When he raised his head, he was pleased to see that she looked considerably less arch. Instead she regarded him through a dreamy glow.
Sometimes the power of what he felt for Sidonie terrified him. He’d learned young that solitude was the safest option in a world more inclined to cruelty than kindness. Occasions like this reminded him that, inexplicable as it seemed, she loved him, too.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he murmured and caught her upper arms in his big hands. “Even if I want to take you over my knee right now and spank you.”
Her eyes sparkled with mockery—and a trace of excitement. “I might enjoy that.”
“Then I definitely won’t spank you,” he said, tucking the idea away for revisiting later. She retained the power to surprise him, his gorgeous wife. His headstrong, self-willed, meddling wife. His voice firmed, partly to remind himself that he hadn’t come in here to flirt. “You’re out to scupper my plans for a deal with Baildon.”
This time she didn’t bother pretending innocence. “I’m out to achieve a friend’s happiness. That’s much more important than a few pennies in the family coffers.”
Despite his vexation, he couldn’t contain a grunt of laughter. “A few pennies? Those fields in Hampstead promise to make me thousands. Do you want our children to starve, madam?”
It was Sidonie’s turn to look unimpressed. “Doing it too brown, my love. If you never lifted another finger, our children could eat truffled pheasant off gold dishes until they’re ninety.” She paused. “Child, that is. Unless you know something I don’t.”
He’d dearly love to add another occupant to the nursery where his daughter Consuela slept in luxury. His wife distracted him from his point. Deliberately, he knew. “You’ve put Elias Thorne up in Barstowe Hall.”
Barstowe was the Merrick family seat, a rambling Jacobean manor of no particular distinction adjoining Ferney. Jonas had devoted most of his life to getting his hands on this tangible symbol of his inheritance. Once he did, after his marriage, the house had been too full of bitter memories. He and his bride had soon settled into Ferney, the elaborate palace he’d built to undermine his vile cousin’s pretensions to the Hillbrook title. Jonas was currently renovating the ramshackle old place with a view to leasing it.
“How did you know?” Sidonie asked without a trace of apology.
“My love, Barstowe is next door. How did you expect me not to know?” He drew a long-suffering breath. “Mrs. Bevan saw lights last night so I went over after breakfast to check. Imagine my surprise to find Cam’s brother-in-law camping in the south wing.”
“I would have told you,” she said uncomfortably. “But I thought you wouldn’t like it.”
“Damn it, Sidonie, I don’t,” he said with an edge and turned to face out the window. “It was underhanded.”
“I know,” she said quietly from behind him. “And you’re right to be angry.”
“This infernal house party is meant to get Baildon and Desborough on board. Thanks to last year’s antics from Cam and Harry, I’ve had difficulty gaining a hearing.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I’ll ask Elias to leave today.”
He hated that subdued note. “You can’t help matchmaking. In this case, you’re misguided. I have it on good authority that Marianne intends to accept Desborough.”
“Her father’s?” Sidonie’s skepticism was audible.
“Well, yes. They’re suitably matched and she’ll make the perfect political hostess.”
His wife sighed behind him. “Poor Marianne, consigned to marriage with a man almost twice her age, and fated to politeness for the rest of her days.”
Jonas hardened his heart against the regret in his wife’s voice. “She’s been bred for it.”
“She’s not a prize ewe, Jonas.”