Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

"Yes, it was lovely to see Lady Harrington," Grace said, a sincere smile flitting across her face, before wariness edged into her expression again. She peeked up at him through her lashes, watching him.

It was something he'd seen a lot from her, both when he'd first started courting her, and since he'd demanded a reconciliation. As if she was watching him, waiting to see what he would do, and hiding herself from him until she was sure he wasn't a threat. Alex was fairly certain the tactic came from when she lived in her father's household.

As if making some kind of decision, her chin lifted a bit. "She and my mother are very good friends, you know."

"Yes, I remember," he replied, smiling as he looked down at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a passerby gawking at them. Possibly because they'd both been recognized together, or possibly because he'd been recognized and been seen smiling.

The smile worked on Grace. She seemed to relax and started to tell him about Lady Harrington's recent charitable activities around Bath, Eleanor and Edwin's intention to stay at the Manse for the foreseeable future, and everything else that she'd talked about with them. Alex was content to let her talk, occasionally adding his own observations or thoughts, and just enjoy walking beside his wife while she actually conversed with him. They were the very picture of matrimonial harmony. He just hoped they could become more than the picture.

******

By dinnertime, Grace was starting to feel hunted.

At first she'd enjoyed Alex's efforts to spend time with her after the wedding. They'd walked and talked, and it had been almost like old times. He'd listened quite attentively and never seemed to become bored or annoyed with her chatter, although she'd focused on the most mundane and trivial of topics. She'd been quite careful to avoid any conversation that could lead to the more serious issues between them.

When they'd returned home, she'd expected him to go to his study, which he had, but he'd joined her in the library after barely an hour when she'd thought she wouldn't see him again till dinnertime. At first it had been uncomfortable to have him sitting so closely to her, on the same couch, even if he was concentrating on his own book. After a bit, he'd asked what she was reading, and she'd been almost relieved to tell him about the silly Gothic romance she'd been pretending to read.

Pretending, because once he'd sat down, she'd barely been able to concentrate on the book. She'd turned pages, but only because she hadn't wanted him to know how distracted he made her. With his presence crowding the couch, his body heat so close to hers, she'd become rather tense, waiting for whatever he was going to do. Wondering if he would try to seduce her again. Kiss her. Or even touch her at all.

When he'd kept to his side of the couch, the tension had spooled about her unbearably, tightening with every pa

ssing minute. She'd started to wonder if she wanted his attention. If she wanted him to try and seduce her. His query about her reading material had allowed her to put the book down and stop pretending.

Strangely, he seemed almost interested in the ridiculous plot. Grace enjoyed her Gothic romances because of their darkness, their silliness... but she certainly hadn't expected to witness her husband chuckling at her villainous description of the Mad Baron and his evil plans. She'd almost jumped out of her seat when Alex had laid his arm out on the couch back behind her, leaning forward to inspect the cover of the book. Her heart had leapt up into her throat, fluttering madly, as he invaded her space.

Heat flushed her cheeks.

It wasn't that her reaction was new - it certainly wasn't - but it seemed to have intensified since last night. When she'd let him, begged him, to make love to her. At the wedding and the brunch, they'd been far enough apart that she could retain her peace of mind.

Now, alone in their house, it was all she could think about.

"I'm feeling a bit warm," she'd said, hastily getting to her feet. "I think I'll take a stroll in the garden."

Alex had studied her face as he stood, taking the book from her hands and placing it down on the couch. "I'll join you."

Once in the garden, she hadn't been able to think of anything to talk about, so she'd questioned him more about the estates. He'd talked to her of them on the carriage ride to Bath, but she hadn't been quite in the mood to listen at the time.

Listening to his enthusiasm about the estates, she was again reminded of the Alex that she'd married. He didn't just tell her about his plans or what was happening, but also what he hoped to achieve in the future, what he would like her to look into... the small things that indicated he saw her as a wife and partner and not just a figurehead. Not the way her mother had been part of the pretty family picture her father had painted, the way he'd expected Grace and her sisters to become similar pictures. She wondered if, once he heard that she and Alex had reconciled, she might be able to see her mother and sisters again. They'd all adhered to his edict of silence when it came to her, which she didn't blame them for. Besides, it meant she hadn't had to listen to pressure or guilt from them about her behavior; equally it meant that her scandalous behavior hadn't reflected upon her sisters once they'd begun looking for husbands. It was well known she was the black sheep of her family and that they'd cut her off.

Still... it would be nice to be able to attend the same events without worrying that her own family members would cut her.

"I'd like you to ride out among the farms with me," Alex told her, his eagerness growing as they talked about his estates. "I want you to talk to the women about the possibility of a school in the area."

That had especially appealed to Grace. She wondered if Alex had somehow discovered the donations she made for the education of children in London. They'd all been made discreetly and anonymously, because she'd known her name would actually hinder rather than help any of the causes she'd backed, but she supposed it was still possible. Grace wasn't a bluestocking, but she'd always found an escape from life in books, and she wanted to make that possible for all children in unfortunate situations. She was lucky that she'd been taught to read. Lucky that she'd been born a Duke's daughter, even if sometimes she'd chafed at the restrictions such a position came with.

That had led to a much longer conversation than she'd anticipated about what Alex hoped to do with schools, or at least a traveling teacher, for the children on his lands. The time flew by, until she realized she needed to dress for dinner. It was her first break from Alex all afternoon, and she'd been a bit relieved by it.

Being constantly in his presence had unnerved her. Weakened defenses that were already crumbling. She didn't even know why she bothered to try and shore up the walls around her heart, except that she still couldn't bring herself to fully trust him. The last time she'd had hope for her future with him, he'd ended up crushing her. It was making her far more wary this time around.

Especially because, during dinner, he kept trying to slide the conversation around to the very things she didn't want to talk about. It became a verbal game of cat and mouse. He would begin alluding to things like marriage or communication, their friends' marriages, their separation, and Grace would immediately slide the conversation back to something innocuous. It was not relaxing dinner conversation and her tension was beginning to rise again.

Alex tolerated Grace's evasions because of the servants that were in and out of the room, serving them dinner. Although he trusted his people to be discreet, there was no way to completely stymy gossip. Especially if the Lord and Lady of the house aired their issues too loudly and too openly in front of the staff. It was human nature to talk.

He'd hoped to at least begin to broach the subject, to ready her, because he was determined that they have an in depth conversation following dinner, but he could tell that he was causing her quite a bit of anxiety. It couldn't be helped. The lack of communication between them was frustrating him. There were too many questions going unanswered.

Why did she call him a liar?

Why did she speak and behave as if he'd never cared for her?