The Marquess Tames His Bride

‘And second?’

One side of his mouth hitched up in amusement. ‘Second, my pedantic little bride, if you are so intent on glossing over the most basic reason any man marries any woman, you do not need to learn how to be a marchioness. You are one already, by virtue of marrying me. And you will find that there are no rules to govern the behaviour of such a high-ranking lady. You may behave however you wish and nobody will dare criticise you. Not,’ he added more seriously, ‘that I fear you are ever likely to do anything that might give anyone cause to criticise you, let alone bring disgrace to my family name.’

She was just starting to glow with pleasure at his praise when he ruined it all by adding, ‘You are far too pious.’

How could he manage to make what ought to have felt like a compliment sound like a criticism just by injecting a certain tone to his voice?

‘But—’

He stopped her next protest by the simple expedient of leaning in and kissing her again. And though she strove to hold on to her annoyance she found it impossible to do anything but melt.

‘Perhaps it is too soon for you to face the tabbies,’ he said, smoothing her hair back from her face once he’d reduced her to a pliant puddle. ‘Perhaps it would be easier for you if you were more at ease with me. With your new station.’

‘Oh.’ Goodness, sometimes he could be so…understanding.

When he wasn’t being infuriating, that was.

And since he was clearly trying very hard, by his standards, she couldn’t very well do anything but meet him halfway.

‘Well, yes,’ she therefore admitted. ‘It has all been rather sudden. One minute I was all set to start a new life as a companion to an elderly invalid and the next…’

‘We shall go away for a while. Get right away from London and spend some time getting to know each other, as husband and wife. Once you have gained more confidence, I have no doubt that you will excel in your role.’

‘Really? You really mean that?’

‘Yes.’ He frowned. ‘I must warn you, however, that I will not be able to relinquish all my duties. I have been…out of touch for some time and there are some matters which need urgent attention.’

‘I would never expect you to dance attendance on me. I know you are a very important man, with a great many calls upon your time.’

‘You see? You are proving to be an excellent marchioness already.’

This time, there was no sting to the compliment that she could discern. Apart from the message that she would only be a rather small part of his life. Which was all any woman he married could hope for.

She lay back and watched him through her lashes as he retrieved his dressing gown and knotted the belt loosely round his waist.

She might only be able to inhabit a very small corner of his life, but by heaven she would fill that place to the very best of her ability. He would never have cause to complain about her behaviour, or her appearance, or…she glanced guiltily at the broken breakfast dishes littering the rug…anything.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘You look very well in that outfit,’ said Lord Rawcliffe as he handed Clare into his travelling carriage. Actually, she looked utterly divine in her new carriage dress. She’d always managed to make the best of what came to hand. But now she had access to almost limitless funds he wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she soon became a leader of fashion.

Clare blushed as she took her seat. Then surreptitiously smiled down at her fine leather gloves.

‘You have outdone Lady Harriet already,’ he added as he took the facing seat.

‘Oh?’ Clare looked puzzled. Suspicious. As though she expected him to say something unkind now, to rob her of her pleasure in his compliment. ‘In what way?’

‘Until her husband took her in hand, Lady Harriet had no idea what suited her and went about in some extremely unflattering outfits.’ Which was one of the reasons he’d hired an extremely experienced dresser to oversee Clare’s purchases. Lord Becconsall might not care what people said about his wife behind her back, but he was not going to leave Clare exposed to the same kind of gossip.

‘Yes, I know, she told me as much,’ said Clare, with a little sniff. ‘I suspect,’ she added sadly, ‘that is why she was so keen to let me have so many of her old gowns.’