Andshewould be its mistress. She shook her head in disbelief.
She gave one last wave, and her brother, John, who’d just arrived the night before from Eton, returned it. Lucia was beside John, but her sister’s eyes were not on the carriage. Rather she was watching Selbourne; he’d already turned away and strode down the path to the stables.
“Oh, Lord,” Francesca murmured. Lucia had been at Selbourne’s side since setting eyes on him this morning—an instant infatuation. A harmless one as well, Francesca had decided, since she knew enough of Ethan and his brother to trust that Alex would never take advantage of a mere girl.
Still Francesca had warned her sister not to set her sights on Lord Selbourne. His reputation was appalling—worse than Ethan’s.
But Lucia hadn’t seemed to register the advice. As soon as Francesca had said his name, Lucia had gazed wistfully at Selbourne. “Isn’t he just the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?”
Francesca waved until she couldn’t see her family anymore, and then she stared out the window, trying to commit everything to memory—the little thatched cottages, the rise and fall of the road, the brooks and streams and quaint bridges. She looked long and hard until she no longer recognized the landscape and then she sat back in her seat and looked at Ethan.
Her husband.
His brows rose in question when she looked away from the window. “See anything new?”
“No. I don’t want to forget any of it.”
“I know.”
And she believed he did. He’d always seemed to understand her love of Tanglewilde and the Hampshire countryside. She would miss it so much.
Her wistful feelings must have shown on her face.
“We’ll come back to visit, and you’ll like Yorkshire.” His voice was confident, reassuring. “The landscape is much wilder than what you’re used to, far less tame.” He grinned. “It will definitely suit you.”
Yorkshire—her new home with her new husband. Though she would miss Hampshire, she would have gone to the ends of the world with Ethan.
She squared her shoulders. “I’m not wild or untamed. I think you’ll find soon enough how terribly ordinary I am.”
Her voice was light as she spoke, but deep down the prospect did worry her. How could she—plain, unsophisticated Francesca Dashing—ever hope to keep the interest of a man like the Marquess of Winterbourne, even if he was her husband? As much as she wanted it to be, their marriage wasn’t a true marriage. Not yet. It would only be a true marriage when Ethan trusted her and opened his heart to her. She had to make him fall in love with her...somehow.
Ethan leaned forward and took her hands. “You’re anything but ordinary,cara. You surprise me every day.”
Astonished, she sputtered, “I do?”
“Part of the reason I wanted to marry you.” He winked. “Keep my life interesting.” He pulled her forward until she was on the edge of her seat, and then he cupped her face and kissed her. The kiss deepened, and she felt his arms come around her, urging her into his lap. She reached for him and heard a sharp yip. When she didn’t respond, Lino yapped again and jumped on her legs. A moment later, he stuck his wet nose between them and began licking their chins.
Ethan swore, breaking the kiss, but Francesca laughed and gave Lino an affectionate pat on the head. “Poor baby. I think he wants some attention.”
“I know the feeling,” Ethan mumbled, sitting back once more.
Francesca scratched Lino behind the ears, under the chin, and rubbed his tummy until the puppy was content and sleeping on the cushion beside her. Then she glanced back at Ethan. He brooded, sitting far back in his seat, arms crossed, and a frown on his face. She still found him irresistibly handsome.
“We’re actually married,” she said, ignoring his bad mood because, since she’d gotten her way and convinced him to allow her to bring Lino and most of her other babies with them, she could afford to be magnanimous.
“I believe that was the purpose of the ceremony this morning,” he grumbled.
Francesca thought back to the simple wedding. She had never been so happy. She felt safe and warm with Ethan beside her, his steady voice confident as he’d
said his vows. He’d pledged to keep and protect her, love and cherish her until death. She wondered if he took his vows as seriously as she took hers.
Since their conversation in the library the morning before, she felt closer to him. He’d finally told her the truth about Victoria and the terrible tragedy that had befallen his sister—even hinting about his involvement with the Foreign Office, though not elaborating, of course. She understood his wariness and distrust better now. It was obvious Ethan didn’t trust people because he was afraid of being hurt again.
Not that he would ever admit to being afraid, but in her mind that was the crux of the matter. Fear and a sense of self-protection. And those were two emotions she could understand very well. Hadn’t they played a part in her own reluctance to reveal her abuse at Roxbury’s hands?
He needed her as much as she needed him, and he had said he wanted to trust her. If only he would allow her into his heart. If only he could love her...
She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the grueling past few days pressing down on her. She couldn’t make him love her or trust her. But she would try.
