“More wine?”
“Please.”
He refilled her glass, noting her hands were shaking. “Do I really make you that nervous?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She sipped more wine. “Perhaps if we talked for a few minutes before we—” She gestured to the bed.
He tugged her forward and indicated a mahogany chair upholstered in a darker blue with gold filigree on the legs. She sat, and he took the chair opposite. The fire was warm, as now that summer was turning to fall, the evenings had grown chilly. She seemed more at ease now that she was seated, and he thought it was probably the right time to get straight to the point. “I mentioned before I had a few questions.”
“About my past? You should ask them now, of course. Perhaps you should have asked them before the wedding.”
He waved a hand. He wasn’t the sort of man who prized a woman’s virginity above all else. He understood the concept as important only to ensure that a man’s heirs were legitimately his own. “I have only two questions, really,” he said. “The first is whether there is a chance you might be with child. If you are, I’ll acknowledge the child as my own, of course, but I’d rather know the truth of it.”
She gave him a look he couldn’t comprehend then took another sip of her wine. She was drinking more slowly now.
“There is absolutely no chance I am with child,” she said. “It’s been a very long time since I…” She colored. He didn’t want her to flounder, so he nodded and went on.
“And since you were a governess, I feel I should ask if any of the men you worked for took advantage of your position in the household. If so, I’d like the name in case I see the gentleman about Town.” He would make certain to seek the man out, ruin him, then bloody him.
Something of his true intentions must have shown in his face, because she gave him a slight smile.
“I know such things happen, my lord, but I’ve been fortunate enough never to attract that sort of attention. I simply fell in love with a man, and he said he loved me too. Neither of us had money to marry, and eventually our paths diverged.”
Rory didn’t know what he had thought her answer might be, but he hadn’t thought she would say she’d been in love. And he really didn’t anticipate the stab of jealousy he’d feel at hearing she’d been in love with another man. He’d eat hot coals before he let her see that jealousy. The feeling was nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction. He didn’t love her, but she was his wife now. Any man would pause for a moment hearing that his wife had loved another—didlove another?
“Do you still love him?” Rory asked, doing his best to keep his tone level.
She stared at the fire in the hearth, seeming to consider. “In a way,” she finally answered. “I suppose a part of me will always love him. But I don’t love him now. I don’t think of him or wish we could be together.”
Rory still didn’t like it, but she had been honest with him, and he supposed that was all he could ask for.
And now he should probably get on with consummating this marriage. He set his wine glass aside.
“Was there anyone for you besides Frances’s mother?” Genevieve asked.
Rory suddenly wanted his wine glass back again. He’d been in the process of rising, and he did so. But instead of going to Genevieve, he went to the fire and stared at the flickering flames. “She was not my first,” he said, “but we married very young, and there had only been one before her. There were only a handful after.”
“A handful” was a bit of an exaggeration. Though he and Harriet had been estranged, he’d kept his wedding vows.
“I’m aware,” he continued, still staring into the fire, “of the speculation.”
“Speculation?” she echoed.
He glanced at her. “I know what people are saying about my travels on the Continent. But far from what has been whispered, I did not visit every city and sample the best of every brothel. I’ve never once touched a woman in a brothel.”
“I don’t imagine you would ever lack for female companionship,” she said.
He almost laughed. He’d lacked for female companionship for years, virtually all the years of his marriage. “You’d be surprised.”
“I haven’t ceased being surprised since I met you.” She rose. “I suppose I have kept you waiting long enough. If you don’thave any other questions, should we begin?” She gestured to the bed.
Rory felt the heat that had been simmering throughout his body shoot straight to his loins. She reached for the knot of her robe, and his heart clenched and began to pound. She fumbled with the knot for a long moment, and he clenched his fists to keep from ripping the garment off her. He wanted to see what she wore beneath. Was it too much to hope it was nothing?
She finally loosened the knot, but then it seemed there was another to undo. She struggled with that one while Rory tried to catch his breath and slow his heart. The knot came loose, and he waited to see her robe part. But there seemed to be yet another knot. “How many times did you knot it?” he asked.
“A few,” she said, glancing up at him before going back to her task. This knot appeared quite secure, and after a dozen heartbeats, he stepped forward.
“May I be of assistance?” If he didn’t lend a hand, he might spend all night watching her struggle with her robe.
