Page 30 of Lord Garson's Bride
Ah, at last his moment arrived. “That’s not true. What you need is time to get to know me, as a husband, not a friend. In short, Jane, I aim to give you a proper courtship.”
Chapter Eleven
“But we’re married.” Baffled, Jane frowned. “Courtship after the fact seems redundant.”
Why in heaven’s name was she raising any objections? Hugh suggested a delay in marital relations. Last night, this would have felt like rescue. Today, perhaps not so much.
The hint of tenderness in his smile set her wayward heart wobbling. “We’ve done everything else in a topsy-turvy fashion, so why not this as well? You need to get used to being my wife.”
She sank into an armchair near the fire. “A reprieve?”
When he sighed, she realized she’d been less than tactful. Again.
“If you like.” Hugh returned to the chair where he’d sat reading the paper. “The decision about what happens next is yours. I’ll only come to your bed when you ask me.”
“What on earth…” Surprise made her stutter. While she should like the sound of this arrangement, she wasn’t sure that she did. “But my fears might grow.”
He leaned forward and linked his hands between his knees. “I hope they won’t.”
“It will be like waiting for an ax to fall.”
“For me or for you?”
“For me.”
To her surprise, he burst out laughing. “Don’t mind my feelings.”
She shot him an unimpressed glance. “You know what I mean.”
“Unfortunately I do.” His humor faded, and he sat back, gaze unwavering. “Which makes the rest of what I want to say even more important.”
“Oh?” she asked suspiciously.
His lips twisted. “This won’t be any common courtship.”
“Given I’m your wife, it could hardly be that.” She spread her hands. “You’ve already read the last chapter of this book, Hugh. The hero and heroine get together at the end.”
The gleam in his eyes stirred an echo of last night’s wanton feelings. “But how do they get together? I’m hoping for a blissful happy ever after.”
Not likely when he loved someone else. She surged to her feet, a protest rising to her lips. Then she reminded herself how accommodating he was being, given he’d spent his wedding night alone in the dressing room.
“How do we manage that?” Jane only just stopped herself from finishing that question with “impossible goal.” She had to give Hugh points for trying, when every rule of law and custom said he didn’t have to.
He folded his arms. “I want to teach you to enjoy my touch.”
A shiver ran through her, not entirely dread. “Oh?”
His eyebrows arched at her instinctive withdrawal, but he went on as though they discussed some mundane subject. A walk in the gardens, or cards after dinner. “If you know that I won’t take things to their end, you may learn to appreciate the preliminaries.”
She doubted it. Oh, not that she would enjoy his touch. She’d enjoy it far too much. But that he could lull her into a state where her fears disappeared and she tumbled into his arms as easilyas a ripe apple fell from a tree. Last night’s experience indicated otherwise.
“What about kisses?”
“Ah,” he said slowly. “Kisses are different.”
She stepped closer to the fire, although she wasn’t cold. “I suppose you want to kiss me whenever the fancy takes you.”
“I’d like that.” When she struggled to hide her dismay, a knowing smile curled his lips. “But I’ll ration myself to one a day.”
