Page 8 of Lord Garson's Bride
Her attention dropped to those large, capable hands, hands that would touch her skin, hold her hips as he thrust into her. That odd, nervous feeling spiked and set her stomach churning.
But she felt no distaste.
Just a good dose of curiosity.
Jane was woefully unworldly. She’d never been to London. Heavens, in the past ten years, she hadn’t been past Exeter. But some hitherto unrecognized instinct told her that Hugh Rutherford would prove a skilled lover.
Perhaps this marriage offered more satisfactions than she’d originally counted.
She licked dry lips and made herself meet his eyes. “I’m not…unwilling.”
He smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Hardly the height of enthusiasm. But he offered her his name to solve a practical problem. His emotions weren’t involved.
“If I say yes, how do you see this working?” she asked.
“We’d live at Beardsley Hall and visit London for the season. If you wish, we could travel. Also—”
“No, I mean immediately,” she said, although her heart leaped at the idea of seeing new places, new people after her long exile at Cavell Court. While she was sad to leave her home, she couldn’t deny that it had become something of a prison. She’d welcome a glimpse of the wider world. “Would we have a big wedding in London? I’m only just out of mourning for Papa.”
She caught his quickly hidden dismay at the idea. “If that’s what you’d like.”
Lucky for him, she couldn’t imagine anything worse. Especially as all those curious eyes would compare her to the lovely Morwenna. Not to her advantage. If she accepted this proposal, she’d have to face the fact that not just Hugh, but the entire world would always consider her second best. “What would you like?”
He shrugged as if it hardly mattered. She supposed for him, it didn’t. “If you say yes, as I dearly hope you will, I’ll call on the vicar here and arrange for the banns to be called. I’ll goback to Beardsley and do the same thing up there. On the way, I’ll stop in London and ask Lord Stone to be my best man. I’ll see the lawyers about the settlements at the same time. In a few weeks, I’ll come back here, and we’ll marry in the village church. I assume you’d like to have your neighbors at the ceremony to wish you well. After that, we can go to Beardsley for a few weeks, then to London for the season. Or if you like, we could make a wedding trip to France or Italy. Really, it’s up to you.”
“Italy might be a step too far at first,” she said drily, even as she struggled to come to terms with how her constricted life would expand if she said yes.
Hugh would never love her, and she certainly wasn’t in love with him. But if they married, she’d assume a great lady’s place in the world. It was the role she’d been brought up to fill, and this might be her only chance, now Felix moved into Cavell Court. That alone made Hugh’s proposal tempting.
Hugh continued to study her. “Jane, I can guess how lonely you’ve been these last years.”
She’d never appreciated people’s pity, but perhaps because Hugh had suffered himself, she didn’t prickle up. Her hands spread in an eloquent gesture. “There were times when I felt so alone, I didn’t know how I’d make it through the next day.”
He stretched out his hand toward her. “Then marry me and be my friend, and you won’t be lonely again.”
She stared at his hand without moving to take it. Common sense said that accepting his proposal answered most of her problems. But some deeper instinct warned her that marrying a man who was in love with another woman would inevitably lead to a lifetime of unhappiness.
When she didn’t immediately agree, he looked disappointed. “Do you want to think about it?”
If she thought about it, her fears, fears that might just be cowardice, would make her choose the safe option. “I’m notconvinced that will help,” she admitted shakily. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
A self-derisive smile twisted his lips. “I’ve been planning my proposal for six months, ever since I saw you being so brave at your father’s funeral. Although given my graceless start, you have reason to doubt that.”
It hadn’t been the sort of proposal she’d dreamed of when she was a girl looking forward to a season and suitors and all the pleasures open to a rich young lady entering society. This wouldn’t be the marriage she’d dreamed of then either, with an adoring if unidentified spouse.
But for all that, it seemed to be the marriage she was going to have.
As Hugh had unceremoniously pointed out, her options were limited and unappealing. Marrying him meant she could have children. He’d give her a home to make up for the loss of Cavell Court.
There was no love. But love wasn’t likely to result from her descent into genteel poverty either.
Her heart begged her to reconsider any decision that shut off all possibility of love, but her head knew better. Surely when she had children, there would be love, even if not the love between man and woman. Becoming Lady Garson offered advantages that outweighed her unformed misgivings about how she’d feel in the future.
With surprising steadiness, she stood and stepped across to take his hand. As his fingers closed around hers, heat surged up her arm and stirred an unfamiliar and not unpleasant reaction. Perhaps sharing his bed would turn out to be more than a duty, after all.
She summoned a tremulous smile. “I’ll be very pleased to marry you, Hugh.”
