Page 43 of A Gentleman's Wife

“Marianne,” he whispered. His voice had her in a trance, an inexplicable draw pulling her toward him, making her lean in, and hoping this moment would not end.

“There you are!”

The muscle in Thomas’s jaw worked again, and he took a deep breath before stepping back and turning.

“Good evening, Grandfather.”

The elder Mr. Ramsbury appeared with a glass in his hand that did not contain the punch that was being served.

“Have you had too much to drink, Grandfather?” Thomas asked him.

“Oh, tush. I know where all the best caches are in this old house.” The old man waved his hand, spilling a few drops of his drink. “And I’ve spent a better portion of this night trying to get ahold of you, but you’re always busy talking with one person or the other.”

“Fulfilling our duties as hosts,” Thomas said.

“And doing a marvelous job. Marvelous job, my dear,” Grandfather said to her in a loud voice. “But if this girl is to be your wife, I need to know her as well. If she is to wear your grandmother’s pearls and be mistress of this estate, how can I remain in the dark?”

“What would you like to know, sir?” Marianne asked, trying to be accommodating despite his drunken nature.

He turned his wrinkled eyes to her. “I’ve heard complaints that you are not dancing this evening. Are you indisposed? Is your health an impediment? Or do you need to be in confinement?”

“Grandfather, you shouldn’t speak so.”

But Thomas’s reprimand was waved away. “I will speak as I wish. If she is with child, then the ball never should have taken place.”

“She is not with child.” Thomas’s voice was low and stern.

“And what would you know of such things? Has she been examined?”

Thomas gave Marianne a desperate glance, and she froze, realizing his intention.

“We have not…”

Face flushing hot, Marianne turned away in humiliation.

“You’ve not taken her to your bed?” Grandfather seemed to have the decency to lower his voice this once, but then his volume returned. “And why the devil not? You’ve been married for months already. Take her upstairs now and get on with it. I’m not going to live forever, you know, and I’d like to see my family line settled. Get the heir taken care of, post haste.”

“Mr. Ramsbury.”

The bellowing sound of the duke’s voice silenced the conversation in the corner of the room. When Marianne looked over her shoulder, the duke had appeared with his wife, the Godwin’s close behind.

Grandfather looked up and seemed shocked by his presence. “Ah, Your Grace, good evening.”

“Would you do me the honor of pointing me in the direction of the coffee? I think it would do the both of us some good.”

If Grandfather caught the direct message, he did not show it. “Of course, Your Grace. If you’ll follow me.”

Marianne watched gratefully as the duke followed the old man away before looking over his shoulder and giving a knowing nod.

Then pressing a hand to her hot cheek, Marianne turned to the duchess with a forced smile. “How are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, wishing for anything to change the subject of conversation.

“Better now,” she responded, coming to stand by Marianne. “I think I have one more dance claimed for the evening.”

“Yes, there are still a few sets left before the night is through,” Marianne said, though internally lamenting the fact.

She dared a glance at Thomas, who was still nearby, but talking with Mr. Godwin. She couldn’t meet his gaze or know what he was thinking, but she desperately needed to know. Was he angry or disappointed with her in taking her time on the matter, that it had resulted in this humiliating outcome? Would he hate her if she delayed even further? For now, she feared she knew him too well, and once she fully shared herself with him, her heart would no longer be her own. Could she survive in a marriage where she longed for his love but never fully received it?

“I think I’m ready for bed as it is,” Emma said with a tired smile. “Some of the best sleep I’ve ever had was after a ball. You’ll no doubt be refreshed as a lamb tomorrow.”

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