Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,78
how could she be happy when she came like a beggar to this marriage of theirs? A marriage forced on him because she’d been foolish enough to fall for his charms.
In a bargain both people gained something. What did he have to gain except in his bed? That he could get anywhere.
It must be the child he cared about. A child would bring them together. Happiness curled around her heart.
A hot lump rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed hard and smiled at him. ‘Thank you so much. I’ll call for a footman to have them taken upstairs.’ Oh, dash it all, did her voice have to sound quite so damp? He would think her a watering pot.
‘There is one more thing,’ he said with a smile. ‘The chest and the writing desk will arrive tomorrow as promised.’
‘So soon?’ Her smile widened. ‘How wonderful.’
‘You are very welcome.’ He looked pleased. ‘There is one last thing I must do today. I need the information about this moneylender for my man of business. I will have him take care of the matter right away.’ He went to the writing desk and set forth paper, pens and ink. ‘Write down his direction, along with that of your sisters.’
She hurried to comply, grateful he was acting so speedily. She quickly wrote down the required information and handed it to him. She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. ‘This means everything to me.’
He captured her hand. ‘I will be back in time for dinner.’
He kissed her hand and the traitorous warmth rushed up from her belly. The desire for his touch.
She saw the answering warmth in the depth of his dark gaze.
At least they had this in common. It might not be perfect, but it was something they shared.
She would have to be very careful not to let him see her emotions went deeper. She had the sense he preferred to keep everything light and easy. And if she didn’t do the same, he would become bored and find other interests; he had as good as said so.
The thought made her feel simply dreadful.
When Garth returned home for dinner, Rosa did not object when he suggested they have dinner in his chamber. No, their chamber.
Hand in hand they left the drawing room, where they had partaken of sherry together, and climbed the stairs. He opened the door and stood back for her to enter.
A small oblong table set for two sat in front of a sofa. Apparently they were to eat side by side. Candles flickered, silver glittered and crystal sparkled. The room looked positively…romantic. There was even a lovely yellow rose gracing a vase in the middle of the table.
Her anxiety of earlier in the day reduced to a faint unease only to be expected in these early days, she supposed. And although she wasn’t yet married and she’d already experienced the delights of the marriage bed, she did feel a little like a new bride. Being a wife would be very different to being a mistress. A mistress could walk away.
From what Penelope had said, Rosa guessed that Garth disposed of his mistresses long before they were ready to leave. And he’d made it quite plain he did not intend to change his ways. Then why was he going to all this trouble to woo her?
At the back of her mind, something, some nagging little thing she could not quite grasp, kept making its presence known. A little whisper of disquiet. A feeling there was something she had yet to learn.
Why, when he’d been nothing but brutally honest about his lack of emotion?
He helped her to sit, rang the bell and sat beside her. The butler and two footmen carried in a series of trays, which they proceeded to set before them. The butler filled their wineglasses from a decanter, which he left on the table at Garth’s elbow. It was all done with such smoothness, Rosa had the distinct impression this was not the first time they had served dinner this way.
Not something she should be thinking about.
‘Will there be anything else, my lord?’
‘No, thank you. We will not need you again this evening.’
The man bowed and withdrew, closing the door softly behind him.
Garth lifted his glass. ‘To my future bride.’
She picked up hers. ‘To my husband-to-be.’
Before she could drink, he held his glass to her lips. And when she had taken a sip, he drank from the same spot on the glass, his dark gaze all the while