a reason. It settled him. This was the manner in which he began his day, every day. He would not alter it because he had a wife. Just as he would not alter any part of himself. He was the same man he had always been.
He picked up The Times and resumed reviewing the reports. The Exchange on Paris was on the rise. His attention wandered, and he was briefly distracted about an article concerning an explosion on Her Majesty’s ship Inflexible. Someone was outraged about something Lord Randolph Churchill had said. A case of poisonous cream ices in Lambeth-walk…
He snapped the newspaper closed once more, irritated with himself for his distraction. His wife was calmly consuming her breakfast. She paused when he lowered the paper, her dark eyebrows lifting in question.
“Is something amiss, Mr. Decker?” she asked in her sweet, dulcet voice.
Yes, something is amiss, he wanted to holler. You are intruding upon my life.
But of course she was, wasn’t she? He had married her. She lived here now. She had every right to have expectations of him. Somehow, in all the fantasies he had entertained during the time he had waited to marry her, he had never envisioned anything other than fucking her until he had effectively excised her from his blood. He had not thought about sharing the breakfast table with her or—good God—hosting social events. Would she want to throw balls and dinner parties? Would she expect him to speak to her during breakfast?
“Of course not,” he said smoothly, breaking himself free of his thoughts. He cast a glance toward the servants dancing attendance upon them. “That will be all for now, if you please. I will ring when our meal is complete, thank you.”
He waited for the footmen to depart before turning his full attention to Jo.
“Why the devil do you keep referring to me as Mr. Decker?” he demanded. “Is this some sort of nonsense you insist upon doing before the servants? If so, I can assure you, my domestics are amply recompensed for their service. They do not give a damn if you call me Mr. Decker or Decker or Elijah or Eli or Adam for that matter.”
“Mr. Decker seems like the sort of man who would ignore his new wife in favor of burying his face in The Times,” she returned.
Curse it, he had been correct. She had expectations of him. He ought to have warned her not to waste her time.
Instead, he raised a brow. “Have I displeased you already? That was a remarkably short amount of time.”
In truth, he was unaccustomed to what followed his liaisons. In the past, he had always made it clear to his lovers what they could expect of him: one night of senseless shagging. That was all. Not since Nora had he been so available to a woman in the way he now was with Jo. He had never broken his fast with lovers.
But Jo was not just any lover, was she?
“I thought we might talk,” she said, “that is all. If you are more interested in your newspaper than speaking with me, I shall not force you to suffer.”
That was when he heard it—the underlying note of hurt and disappointment in her voice. Something slid through him, clenching his stomach.
Remorse.
Last night had been profound. They had made love and then napped together. Later, he had shared a bath with her and had made her come once more with his fingers on her pearl beneath the warm, soothing water. They dined in his chamber and fed each other cream ice. They had just made love the once, Decker wanting to give her body time to adjust.
And how did he follow up such day?
By being an arse to her, naturally. All because the lifelong bachelor within him was rebelling at the notion of the power she had over him.
“There is nothing more interesting in this newspaper than you,” he told her, and that was the truth. “I am simply a man of routine. Forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you.” Her gaze searched his. “This is new for you. It is for me as well. We must grow familiar with our change in circumstances together.”
Together.
That was another new word, a new concept.
He wanted to hate it, but he could not muster the sentiment. Instead, all he felt was…hope.
That was it. All the blood had clearly abandoned his brain in favor of rushing to his cock.
He suddenly had an idea of one manner in which they could grow