documents. The first was a letter from Alpina. “Dear brother,” he read aloud, but then stopped and scanned his sister’s words silently. She was ill, she wanted his affairs in order before she died, she had chosen a young woman who was everything he could hope for in a countess…“Fondly, Alpina.”
He glanced through the marriage contract. A proxy marriage. Who would have thought such things existed in this day and age? He would have assumed both parties would be required to approve or at least know of the alliance before the marriage could take place, but since the contract was signed by both the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Archbishop of York—with the High Lord Chamberlain’s official seal for additional measure—he inferred his opinion had not mattered.
He had to admire Alpina. She was thorough.
Rolling the documents into a tube, he announced to the proud woman waiting anxiously beside him, “This is absolute nonsense.”
“Your sister is very sincere.”
“My sister is always sincere. It doesn’t mean she is right.”
He expected her to fire back justification of some sort, but instead she asked, “Is it really true you were a scholar at All Souls College?”
The change of subject caught him off guard. Then, he understood. “You have trouble believing it?” Grinning, he rubbed the blue paint on his face to emphasize the point.
She lifted a critical brow. “Your scholar status would be more believable if you wore a touch more clothing.”
Aidan enjoyed her discomfort. “You sound like a wife already.”
His barb brought the blood rushing to her face. “That was not my intent. I was merely…curious.” She averted her eyes, suddenly interested in a piece of splintered wood beside her. “However, I believe I should tell you now that in spite of the unusual circumstances of our marriage—”
“Marriage?” Aidan laughed. “Anne, my darling lass, you must forgive me if I don’t feel wed.”
She stiffened, her gaze still intent on the splinter. “The clergy performing the rite in London suggested we have another ceremony here in Scotland after our marriage has been, well, you know,” she finished, suddenly shy.
He leaned toward her shell-shaped ear. “No, I don’t know. Explain.”
Her head snapped round. Her nose almost touched his, her fine gray eyes opened in surprise. Then they narrowed in suspicion. “You know exactly what I am trying to tell you.”
“Do I?” Aidan stretched out on the coach, propping himself up on one elbow and smiled at her. “I’m not certain. You aren’t being exactly clear. Do you care to enlighten me?”
Her lips twitched as she bit back a sharp retort. She knew he was toying with her. A lesser woman would have pouted or thrown a tantrum, but Anne apparently had determination and spirit. Two qualities he admired. It was almost a shame he would be sending her back to London on the morrow.
Bravely, in spite of blushing furiously, she said, “I am talking about the consummation of our union. I have agreed to be a wife to you in every way. I will do whatever you ask of me—” She paused, as if abruptly realizing her own boldness. “Whatever you ask,” she forced herself to repeat, lowering her head, the gesture feminine and submissive.
Suddenly, Aidan wasn’t so cocky. In fact, he was intrigued. Sexually intrigued.
Dear Lord, she was obviously a virgin. Alpina wouldn’t have sent him anything else, and Aidan had to sit upright lest Anne noticed he was fully aroused.
Darkness was close. Twilight shadows stretched around them. He didn’t know where Hugh and Deacon had gone off to, and he didn’t care. For a moment, he could imagine the two of them alone in the world.
Aidan Black and a London debutante—and not even one who was cream of the crop. Aidan had spent his time in the drawing rooms and ballrooms of the ton. He knew someone like Anne must have been desperate for a husband, else she wouldn’t have accepted such a bargain as Alpina had offered. There had to be something wrong with her, although he’d be hard pressed to see what it was.
Still, it pricked his male pride.
Years ago, he’d been a tongue-tied, awkward scholar pushed into Society by Alpina to search for a bride. Fresh from school and a life lost in books, he’d no idea of how to go about wooing a woman, especially the lovely young debutantes paraded before him, dewy and fresh, and well aware of their own self-worth.
They’d made fun of his awkwardness. He’d overheard a group of them mocking him at a garden party