Undressed with the Marquess (Lost Lords of London #3) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,30

fighting for their countryside.

He’d never seen a woman as fearless. As undaunted.

She proved as much by at last breaking her silence. “You are wondering why I’m here, and the truth of the matter is, I thought we might talk about your reason for coming here.”

“Which part?”

Temperance angled her head, the movement sending those heavy black tresses falling over her shoulder. She brushed them back, and how he envied her fingers in that instant. “Were there multiple parts?”

“I . . . uh . . . no.” There’d been nothing meaningful about their past, or anything discussed beyond his changed circumstances and his need of her. Which could only mean . . . ? He froze, stopping the question even as it formed on his tongue. For he knew Temperance Grey, knew her pride and her ofttimes contrariness. He cleared his throat and urged her to continue. “If you would?”

“You asked that I return to London and help you, help your sister navigate through her Season.”

She stared at him, indicating something was expected of him. “There were other terms presented by the duke,” he felt inclined to point out. “If I . . . if we . . .” He motioned between them. Her face revealed only confusion. “Provide an heir to the family line?”

“Provide an heir to the family,” she echoed, and then her eyes flew wide, as if she’d just realized what she’d stated aloud. “Good God.”

The way she managed to add four syllables into one, and the abject horror etched in her features . . . stung. He’d never imagined a full future with Temperance. Just because of who he was and what he did, and how her expectations were at odds with all that. But thinking she’d be so reviled at the idea of having his babe . . .

His cheeks heated. “Of course not,” he said on a rush. “It is why I didn’t mention it when I first came to you. I just thought you should know they did present . . . another way,” he finished lamely.

Temperance continued to eye him warily. She played with the reins in one hand, and with the other, she scratched her grey mare between the eyes. “What you presented . . . It was not a real marriage.” Her already brightly colored cheeks turned several shades deeper.

She’d been clear long ago that a “real marriage” was the last thing she wished for with him. “No, that is not what I’d expected.”

“Exactly.” Temperance nodded. “As such, when I considered it in those terms, I was able to see that it could prove mutually beneficial to us.”

“It?” he asked, slow to follow.

“Why . . .” She spread her palms out. “A marriage of convenience, and I know what you are thinking.”

“You couldn’t even begin to imagine,” he drawled.

“There’s never been anything convenient between us . . . or about us, but perhaps this one last thing together can be.”

That was what she was agreeing to—a marriage of convenience? It was far more than he’d ever expected . . . and certainly deserved. Nor was it vastly different from what their actual marriage had begun as. And it was also the safest way between them. He still couldn’t be a husband to her. Not the kind she deserved . . . and would never have because of him. Shoving aside the wave of guilt, he nodded. “I’m listening.”

“I will help you, help your sister, along with the terms of your grandparents’ expectations. But that’s all.” The long column of her throat moved. “Ours will be a business arrangement and nothing more,” she went on, all cool logic that would have impressed him if it hadn’t been their marriage she spoke of.

“Of course,” he said automatically. He’d always known there couldn’t be anything more between them. Not truly. Not again.

“You should be warned; I’ll attend the ton events, and host . . .” She didn’t want to. By the strained corners of her lips, she no more wished to take part in those events than he himself. “But I don’t know anything about them, Dare.”

“We’ll figure it out together, Temperance.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

And mayhap that was one of the reasons he so desperately wanted her there. Why it had to be her. Not just because she was his wife in the eyes of England, but because she was of his world. She knew him. They might be strangers all these years later . . . and she a stranger who didn’t much like him