When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal #4) - Stacy Reid Page 0,40

a farewell curtsy. Yet she threw a very unladylike wave at Caroline before walking away. In silence, he guided her down the prodigious hallway and to the second stairs that curved toward the west wing. She hesitated briefly before following his wave, her gloved hands clasped tightly before her, her bare feet padding noiselessly on the thick carpeted floor.

Once at the landing, he placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her to her rooms. He opened the door and stepped back, allowing her to precede him inside. Once over the threshold, she gasped. “Why, it’s lovely!”

Her chambers consisted of a spacious and elegantly decorated bedchamber and two adjoining rooms, where one would serve as a dressing room and the other a sitting room. Rose-silk curtains surrounded the bed, at which she stole a quick discreet glance before returning her regard to him. Hugh withdrew a note from his pockets.

She reached for it and unfolded the paper, which read, “This is the Countess’s chamber…and the connecting door leads to my chamber.”

For a moment, she could not meet his eyes, and a wave of red blossomed over her face and throat. “I see. Thank you.”

They stood in awkward silence with her clutching the note as if it were a lifeline. He hadn’t thought to prepare another note informing her that she need not fear his advances. He was a patient man, and he did not marry her to satiate his baser urges even if they were stirring to life with the violence of a winter storm. He had learned over the years to master his emotions and expectations and in this situation, he could do the same.

As far as Hugh was concerned, they did not need to share the same bed until he was ready for his heir. His only priority now was to see about getting his sister and brother settled, one through marriage and the other with a respectable position and a marriage. A thing they both ardently wanted but believed, because of their bastardy and unique situation, such a living and contentment would be forever denied to them. Rubbish, of course. And certainly not if Hugh had anything to do about it.

Unable to express any of this, he sketched a quick bow and turned around.

“You are leaving?”

How astonished she sounded…and relieved. Hugh faced her and nodded once.

Her gaze searched his face intently as if she tried to discern his thoughts. Unexpectedly, her eyes brightened, and a soft smile appeared on her lush lips. She made her way over to him, lifted her hands, and cupped his cheek in a caress that felt as gentle as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. “Thank you for your consideration,” she murmured a bit huskily. “I am very much obliged to you, and I shall never forget your kindness, my lord.”

Her action shocked Hugh into profound stillness and sent his thoughts spinning. It had been years since anyone had touched him in such a manner…and the last person he could recall cupping his cheeks had been his mother. The awareness pulled a flinch from him, and a delicate pink stain spread from Phoebe’s cheeks down her throat. She hurriedly dropped her hand and stepped back.

Swallowing tightly past the knot in his throat, he bowed and withdrew from the room.

Once in the hallway, a silent breath shuddered from him. What had that been about? He walked away, and some instinct urged him to look back, so he did. She stood in the shadows of the doorway, watching his retreat with her large golden eyes. She lifted her hand in a small wave, and Hugh felt like an idiot when he paused, lifted a hand, and waved back.

But she smiled, and it was quite the loveliest smile, which revealed a deep dimple in one of her cheeks. His heart did this ridiculous squeeze, and with a scowl he turned around and made his way down the stairs to his private study.

…

Indifferent civility.

Phoebe had been married to the viscount for two weeks, and whenever she encountered him, he treated her with kind consideration and a dreadful indifferent civility. The very first morning after their wedding, she had woken to a note on the small table by her bedside. Even several days later, the words and the implications were still seared in her thoughts.

You are under no obligation to prepare to attend me in my chambers in the evenings, nor will I visit yours. We are newly married, but we are also strangers,