Page 80 of Temptations of a Wallflower
“You don’t sound the least bit regretful.”
He pulled her close. “My lady wife, I think it’s time we repair to the bedroom so I can show you how little I regret our current happiness.”
Her mouth curved. “Why go so far as the bedroom?” She put her lips to his ear. “Lock the door.”
Jeremy didn’t hesitate.
After locking the door, he returned to Sarah and gathered her against him, determined to chase away his fears with shared pleasure.
Chapter 23
I feared my time with Jacob had changed me completely—not just my body but other parts of my anatomy as well . . .
The Highwayman’s Seduction
Rows of new phaetons gleamed like promises of adventure. They stood side by side in the warehouse, ready to become some wealthy nobleman’s latest toy or folly. Everywhere was the sheen of polished wood and metal, the scent of oil and privilege.
“Ever driven one of these?” Marwood asked Jeremy, standing in front of one soaring, impressive vehicle.
“The Earl of Hutton’s son in one of these frivolous wastes of money?” Jeremy sent his cousin a wry look.
Marwood snorted. “Right. Stupid of me to even suggest such a thing.” He moved on to another model, this one tall as the heavens, and likely just as expensive. “Thank God I never had the same expectations.”
Expectations and threats had brought Jeremy back to London. Though he sometimes enjoyed the bustle and chaos of the city, being here now felt like an imposition. Yet again his father commanded him. Yet againJeremy was forced to comply. It barely mattered if he was only weeks into his new marriage.
Sarah awaited him at his parents’ home. Her expression of concern had followed him out the door as he’d gone to seek his cousin.Family businesshe’d told her, unable to divulge the truth.
“Given that you aren’t much of a phaeton enthusiast,” Marwood drawled, “is there some reason why you asked to accompany me on today’s outing?”
Standing beside Marwood now, Jeremy said, “I’ve run out of options. Ihaveto find the Lady of Dubious Quality, but she’s as elusive as ever.”
“Haveto?” Marwood raised an eyebrow.
“My father’s putting the screws to me,” Jeremy explained. “Find her, or lose my allowance.”
“Surely your bride’s portion is enough for you both,” his cousin noted.
“Would you want Lady Marwood to support you both?” Jeremy looked dubious.
“Point taken,” Marwood said drily. He shook his head. “Bloody damned shame, the lot of it.”
“A situation of which I’m well aware.” Jeremy ran his hand along the leather seat of one phaeton. It was durable, but satiny, and finer than any pair of gloves Jeremy had ever owned or handled. “But I’m at an impasse. She’s kept herself well hidden. I don’t know what other avenues to explore.”
“Her publisher has been closemouthed about it.”
“Why kill the golden goose?”
“Indeed.” Marwood clasped his hands behind his back. “Maybe you’re approaching it from the wrong end.”
Jeremy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You tried to work with her publisher,” his cousin pondered aloud, “which is where the process starts, but perhaps we ought to consider the final product. The finished novels.”
“There might be a clue there,” Jeremy mused. “Someone in London must turn the manuscript into a printed book.”
“Somebody there must know a scrap of information about the author of the books. An inkling of who she might be.”
Jeremy exhaled roughly. “I’ll track down whoever prints the books and see where that takes me. It’s somewhere to start, at the least.”
