Page 67 of The Danger of Desire
She looked distant, contemplative. “He must have felt very desperate for funds to have changed his mind about that. To have resorted to gambling in London.” She gazed up at Warren. “I didn’t resent his doing that, you know. Papa had always settled financial matters that way, too. It’s just that, well... Reynold never did. If he’d told me what he planned, I would have understood. I wouldn’t have approved, but...”
Her voice caught, and Warren tugged her close, wanting to comfort her somehow.
With a shaky breath, she accepted his embrace. “It’s just that Reynoldliedabout it, to me and to Brilliana. He waltzed off to London for a couple of weeks and threw everything away on a card game without a word to us about his plans. In the end, he turned out to be as irresponsible, feckless, and utterly unconcerned about how his actions affected us as Papa.”
“In light of all that, I see how you find it hard to trust men—especially given that you’ve routinely seen the worst side of them in the stews.” Warren gazed down into her eyes. “But I’m not just any gentleman. Have I ever lied to you, ever told you anything but the God’s honest truth?”
A frown creasing her brow, she ducked her head. “Not that I know of.”
The faintly distrustful words pierced him. “I’ve behaved honorably toward you, Delia Trevor, or you wouldn’t be marrying me now. Your instincts are telling you I can be trusted. You should listen to them.”
“Very well.” With a hard swallow, she drew away from him. “As long as we’re talking about trust, I have something to ask you, and I need you to answer me honestly. Your answer won’t change my decision to marry you. It will merely help me know what to expect.”
Bloody hell. He dearly hoped she wasn’t going to ask about the nightmares again. Because what would he say? That he periodically turned into a sniveling coward in the dark? That the man standing here offering to solve all her problems couldn’t even stop his own night terrors?
But if he wanted her to trust him... “Ask whatever you wish.”
She released a nervous sigh. “Do you... intend to be faithful to me after we marry?”
For a moment, he could only gape at her.Thatwas what she wanted to know?
Good God, what an idiot he was. Ofcourseshe was concerned about that, given his reputation and the hastiness of this marriage.
“I mean,” she went on quickly, as if fearing to hear his answer, “before you were forced to change your plans, you often said you had no intention of settling down with one woman anytime soon. And I’ve heard that men of your rank tend to have, well, fashionable marriages. Where the husband and wife do as they please.”
He tamped down the sudden irrational anger that seized him. “Is that what you want?”
“No! I would prefer something more...”
“Unfashionable.”
She brightened. “Exactly.” Then her face fell again. “But if that’s not whatyouwant... if you intend to go on as you have been, I will... attempt to look the other way. As long as you’re honest about it, I will attempt to be a dutiful wife.”
The worddutifulscraped him raw. “You really think you could do that.” Sarcasm crept into his voice. “You could just blithely go on about your daily activities while I screw anything in skirts.”
The blunt words made her blink. “I suppose I could...try—”
“Don’t you dare!” He strode up to her, his temper flaring even higher. “I don’t want a ‘dutiful wife,’ whatever the hell that is. I wantyou, the intrepid and impudent Delia Trevor. And I can tell you right now that I bloody well won’t ‘look the other way’ ifyougo hunting for some other man in your bed. So you can put that thought right out of your mind.”
God, had he spoken those jealous and possessive words aloud? Apparently, he had.
And given the sudden softening in her features, she was taking them exactly the way they sounded. Damn it all. He’d better repair the damage. “That does not, however, mean I’ll stay home every night dancing attendance on you. I’ll continue to go to my club and—”
“The stews?” She fixed him with eyes gone as still as lake waters.
“No.” He’d simply have to find another way to make it through the dark hours. Despite her brief sojourn gambling all night at Dickson’s, she wouldn’t want to stay awake until dawn for the rest of her life, especially in the country. “I think I can safely promise never again to spend my nights in the stews.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she whispered.
As she turned to climb the next flight of stairs, he followed her, anger boiling in his belly. “Do you still trust me so little? You said you’d be a ‘dutiful wife’ if I continued my bachelor ways. So why would I lie and claim that I won’t, when you’ve already given me carte blanche to do as I please?”
“I’m not saying you’re lying. You may truly believe now that you can promise it. But once you and I... Once you realize that I know so little of how to... to please a man—”
“Is that what this is about?” Relief banished his anger. “You’re worried about your ability in bed?”
She halted ahead of him on the stairs. “In truth, I’m terrified about our wedding night.”
The wordterrifiedreminded him painfully of what Clarissa had gone through before her marriage. Perhaps he’d better clarify what she meant. “Of sharing a bed with me? Or of not doing it well?”
