Page 86 of The Danger of Desire
Utterly empty. The bed hadn’t even been slept in.
That meant he was outwandering, as he’d put it. But where? In his study? Somewhere outside the town house? In the stews?
He’d promised not to dothat,yet the possibility nagged at her. Putting on her wrapper, she headed downstairs in hopes that she might encounter him. Instead, she startled the night footman awake.
“Milady!” He jumped to his feet and rubbed a hand over his features. “I... didn’t expect... that is, his lordship didn’t expect—”
“It’s all right,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep.”
She glanced about the foyer and down the hallway, neither of which she’d seen earlier. Even from here, there appeared to be a great many rooms; this must be quite a spacious town house. “I’m looking for my husband.”
The footman turned crimson. “Of course. Well... that is... his lordship isn’t at home just now.”
She swallowed the jealous retort that came instantly to her lips. “Do you know where he is?”
“I don’t... actually. I came on duty after he’d already left.”
Her throat tightened. “I see.”
With a look of pity, he added, “But I daresay he’s gone to his club. St. George’s. You know. In Piccadilly.”
She nodded absently. “I daresay he has.”
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t warned her that he might spend his evenings at his club. But... on hiswedding night? After bedding his bride?
With her heart sinking, she slowly ascended the stairs and headed back to her bedchamber.Hers.Not theirs.
Did he mean this to be one of those fashionable marriages after all?
She clenched her fists. To hell with it if he did, because he wouldn’t get one from her. A fashionable marriage requiredtwopeople, and she refused to have any part of that. But chiding him over it wouldn’t accomplish much. He didn’t seem to take well to being told how he should behave.
Instead, she would show him that she could be more than just a bed partner—that she could be a good wife to him, an enjoyable companion, and yes, even a friend who could endure his nightmares and whatever else plagued him.
Because becoming important to him for more than just lovemaking might be the only way to secure his heart. And she wanted very much to do just that.
Twenty-One
Warren sat hunched over a cup of coffee in his breakfast room at the ridiculous hour of 11:00 a.m. Normally, he wouldn’t have risen until noon at least, having stumbled into bed at dawn.
But he’d awakened early, unable to sleep for thoughts of his lovely wife lying all alone in the adjoining room. Pining for him. In her flimsy nightdress. With no drawers on.
Damn. Best not to dwell on that just now. Judging from his behavior thus far, she must think him the most randy fellow in all of England. He meant to show her otherwise, now that the night was past.
As if he’d conjured her up, she appeared in the doorway. She was fully dressed, damn it all to hell, in a very respectable blue-striped day gown that covered up far too much of her beautiful body.
Still, it brought out the brilliance of her eyes and rather complemented her figure. All of which he’d thoroughly enjoyed examining last night.
As his cock twitched in his trousers, he stifled a groan. “Ah, you’re awake.”
“Oh, I’ve been awake forhours,” she said cheerily as she entered. “Ever since I heard you fall into bed around six, as a matter of fact.”
Damn, she’dheardhim come in? He’d tried to be quiet.
When she said nothing more, he realized she was waiting for an explanation. But he’d be damned if he’d give her one.
With a slight shadowing of her gaze, she walked over next to him to pour herself a cup of coffee, leaning close enough that he could smell her lemony scent. “Anyway, I figured that since you were abed and couldn’t officially present me to your staff, I would make the introductions myself.” Straightening, she sipped some coffee. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Would it make a difference if I did?” he asked.
