Page 15 of The Lyon Whisperer
Impatient little thing, wasn’t she? He arched his brows in a challenging manner that made grown men quake in their army boots, but which she appeared not to notice. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.
He strode back to the armchair and lowered into it, stretching out his legs before him. “I did. Frankly, I do not envision your reading material being any sort of issue for me.”
“Nevertheless. I require your agreement.”
“Very well. Is that the extent of your conditions?”
“Ah…no.” She hesitated. “We shall marry rather swiftly, my lord. At least, that is what my father informs me. Have I, perhaps, misunderstood him?”
He could not miss the hopeful note in her voice. Her question told him another thing, as well. She knew nothing of the wager.
“You have not.”
She lowered her eyes, and her thick fringe of black lashes cast shadows over her fair cheeks. “I see. My father’s doing, I suppose?”
Uncertain how to reply, he said nothing.
Evidently, she did not require an answer. She went on. “As we are to be married before having spent any time getting to know one another, I wanted to ask…” She broke off and her cheeks flamed scarlet.
Ah.A strong inkling of where she was going occurred to him.
She squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “I’d like some time to become acquainted before we…you…claim your marital rights.”
As he suspected. “Exactly what did you have in mind?”
She blinked. “I…until we become better acquainted?”
He scraped his hand over his stubble covered jaw. Images of his mother, taunting his father, sounds of doors slamming and fists pounding on said doors flooded his mind.
“Do you agree, sir?”
“I have no intention of forcing myself on you, if that is your concern. Neither do I intend to have a marriage in name only.”
“No, of course not.”
“How long do you anticipate this…period of getting-to-know one another to last?”
“Several weeks? A month?”
A month? The way his body responded to her mere presence, he could look forward to a very frustrating beginning to this marriage. But he would not chase after her like a hound.
No.He would have her come to him, a willing participant.
She would.
“I will agree to a brief period of time, madam, if that is your desire.”
She sent him a tremulous smile. “Thank you, Lord Culver. You’ve greatly relieved my mind.” She rose to her feet. “Well, then. I suppose I should get—”
“A moment, Lady Amelia. As long as you’re here, and we’re speaking frankly, I have some stipulations of my own.”
Chapter Four
Amelia regarded LordCulver from beneath lowered lashes. The notion he might have stipulations of his own had never occurred to her and her friends.
At least Lady Harriet had not mentioned such an eventuality.
In the muted firelight from the grate, his swarthy good looks took on a menacing air. The thick slash of his brows, furrowed over eyes so dark they appeared black, could only be described as brooding.
