Page 27 of The Viscount and the Vixen
A corner of his mouth hitched up, his gaze never leaving hers, even though the razor began to move along his jaw. “The sun is up. I missed my chance.”
Even knowing that the room wasn’t lit with candles, she sat up and stared at the window. It couldn’t be much past dawn. Her gaze fell on the pillow beside hers. Indented from where his head had rested on it. He’d slept with her, but she was in a cocoon of blankets. He couldn’t have touched her if he’d wanted.
She jerked her gaze back to him. “But we must consummate the marriage.”
Running the towel over his face, he turned from the mirror, his grin broadening. “Anxious to have me, are you?”
“I simply want to ensure that everything is legal, that you can’t annul this marriage on a whim.”
She hated the way he scrutinized her, as though he had the means to explore her soul, every hidden nook and cranny of it. He angled his head to the side. “Am I going to learn something today to make me want to undo this marriage?”
“No, of course not.” Hopefully he’d never learn of it. She’d do all in her power to ensure he didn’t. “But as I mentioned yesterday, I sought marriage for security. I can’t feel secure if you can claim that I have not seen to my wifely duties.”
“Duties?” With a shake of his head, he reached for his shirt draped over a straight-backed chair. “You’ve convinced me that we must wait for tonight as it appears I’ll need more time than I thought to ensure you don’t view our coupling as a duty.” He shrugged into the shirt, began buttoning it.
She scrambled out of bed. “You can take all the time you want now.”
“Alas, my dear wife, I have responsibilities that require I go to the mines today. This evening will be soon enough.”
It would be. She knew that. She was being silly to worry over this one aspect. What would one more day hurt? Besides, it would give her a chance to grow accustomed to the notion that she would be bedded by a young, virile, and exceedingly masculine husband rather than a bent and wrinkled one. She could shore up her defenses so she didn’t give the impression that he had the ability to control her with a touch.
He snatched up his neck cloth.
“You don’t have a valet,” she said. A statement not a question.
“You met all the indoor servants.”
She crossed over to him and lightly slapped his hands aside. “I’ll do it.”
“I hadn’t considered this advantage to having a wife.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“Teasing. There’s a difference.”
“Yesterday you didn’t strike me as one who would tease.”
“You didn’t strike me as one who would do for others.”
She lifted her gaze to his, once more unsettled by how thoroughly he seemed to be studying her. “It seems we were both wrong.”
She patted the knot. “There.” And snatched up his waistcoat.
He turned for the mirror, lifted his chin slightly. “You did an excellent job.”
“I used to do them for Montie.” Holding out the waistcoat for him, drawing it up over his arms, onto this shoulders, she grimaced at the slip of her tongue. He was far too distracting, but with any luck perhaps he hadn’t paid any attention to her words.
He faced her. “Montie?”
It seemed luck wasn’t going to favor her today. She began buttoning up the black silk. “My husband.”
“Do you miss him?” A muscle jumped in his jaw as it tightened, making her think he wished he’d bitten back the question.
“No,” she answered honestly, picking up his jacket, holding it up so he could turn and slip his arms inside. Only he didn’t turn.
“I thought you loved him.”
“I did. Just not so much at the end.” She didn’t know what had possessed her to admit that. She’d hated Montie by the end. Despised him once she discovered the hurt he was capable of inflicting, realized he wasn’t deserving of her affections.
