The Earl's Inconvenient Wife (Regency Collection Book 1) (16 page)

Her eyebrows rose.  “You will?”

“Yes, and I promise to do my best.  I won’t be scribbling.”

“All right.”

They reached the flowers
, and when she came to a stop, she bent to study them.  Perhaps he should have suggested that she kneel instead since she was showing him, and anyone else who happened to be in the area, a nice view of her backside.  He quickly looked around to make sure no one was in sight, and since no one was, he decided to keep quiet.  She was his wife, after all, and there was no harm in him enjoying this view of her.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen her naked.

His mind unwittingly went to their wedding night when she’d taken off her clothes in front of him.  With all the running around he’d done to get the estate back in good standing, he hadn’t thought much of that night, but now that he was spending time with her, he could think about it.  And really, it wasn’t as if thinking about it was painful.  No, in fact it was very pleasant.  His lips curled up into a smile.  He might do well to think of it often.

“What’s your favorite color?”

It took him a moment to realize she was asking him a question.  Forcing his eyes off of her bottom, he made eye contact with her.  “Pardon?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh, let’s see.” At the moment, it was purple because that was the color of her dress, and the dress brought out her curves in a way that delighted him.  But he couldn’t tell her that.  Clearing his throat, he said, “Black.”

She straightened up, a process that disappointed him since it meant he no longer had a good view of her backside.  “Black?”

“Sure.  It’s a color.”

“But none of these flowers are black.”

“Did you mean what my favorite color for a flower is?”

She nodded.

And that right there showed just how little he was paying attention to what she’d been saying.  Though embarrassed to be caught not listening to her, he shrugged.  “I suppose red is doable for a flower, but to be honest, thinking of flowers isn’t something
gentlemen do.”

“I suppose n
ot.  Flowers are something ladies enjoy.”

“Right.” However, since she was interested in them, he should probably take some interest in them as well.  “Which color do you like best?”

“I can’t decide between purple or yellow.”

“Purple.”

“Purple?”

Glancing at her dress, he nodded.  “Purple.”

She smiled and shrugged.  “All right.  Purple it is.” She picked a purple wildflower.

“Are you going to draw that?”

“No.  You are when you can’t guess what I draw.”

“So sure of yourself, are you?” he asked, finding the challenge more delightful than he supposed it should be.  This challenge, after all, had nothing to do with politics or the war, and it didn’t have a chessboard involved.  But he caught a playfully competitive edge to her
disposition and found it pleased him, so he was more than happy to go along with whatever she had planned.

She shrugged in a coy way that excited him and said, “You couldn’t tell I had drawn flowers, so yes, I am sure of myself.”

Further intrigued, he countered, “Perhaps I really knew you’d drawn flowers but wanted to amuse you.”

“No, that wasn’t the case.”

“But how can you be sure?”

“Because I saw the look on your face when you saw those pictures.  I’d never seen a
gentleman who struggled more to control the urge to laugh.  It was actually kind of you to regard my feelings the way you did.”

It was funny she should term it that way.  He hadn’t thought of it as being anything chivalrous, but he rather fancied the way she termed it.  In a way, it made him feel like a hero.

“Are you ready to go to the gazebo?” she asked.

Sensing she looked forward to his ability to guess what she drew, he nodded, and they strolled to the white structure surrounded by bushes and trees.  He couldn’t recall a time he’d ever been here, and it impressed him it was well maintained.

“This is a beautiful place,” she commented and stood still for a moment.

He stopped beside her so she could study it.  She seemed to study almost everything she came across that she admired, but he supposed that
was something ladies did.  Spending time looking at flowers and gazebos wasn’t really that much of a waste, especially when he was seeing a side of his wife he enjoyed.  It reminded him of that brief moment on their wedding night when she’d confided her fears to him.  It was nice to know she could be that way when she wasn’t drunk.

Once she headed toward the gazebo, he joined her.  He went up the steps behind her and sat next to her, something that seemed to startle her since she gave a slight jerk.

Chuckling, he teased, “You have no need to worry.  I won’t watch as you draw.  I’ll play this game honorably.”

“No, it’s not that.  It’s…”

“It’s what?”

She hesitated, a worried frown on her lips.  Finally, she shook her head.  “Nothing.  Shall we get started?”

He thought to press her, to find out what had disturbed her, but he figured she was entitled to keep her thoughts to herself and settled for nodding his agreement.  She turned her attention to the drawing pad, the purple wildflower still in her hand.  He wondered why she held onto it like she did.  She couldn’t mean to draw it.  That would be too obvious.

With a shrug, he decided it wa
s one of the quirky things ladies did and scanned their surroundings.  He didn’t note anything of particular interest.  A few birds, the breeze wafting through the tree branches, and the way the cloud caused a shadow to fall across a section of the lawn.  Nothing exciting, but he noted how peaceful everything was.  With the activity in London, it was easy to forget life could slow down.  And even more surprising was the fact that he didn’t mind it.

Beside him, Claire finished her drawing and held it up to him.  “What do you think this is?”

He bit his tongue so he wouldn’t say the first thing that came to mind because it couldn’t be right and he knew her delicate sensibilities would not permit her to draw such a thing.  He blinked several times, willing the image of an erection between a pair of breasts from his mind.  It wasn’t that.  There was no way it was that.  And this only proved that accepting a book from Lord Edon gave a gentleman mental images that would alarm a virginal wife.

He scanned the grounds again, trying to find something—anything—that might resemble what he’d seen.  All he needed was to find two round objects and a pole.  Surely, that couldn’t be too hard.  And yet, as he frantically tried to find anything similar to it, his luck failed him.

Resigned, he lied and said, “It looks like two balls and a stick.” At that, he inwardly cringed.  Likening a gentleman’s erection to a stick, indeed.  Clearing his throat, he added, “I mean a branch.  One that’s thick and long.  Maybe even a tree.  Yes, a big tree that dwarfs the bushes surrounding it.” Yes, that sounded much better.

To his surprise, she let out a disappointed sigh.  “How did you know?”

“I’m right?”

“Yes.  I was drawing that tree over there, except I wouldn’t say the tree dwarfs the bushes.  The bushes are a good height.”

“I’m sure they seem that way from your vantage point, but that tree is very big.”

“There are other trees on the property that are bigger.”

He gasped.  “I should think not!”

“All right.  I’ll let you believe what you will.”

He was ready to argue with her but reminded himself that she had no idea what he’d really seen in her drawing.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Do?”

“You guessed right about what I was drawing, so I have to do something you want.”

Oh right.  The interesting part of this morning’s venture, though he had to admit taking time to enjoy the grounds and talking to her were turning out to be far more entertaining than he imagined they’d be.  He thought for a moment on what he’d like her to do and then recalled how lovely she’d looked without her hair pinned up.  “I’d like you to take those pins out of your hair.”

She furrowed her eyebrows.  “That’s an odd request.”

“Is it?”

“I don’t see why you’d want such a thing.”

“And what would you rather have me ask you to do?”

After a long moment, she shrugged and placed the pad on the bench.  “You win.”

Laughing as she started pulling the pins out, he asked, “I win?”

“Yes.  I don’t know what else you could have me do.”

She was wrong about that.  He could ask her to do plenty, but since they were in a public area where anyone could see them, he didn’t dare.

She took out a few pins and held them to him.  “Will you hold them for me?  I don’t want any to fall to the ground.  They were a gift from my sister, and I’d hate to lose them.”

“Yes.” As she put them in his hand and picked out more from her hair, he studied the beaded pins which twinkled in the sunlight.  “You miss your sister, don’t you?”

“Terribly.”

“Do you find any joy in being here?” he whispered, afraid of her answer but needing to know.

“I enjoy being here with you today,” she softly admitted and then handed him the rest of the pins.  “It
was hard to be alone.  I don’t like being around a lot of people, but I like spending the day with someone whose company I enjoy.”

“Isn’t that true for everyone?”

“No, not my sister.  She loves being surrounded by people.”

“But she also likes being around you, I’m sure.”

“She does, but when she is with me, she wants to go where’s there’s a lot of activity.  She has a hard time sitting still unless she’s watching a play.  Something like what we’re doing today would bore her.  She’d say there’s nothing to see out here.”

Up until today, he would have agreed with her sister.

“Another reason why I don’t like crowded areas is that I have a tendency to get faint.  The ball was very uncomfortable for me.  That’s why I went out on the veranda.  I was lightheaded and felt as if the walls were closing in on me.”

“Really?”

She nodded.  “I would have gotten my mother, but she was clear across the room, and I knew I’d faint if I didn’t get outside soon.”

“Oh.” So that’s why she’d been holding the column.  She was supporting herself, and that meant she hadn’t been out there in hopes of getting a
titled gentleman to notice her.  “I’m sorry I assumed the worst that night.”

She smiled at him then, and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember where they were.  The rest of the world faded away, and all he could think of was how beautiful she looked.  He reached out and touched her hair, noting its silky texture.  Though her cheeks grew pink, she didn’t look away from him as he ran his fingers through her hair in an attempt to comb it out so her waves framed her face.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, grateful it hadn’t worked out with the Duke of Rumsey’s daughter after all.  Lady Catherine might have been pleasant enough, but he doubted he would have enjoyed being with her the same way he was enjoying his time with his wife.  “I was wrong about you,” he added, finally making eye contact with her.  “You aren’t the person I thought you were.  I’m sorry I gave you so much grief when we first married.”

Her smile widened, and in that instant, he knew everything was going to be good for them.  She wouldn’t hold a grudge.  She was offering a chance to start over, and he appreciated that.  He cupped the side of her face in his hand and leaned forward so he could kiss her.  Her lips were as soft and warm as he remembered, but this kiss was much better than the one they’d shared on their wedding night.  This time she wasn’t drunk.  She knew what she was doing, and she was choosing to do it with him.

In fact, she settled against him, her body pressing nicely against his.  Still clasping the pins in his hand, he brought his arms around her and deepened the kiss.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, seeming to melt in his embrace, something he rather liked.  She was giving herself willingly to him, and he appreciated it.

He traced her lower lip with his tongue, and she parted her lips for him.  Accepting her silent invitation, he interlaced his tongue with hers, savoring the taste of her.  The kiss excited him to the point where he thought his heart might burst.  He couldn’t recall a time when he felt as if he was losing control of everything but knowing he was safe at the same time.

When their kiss ended, he continued to hold her.  Her head settled on his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head, noting the sweet fragrance of her soap.  “May I call you Claire?”

“You have been all along,” she murmured.

“Yes, but I want to call you by your Christian name as a term of endearment from now on.”

She nodded.  “I’d like that.  Can I call you by your Christian name?”

“Yes.  It’s Nathaniel, but I like to be called Nate.”

“I like the name Nate.  It suits you.”

Smiling, he kissed the top of her head again.  After a few moments passed, he reluctantly pulled away from her.  “Are you ready to draw another picture?”