The Inconvenient Duchess

wife properly attired. The sight of a woman wearing a corset, after so much time spent with the sort of woman that doesn’t bother with stays is rather refreshing.’
    She was watching him intently now; the fork paused halfway to her mouth.
    ‘I would certainly buy a collection of decently plain fabrics for my wife. None of this nonsense with damped petticoats and sheer gowns. Of course,’ he drawled absently, ‘the sight of rouged nipples displayed behind transparent gauze is rather intriguing the first time one sees it, but annoying in practice.’ He cupped a hand over an imaginary breast. ‘The rouge gets everywhere and stains the fingers. And the teeth, of course.’
    She dropped her fork with a quick intake of breath.
    ‘If I had spent the week with a mistress, I would, no doubt, bring you a most sensible wardrobe, well suited to your tastes, I’m sure. High necklines. Fabrics that don’t show wear. And a bracelet, perhaps.’
    He looked seriously into her eyes. ‘But, as I do not, at this time, have a mistress, or plans to acquire one, I contented myself with bringing the silks and satins home to my wife, since I noticed on leaving that she was most sorely in need of clothes.’
    Her mouth set in a prim line, disapproving of the joke he’d played. And then it changed to wonder as the words sunk in. And anger again, although he was not sure it was for him. Strange woman, his new wife. He leaned close to her and she turned her head away, refusing to meet his eyes. He let an idle hand drop to rest at the back of her chair, brushing the skin of her throat as he did so. And then he leaned low over her, so that his mouth nearly touched her ear.
    ‘I seem to have the selfish and foolish desire to know that my wife is dressed from head to foot in clothing that I have given her.’ His voice went husky. ‘And I suspect it would give me equal pleasure to see those clothes removed at the end of the day. If that day is a week from now, or a year, I will wait for it.’
    He could feel the breath catch in her throat, and wondered what her response would be if he leaned forward another inch and caught her earlobe in his teeth.
    And, as if she’d read the thought in his mind, her breath escaped in a shuddering gasp.
    He leaned away from her and laid a hand on her shoulder.
    ‘Does it surprise you to think that I might want to see you happy, Miranda? And that I might look forward to knowing you better?’
    ‘I never thought…’
    ‘Evidently. What did you think that marriage would be like? What did you expect when you came here?’
    She thought for a moment and said carefully, ‘I tried very hard not to expect anything.’
    ‘You had no hopes? No dreams? No girlish fantasies?’
    ‘I suppose…’ She paused and began again. ‘I left girlish fantasies behind long ago. It was quite plain that I would marry the man who would have me and make the best of it in any case. One can aim high, hoping to hit a star, and miss the target entirely.’
    ‘But if one aims too low?’ he asked.
    ‘At least one does not lose the arrow. It seemed foolish to hope for a particular type of husband, when I would be saying yes to the man who offered, regardless of his features, his wealth or his personality.’
    He laughed and she looked up at him, worried.
    ‘If you were willing to settle for anyone, then I cannot be too great a disappointment.’
    ‘A surprise, perhaps. But not a disappointment. And you, Marcus? Did you give thought to the sort of woman you might marry?’ Her gaze was level, but tinged with apprehension. ‘You say you have no mistress—’
    ‘Because I have none.’ He tried to keep the reproof out of his voice.
    ‘Was there anyone else? Had you any plans before I came here?’ She hesitated. ‘When we met, you told me yourself that you were a notorious rake. Why should I not take you at your own word?’
    He looked levelly back at her. ‘A man does not reach the age of five and thirty without knowing women. Of course there were others, but none recently and none I intended totake as wife. While it is true that I had no desire to marry you when you arrived, and I had done my best to avoid my mother’s scheme, it does not mean that your arrival spoiled any immediate plans. My mother was right in one thing: it was time that I was settled. I married once for love. It is a thing best got out of one’s system in youth. It did not end well. If this time I married for honour and for expediency, I cannot