His Contract Bride (5 page)

The pale pink that stained her cheeks was his only confirmation.

“
So...” he prompted.

“
I—I don't know,” she said.

“
Very well. Perhaps you'll discover an interest for something this Season,” he offered, praying there would be; for he had little doubt by her tone and facial expression that she’d likely been telling the truth and she didn’t know.

“
Perhaps so,” she agreed; a new little sparkle lighting her eyes.

“
Say, Watson,” Mr. Harris called. “Now that you're married, you'll want to host an annual ball, will you not?”

“
I think that'll be at the discretion of Lady Watson,” he returned, praying she'd decide against doing so.

Her father looked at her with dark, intent eyes, and she nodded slowly. “Of course. We'll have one sometime after we return to London from our month trip to Watson Estate for the remainder of the Season.”

“
In addition to the breakfast you've already promised me, correct?”

Regina looked as excited at the prospect as Edward felt. “Yes, sir,” she said.

“
Good. Good.” Her father nodded his approval then turned back to speak to the lady at his right.

Had there not been so many guests, Edward would have leaned over to assure Regina that she didn't have to host anything in their home if she didn't wish to. No matter. He could tell her that later.

Their meal soon ended, and it was time to say their goodbyes to their guests and leave for Watson Estate, the seat of his barony.

Like all other ladies he'd ever witnessed, Regina stood by the door and said her goodbyes to all of their guests. Unlike all of the other ladies he'd ever witnessed, Regina gave a slight but noticeable wince every time one of their guests leaned in to hug her. Odd.

Edward shook it off. He was probably imagining things. All women loved hugs and affection. She was probably just nervous about what would be happening tonight... A slow smile spread his lips.

“
Have you no shame, Edward, your guests haven't even left yet,” John said quietly, a smug smile on his lips.

Edward pursed his lips. It was times like this that he just wanted to smack the clodpole on his head. “Don't you need to be leaving for Eton soon?”

“
Actually, no.” The left corner of his mouth tipped up. “I wrote to Mr. Sweeny of your nuptials, and he said I may stay with you for another week.”

“
Like hell you will,” Edward whispered. “You'll get your arse to Eton this afternoon if I have to take you there myself.”

“
And what would your new bride say to that?”

“
'Thank you for ridding the house of the pestilence',” Edward returned, taking a measure of satisfaction at the way his brother's boyish grin slipped.

“
Fine, I'll go. But don't ever accuse me of not being supportive of your new union.”

Edward would have laughed at the absurdity of his brother's statement if not for Mr. Harris' annoying voice floating to his ears.

“
I trust you shall not keep us waiting for the grand event,” Regina's father said to her.

Regina nodded. “Of course not, Father.”

Edward scowled. Mr. Harris was not alluding to the birth of Regina's first child, of that he was certain. No, he was making direct reference to Regina's agreement to host a breakfast and now a ball during the Season that had just started. As if marrying her off to a baron hadn't been enough, now he wanted to push her to facilitate his acceptance into ballrooms across London? It was damned infuriating, it was, and Edward was not going to have any of it. “Mr. Harris—”

“
Mrs. Lowry,” Joseph, Lord Sinclair, one of Edward's closest friends, cut in smoothly, paying no mind to Edward or his curt tone. “That fan you're holding is quite lovely.”

Regina's aunt lifted the ugly fan in her hand and giggled. “Oh, thank you, Lord Sinclair,” she gushed. “My nephew brought it back for me from his trip to the Orient.”

“
It looks lovely,” Joseph murmured. Marrying a creature who had abominable fashion taste and sought compliments at every turn must have given Joseph an invaluable education in paying false compliments. Something he was doing perfectly at present. “Did he bring anything else?”

“
Of course he did,” Mr. Harris said, puffing out his chest. “He brought me back this penknife.” He whipped out a penknife with a glossed bone handle, then turned it over in his hand and exposed the blade.

Presumably in an attempt to humor him, too, Joseph complimented the knife and allowed the braggart to lead him and his wife off to his study to admire more baubles. Edward would have to pay the man his many thanks next time he saw him.

“
Regina?” Edward said quietly. “Are you ready to go to your new home now?”

“
Of course,” she said on a shaky breath, then turned and met his eyes.

He offered her his arm. “Let's be off, then.”

~Chapter Four~

The ride to Watson Estate was expected to last about six hours, and fortunately, the time passed quickly enough. But then again, since Regina's exhaustion from lack of sleep the past few days led her to fall into a sleep that rivaled a coma only thirty minutes into the ride, she didn't really know how long it took.

“
We're here,” Edward said, giving her arm a slight squeeze.

Regina's eyes fluttered open, and she held still a moment to let them get accustomed to her dimly lit surroundings. She moved her right hand from where she'd had it balled up in her lap down to the space next to her to help push herself off the hard surface she'd been reclining against.

“
Ooof,” Edward said, encircling her wrist. “Be careful where you shove, darling.”

Heat flooded Regina's face. “Forgive me. I didn't mean...”

“
I know.” He helped her into a sitting position then wrapped his arms around her. With a gentleness she'd have never guessed a man like him would possess, he lifted her up and descended the carriage.

Outside the carriage was scarcely brighter than the inside had been with only the moon illuminating Edward's path in the darkness.

As they reached the house, Edward whispered a few words to a waiting servant. But Regina didn't hear his command, nor did she care. The steady pounding of his heart against her ear was all she cared about at the moment.

A few minutes later, Edward's strong arms lowered her against a plush feather surface. She opened her eyes and looked from her husband to the woman dressed in a tan dress standing against the wall.

“
Regina, I'd like to introduce you to Georgie. She's to be your lady's maid.”

Regina swallowed. She'd never actually had a lady's maid before. Father liked to appear wealthy to the public, but within his home, he kept things to a minimum. For this reason, the same maid who cleaned the parlor had also helped Regina and Aunt Florence dress when they required it. “It's very nice to meet you.”

Edward reached up toward his hair, stopping when his fingers met the wig he still wore. He lowered his hand and nonchalantly wiped the powder from his fingers on his breeches. “I'll leave the two of you to it, then.”

Regina hid her smile at the nervousness she'd detected in his voice. He couldn't be much older than she, two years at most, putting him around twenty, young enough to still be shy and awkward around ladies, but still proud enough not to want it to show. She licked her lips and opened her mouth to ask if he planned to return, but when she remembered Georgie was still in the room, she decided against it.

“
Don't worry, my lady. He'll be back.”

Regina's eyes widened in surprise. “P-pardon?”

Her maid laughed. “Let's get you changed for his arrival, shall we, my lady?”

Blessedly, Georgie didn't comment on her blush. “Of course.”

Georgie stepped behind Regina and began to loosen the ties of her gown. Regina sighed in relief. Her father had insisted she wear that blasted heavy gown all day, regardless of how uncomfortable it was for traveling.

Her maid pulled loose the knots that held her wire stays in place, letting them
cling
and
clang
into a heap on the wooden floor.

“
Just a moment more, my lady,” Georgie then pulled the top of her dress from Regina's shoulders and brought the dress to the floor for Regina to step out of.

“
Thank you,” she murmured. Unaccustomed to being undressed by a stranger, she stepped out of her slippers and refused Georgie's help with her stockings. She might be a baroness now, but she was not an invalid.

Georgie walked across the room and slid out a drawer in the bureau. When she returned it was with a large white square of fabric in her hands.

Regina's eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

“
Your nightgown,” Georgie said simply, airing it out.

“
Are you sure?”

“
It's what you sent, my lady.” Smiling, the maid assured her, “Now that you're married, this is the appropriate type of nightgown.”

Regina nodded. It was the only response she could form. She'd have seen her nightgown already and not been so surprised had she been well enough to attend the final fittings for her trousseau. Aunt Florence, who was approximately her height, had gone in her stead. It was only a nightgown after all; it didn't need to be sewn to fit her body perfectly.

With a shrug, she peeled off her chemise and allowed Georgie to help her into the oversized nightgown.

Impulsively, Regina clutched the fabric against her skin to fight off the feeling of being naked in another's presence. It wasn't that the nightgown was low cut or sheer, thus revealing her most intimate parts to this stranger's gaze, but because there was so much fabric, it billowed out and away from her so much she hardly felt anything against her skin. Two buttons held a stiff collar flush against her neck then suddenly the fabric billowed out. Yards and yards of fabric had to have been used. All the way from her shoulder to her wrists and ankles, white puffy fabric engulfed her. Only around her neck and wrists was it tight, and then only in small strips—just enough to hold the fabric against her body.

She dropped her gaze to the floor and nearly groaned. In a pool around her feet, there had to be at least another yard of fabric. “Goodness,” she mumbled under her breath. “Are you sure this wasn't intended to be a bed sheet?”

Georgie shook her head. “No, my lady. It is exactly the thing that was sent with your trunks, I assure you.”

“
Very well.” This
had
to be the work of her aunt. Heaven forbid if one's husband were to see her womanly curves; and shall the woman be struck dead by lightning if she revealed to him more than an inch of skin. She fisted both of her hands into the folds of loose fabric that hung at her sides and, using her fingers, bunched up the fabric until it was no longer dragging on the floor.

With the much-needed assistance of Georgie, Regina climbed into her bed and refused any other coverings. She was already hot wearing this; she might die from heat if she were to cover up with anything else.

After adjusting the curtains and gathering Regina's discarded clothes, Georgie blew out the candles and made her quiet exit.

Regina rolled over. Then she groaned. This nightgown would be the death of her. And that wasn't an exaggeration. She moved around in her sleep so much that if she didn't get all of this fabric off of her, she might hang herself.

With another low groan, Regina scooted to the edge of the bed and placed her feet on the floor. Quickly, she undid the two buttons that held the stiff collar around her neck, then sighed with relief as she pulled the fabric open, allowing herself to breathe again. Standing, she dug both hands into the endless fabric that made up the rest of the gown. Holding a fair amount of fabric firmly in both hands, she started to lift—only to be stopped by the unmistakable creaking of a door.

“
Edward?” Regina said breathlessly, panic halting her movements.

“
Yes.” His voice was nothing more than a low whisper. He padded toward her, his bare feet making soft thuds against the wooden floor. He stopped about three feet in front of her, and in the dim moonlight she stood quiet as he raked his hand through his hair. “Did I wake you?”

Regina almost laughed at his nervous question. “Do you think of me as a horse, my lord?” she blurted before she could stop herself from saying something that might be considered disrespectful.

“
A horse?”

“
It is equines who sleep while standing, is it not?”

He chuckled at her reasoning. Then his gaze swept her from the unbuttoned top of her nightgown that formed a V just large enough to show him the dip in the column of her throat all the way down to her still covered feet.