His Wicked Lady (12 page)

Eyebrows raised, she offered a playful shrug.
“All right. Have it your way…for now.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Before he
could consider the impact of her words, she put the strawberry
halfway into her mouth. With a wink at him, she let her tongue
glide over it, slowly working around the entire thing.

Face warm, he quickly looked away before the
suggestive move excited him more than it should. If he wasn’t
careful, he’d get an erection. Recalling the butler, he almost
looked in his direction, wondering if the butler had seen her
scandalous little act, but he managed to keep his focus on the
plate in front of him.

“What do you want to do today, Leonard?”
Regan asked her son.

Relieved she’d finally taken her attention
off of him, Malcolm resumed eating. He didn’t know what to make of
his new wife. What other lady would dare do such bold things in
front of the staff? Didn’t anything—anything at all—embarrass
her?

He’d have to have a word with her when they
were alone. He was her husband now, and since that was the case, it
was his responsibility to lay down some rules. This kind of thing
couldn’t keep going on.

“I want to be with Father,” Leonard said.

Malcolm almost swallowed his eggs the wrong
way. Didn’t the boy get enough of him yesterday? He’d spent the
entire day with him after the wedding. Surely, the lad had other
interests besides him.

“I’m afraid you can’t go to the gentleman’s
club,” Regan told her son. “It’s only for adult gentlemen, and
those that are allowed there have to be voted in.”

“Your mother’s right. It’s an exclusive club.
Only the best of the best get in.” Recalling the fact that Logan
belonged there, too, he added, “Of course, there are a few who were
granted the honor of belonging to it. I’m not sure how they got in.
I assume they knew someone of influence or had significant
money.”

“Sometimes it’s who you know that matters in
this society,” Regan mused. “Leonard, as you get older, you’ll come
to realize this truth.”

Malcolm bristled. “Well, knowing the right
people does matter.”

Turning her startled expression to him, Regan
said, “I wasn’t talking about you. I was speaking of the Ton.”

He relaxed. “Oh. In that case, I
apologize.”

“Not everything I say or think about has to
do with you, Mr. Jasper.” She took a sip of her milk then put the
glass back on the table. “I’ll tell you what, Leonard. Why don’t we
visit Danette today?”

The boy’s shoulders slumped. “That will be
boring.”

“No, it won’t. She has toys she brings out
whenever you’re there.”

“But you talk and talk and talk. It’s
boring.”

“I hate to spoil things for you,” Malcolm
began, directing his attention to Leonard, “but the gentlemen at
White’s do the same thing. They might play chess or engage in a
bet, but mostly, it’s talk.” The boy didn’t seem to like hearing
this, so he added, “When you grow up, you’ll enjoy it.”

“After we go to Danette’s, we’ll go to the
park,” Regan offered.

The boy’s eyes lit up, and he was much more
content to spend a couple of hours listening to ladies engage in
boring talk. Malcolm couldn’t blame the lad for dreading it. Ladies
hardly had anything of interest to say. Their talk was often on the
fashion, gossip, or babies. Malcolm was much happier dealing with
money, which reminded him…

He wiped his mouth with the napkin then set
it on the plate. “I just remembered I have something important in
my bedchamber. I need it for White’s.” He glanced at Regan. It
would be rude to hop up and leave without her permission.

As if she could read his mind, she nodded.
“You may go.”

Surprised she didn’t protest or give him
another suggestive gesture, he thanked her and hurried to his
bedchamber. He searched through his trunk and was relieved to see
the butler had packed the modified plans he’d made after going to
Warren’s dinner party. Warren would love to see how well the new
plans turned out.

He put them on the dresser then debated
whether or not he should change. No. It’d be unnecessary. When he’d
dressed that morning, he’d had his trip to White’s in mind.
Gripping the rolled-up parchment, he turned to leave his bedchamber
when the door opened and Regan walked in.

He frowned. “I hope you won’t make it a habit
of coming into my bedchamber.”

She rose her eyebrows in mock innocence as
she clasped her hands together, an action which made her breasts
press nicely together. “You didn’t seem to mind what happened after
I came in last night.”

His gaze went to her cleavage, and a surge of
warmth flooded his loins. Irritated, he forced his gaze back to her
face. “I just remembered I have something very important to discuss
with you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Your behavior downstairs this morning
was inappropriate.”

“What behavior was that?”

He debated whether or not he should come
right out and say it. She knew full well what he was referring to.
She was baiting him. He could see it in her eyes.

“Do you enjoy playing games like a child,
Regan?” he asked.

“I assure you, my dear husband, childish
games were not what I had in mind.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. If
this was a discussion about money, he’d know exactly what to say,
but these sexual insinuations were new territory.

“Malcolm,” she walked over to him, “I’m not
trying to be difficult. I know that, to you, it seems like I am,
but really, I’m not. I want us to get along.”

“If that’s true, don’t do disgusting things
like licking a strawberry.”

“Did you really find it disgusting?”

This time, he sensed her raised eyebrows
stemmed from genuine surprise. “Yes, it was. I doubt the butler
found it the least bit amusing.”

“But I didn’t do it for the butler. I did it
for you. I was thinking tonight we could try something different.
Just think of the strawberry as your more interesting part.”

He gasped and covered the area of his groin,
though he was fully clothed. “I have no such inclination to do
that.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t?”

“Certainly not. I don’t know what you take me
for, but I am a gentleman.”

“The reason you’re a gentleman is why you
should enjoy having a lady’s mouth on your—”

“Enough. You don’t have to say the word.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want me to do
that?”

Since she was being sincere in asking the
question, he figured he’d answer it. “The purpose of being intimate
is to have children. I don’t see how doing the thing you proposed
with the strawberry is going to accomplish that.”

“Not everything we do has to result in
children.”

“I see no reason to do something unless
there’s a purpose for it.”

“The purpose would be fun. Enjoyment.
Pleasure.”

“I find all the fun I need from making
money.” Glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the
room, he said, “I want to make sure I get to White’s by the time
Warren does. He likes to get there early.”

“Warren?” she asked as he walked around
her.

“Lord Steinbeck.” He looked back at her and
smiled. “I get to refer to him by his Christian name. Not every
gentleman gets that honor. I took a look at your ledger, and I can
easily double what you have in two years. That’s why meetings with
people of Warren’s reputation are of the utmost importance.”

He was hoping she’d looked suitably
impressed, but she only stared at him as if she hadn’t heard a
single thing he’d said. Well, maybe when she realized how much he
was capable of earning, she’d understand why he had much more
important things to do than spend all day in a bedchamber.

***

Regan was confounded. Completely and utterly
confounded. Even after she made it to Danette’s, the conversation
she’d shared with Malcolm in his bedchamber still had her at a
loss.

She’d thought for sure after experiencing the
bliss of lovemaking that Malcolm would want to engage in it for the
sole purpose of enjoyment. But he surprised her. He still thought
it should only be for having children. He thought making money was
far more enjoyable, and, worse than that, he would rather spend
time with conceited know-it-alls like Lord Steinbeck.

If only she could discuss this matter with
Frederick. He’d know what to do. But then, if Frederick was alive,
she wouldn’t be in this situation.

She glanced at Danette who was giving Leonard
a tart. It was a shame she couldn’t talk to her friend about this.
Her friend had never been married. Her world was in books, and
nothing she ever read was remotely interesting.

“My father is nice,” Leonard told
Danette.

“That’s wonderful,” Danette replied. Picking
up a cup of tea, she turned to Regan. “Would you like more
tea?”

Regan glanced down at the cup she was
holding, which was still full. “No, I still have enough.”

Danette nodded and settled back on the settee
she and Regan were sitting on. “It’s good Mr. Jasper gets along so
well with your son. It’s what you hoped for.”

“Yes, it is.” She glanced at her son then
whispered, “He needed a father.” And Frederick would have wanted it
for him. In a louder voice, she added, “You can call him
Malcolm.”

“But I call him ‘father’,” Leonard said.

“Right,” she replied.

Danette studied her as she sipped some tea.
“Is something wrong?”

Regan tried to figure out the best way to
express her concerns. She couldn’t come right out and say what was
on her mind. Not only would Danette not understand, but Leonard was
listening. Finally, she opted for, “Malcolm and I aren’t getting
along as well as I’d hoped.”

“You can’t be surprised,” Danette told her,
her voice soft to help lessen the blow of her words. “He didn’t
exactly like you.”

“He didn’t give me a chance.”

“But you didn’t give him a reason to. What
gentleman wants to be pursued?”

“Frederick did.”

“Yes, but Frederick wasn’t like other
gentlemen.”

There was no arguing that statement. Regan
doubted any other husband would be happy to help her write a book
instructing gentlemen on how to pleasure their wives.

“Maybe you should let Malcolm pursue you for
a change,” Danette suggested.

Lowering her voice, she said, “The only thing
he wants to pursue is money. Maybe if I wore a dress made up of
pounds, he’d take an interest in me.”

Her friend giggled. “Oh, what a sight that
would be.”

Despite her sour mood, Regan chuckled. She
could just see it now. He’d be running after her, trying to grab
every last pound until she was naked. But knowing him, he’d run off
with the money instead of taking her to bed.

“It’s a shame you don’t have a gentleman to
talk to,” Danette said. “A gentleman would best know what to tell
you about Malcolm.”

Regan considered her friend’s words as she
sipped her tea. A gentleman would be the ideal source of advice.
Gentlemen had a different way of looking at things than ladies did.
She thought through all the gentlemen Frederick had introduced her
to, and she quickly dismissed all of them. She hadn’t given them
more than a polite greeting since his death. What she needed was a
gentleman she knew well enough to have a private discussion with,
and better yet, he had to be someone who didn’t mind talk of a
personal nature.

She gasped when Melissa’s husband came to
mind. Of course! Logan had been very bold in his speech yesterday
after the wedding. He might not be friends with Malcolm, but he had
a good sense of humor. She couldn’t think of anyone else who might
be able to help her. If she asked him for help, and he refused to
do it, then at least she’d know she’d tried.

“Danette,” she turned her attention back to
her friend who was doting on Leonard, “would you watch my son for
an hour? I think I know someone who might help me with
Malcolm.”

“I’ll be happy to stay with Leonard,” Danette
said. “He’s a delightful lad.”

“That’s why Father likes me,” Leonard
replied, his smile wide.

“No one could resist you. You’re nice and
intelligent. Those are good qualities.”

Regan watched Danette, thinking it was a
shame her friend had been so quick to give up on marriage. Granted,
she’d gone through three Seasons and had two failed engagements,
but she still had time to find a husband.

“May you find what you need,” Danette told
Regan.

“Thank you,” Regan replied, smiling at her
friend. Looking at her son, she added, “Be good.”

“I will. I’m nice and intelli-i-ge-a-ment,”
her son stammered in an effort to pronounce the word
‘intelligent’.

Regan chuckled before hurrying out of the
drawing room.

Chapter Eleven