His Wicked Lady (16 page)

She bit her lower lip. “Don’t gentlemen
experience great discomfort if their needs aren’t met? Not to be
indiscreet, but I could tell he didn’t take care of things on his
own.”

“That’s even better. If he’s not relieving
the discomfort on his own, it gives you a better advantage. Make
him come to you. Don’t make it easy by going to him.”

She took a sip of her tea as she considered
what he said. He had a point. A good one, actually. Malcolm had
made it clear he had no interest in lovemaking beyond conceiving a
child. Technically, since they’d already consummated the marriage,
she could very well be with child right now.

There would be no reason to make another
attempt until she had her lady’s time of month. It’d be easy enough
to explain why she didn’t go to his bedchamber, if he was inclined
to ask. And how could he argue her logic without admitting he
wanted to make love to her for the sake of pleasure?

But still…

“Is it right to torment one’s husband in such
a way?” she asked.

Logan finished drinking his tea then gave her
a pointed look. “Is it right to torment one’s wife by making her
tell you how important you are so she can get you to spend time
with her?”

“When you put it that way, it seems like
Malcolm deserves to suffer.”

“Don’t think of it as suffering. All you’re
doing is showing him it’s all right for the gentleman to initiate
lovemaking. Though, why a lady has to show her husband something so
obvious still confounds me. But that’s irrelevant. The next time
you suggest putting your mouth on the most interesting part of his
body, wouldn’t you like it if he didn’t argue with you?”

“Yes, that would be nice. I want a good
intimate life. I had one with my first husband. Once a lady gets
used to it, it’s hard for her to give it up.”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “I’m telling you, if
you wait for him to come to you, he’ll be completely and totally
yours, in and out of bed.”

“I’d like that.” She wanted nothing more than
for Malcolm to fall in love with her. If she had to sacrifice a few
romantic nights to get that to happen, it’d be worth it. “Thank
you, Logan.”

He patted her hand with brotherly affection
and grinned. “Stay the course and all will work out.”

“What will work out?” came a familiar
voice.

They looked up in time to see Malcolm coming
into the room, rolled-up parchment under his arm and a scowl on his
otherwise handsome face.

“Why are you in my townhouse, and, more
importantly, why are you touching my wife?” Malcolm demanded,
striding over to Logan.

“First,” Logan began as he stood up, “this
isn’t your townhouse. It’s hers.” He gestured to Regan. “Second, I
was merely offering my comfort in this trying time of her
life.”

“Trying time?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes. The poor thing is married to you. Her
life will never be the same.” Logan maintained eye contact with
Malcolm, as if daring him to offer a rebuttal.

“It must be boring to lead the kind of life
you do, Logan. Drifting from one thing to another with no real
purpose. Meanwhile, the rest of us are engaged in important
things.”

Logan raised an eyebrow and
glanced at Regan as if to ask,
He always
has something important going on, doesn’t he?
Regan stifled the giggle that rose up in her throat. The two
of them really didn’t get along, but it was amusing to watch them
engage in their banters, though she’d never tell either one
that.

“As it turns out,” Logan began, “I came here
to invite you both to dinner tomorrow evening. Melissa wishes to
get to know her sister-in-law better, and I wouldn’t mind welcoming
her to the family as well. The fact that you’re coming along is a
mere inconvenience I’m willing to bear. That is, unless you have
something important to do. I wouldn’t want to keep you away from
amassing a king’s fortune.”

“We’re unable to attend. Lord Steinbeck has
already extended an invitation for tomorrow.”

Regan, who was biting into her scone, almost
gagged on it. An entire evening with Lord Steinbeck? She’d rather
stick a fork in her eye.

“I have an idea,” Logan
said, his smile widening. “Why don’t you go to Lord
Stein
blech
’s, and
your lovely wife will come over to my place?”

This time, Regan wasn’t successful at hiding
her laughter. She’d never heard Steinbeck referred to in such a
way, but the name Logan came up with certainly fit. When Malcolm
glanced her way, she covered up her laughter by coughing into a
napkin.

Malcolm turned his attention
back to Logan, “My wife wouldn’t dream of missing such a golden
opportunity. Lord Stein
beck
is very influential. He’ll be bringing Lady
Iris.”

Logan grimaced. “You mean the Duke of
Hartwell’s daughter?”

“Yes. She’s got a pristine reputation and a
lot of money,” he replied.

“She has a pristine reputation because she’s
so ugly no one will go near her. Sadly, all the money in the world
can’t make up for her looks.”

Malcolm looked over at Regan and gestured to
Logan. “You see how inconsiderate he is? Only a cad would refer to
a lady like that.”

“Well, it’s true,” Logan said. “She’d be
better off wearing a mask to the balls. Maybe then someone would
touch her. Malcolm, if you ever need to restrain your baser
desires, think of her.”

“Unlike you, I am a gentleman. I don’t have
base desires.”

Logan smirked at him. “Sure, you don’t.” Then
he turned to Regan. “So, will you be gracing us with your presence
tomorrow evening?”

Before Regan could speak, Malcolm said,
“She’ll be going to Lord Steinbeck’s with me. She’s my wife. Her
place is by my side.”

“She can speak for herself.”

“Fine.” With an irritated sigh, Malcolm
glanced over at her. “Tell him you’re going to Lord Steinbeck’s
with me.”

Regan set aside the rest of her scone and
rose to her feet. “He’s right, Logan. I’ll be going with him
tomorrow.” Just as Malcolm turned to give Logan a satisfied smile,
she added, “But I do want to visit you and Melissa. Would the day
after tomorrow be all right?”

“That will be fine,” Logan replied. “I’ll let
my darling wife know.” He bowed to Regan. “It’ll be a pleasure to
see you then.” With a glance at Malcolm, he added, “We’ll just have
to make the best of it with you there.”

After Logan left, Malcolm rolled his eyes.
“I’ve never met anyone more annoying in all my life. What did he
want?”

“He merely wanted to see how I was doing,”
Regan replied then settled back on the settee. “Would you like
something to eat or drink?”

“I suppose something to tide me over until
dinner will do.” Malcolm sat next to her and put the parchment on
the table, next to the tray. “Where’s Leonard?”

“Resting. He takes a nap this time of
day.”

“Oh.” Malcolm reached for a scone.

“Did you have a productive meeting with
Warren and his friends?”

“I did. The plans are finalized, and I’ll
have them delivered to Mr. Raleigh.”

“That’s good.”

He almost took a bite of the scone but then
lowered it and turned toward her. “Do you honestly enjoy Logan’s
company?”

“He’s got a good sense of humor,” she
allowed. “Why? You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Jealous? Of Logan?” He scoffed. “That’s like
a lion being jealous of an ant, or a great storm with thunder and
lightning being jealous of a mere sprinkle.”

She hid her smile and ate the rest of her
scone. It was rather flattering to think he might actually be
jealous, which she suspected he most definitely was. His pride, of
course, would prevent him from admitting it.

After he finished his scone, he said, “I
think you’ll like Warren and his friends. Naturally, you’ll be
spending a great part of the evening with the ladies, but I hear
they are delightful to talk to. I only ask… That is…”

Noting his uncertainty, she encouraged,
“What?”

“Well, I know you like to push the boundaries
of what is acceptable and what isn’t. This is a very important
evening for me, and Warren is rather particular about who he has at
his dinner parties. Like Logan. He would never invite Logan. Logan
would say or do something to embarrass everyone.”

By
everyone
, he meant him, Regan knew,
but to save him from having to come out and say it, she offered him
a smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.”

He sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

“I want to do what I can to help you.”

“I appreciate that.” He poured them both a
cup of tea and handed her one. As she took it, he said, “I must
say, this is refreshing. I like you this way.”

“I told you we could get along well.”

“You were right.”

She took a sip of her tea. Logan’s advice was
working out perfectly. A few kind words and a little stroking of
Malcolm’s ego had him wanting to spend time with her. Now, if she
could manage to keep her hands off him, maybe—just maybe—he’d take
her to bed and make mad, passionate love to her.

Chapter Fourteen

“M
alcolm!” Warren called out the next evening as Regan entered
the drawing room with Malcolm. “What a pleasure it is to have you
here. And this is your lovely wife,” he added, coming over to them.
With a bow, he added, “Lady Cantrell.”

She curtsied. “Lord Steinbeck.”

“You may refer to her as Regan,” Malcolm told
him.

“What a lovely name,” Warren said, smiling at
her. “It was also my mother’s.”

“Oh, how…nice,” Regan replied.

What else was she supposed to say? She
glanced at Malcolm, whose expression, if she read it right,
indicated he thought it was a good omen she shared the same name as
Warren’s mother. In fact, Malcolm looked positively excited about
being here.

It was a shame he didn’t come to their
wedding with the same enthusiasm. She would have even been happy if
he came to their wedding with half the excitement as he was showing
now. But she told herself not to despair. She was employing Logan’s
ideas now, and already they were working. Granted, Malcolm had yet
to come to her bedchamber, but he was spending time with her. That,
for now, was enough.

Warren led them further into the room and
motioned to the lady, who’d risen from the settee. “This is Lady
Iris. She’s the Duke of Hartwell’s daughter.”

Noting the proud tone in Warren’s voice,
Regan studied his countenance as he continued to tell them all the
wonderful things the duke did for the betterment of London. He
seemed rather impressed with the lady simply because of her
father.

Regan suspected his interest in her had
little to do with how she looked. Unlike Logan, Regan didn’t think
she was ugly. If she made herself more presentable, she might be
attractive. But as it was, she didn’t do much to style her hair or
adorn her drab green dress. In fact, the dress looked too big for
her. Didn’t she want to show off her figure?

Gentlemen were visual creatures. It was why
Regan made sure to wear her best dresses and gowns around Malcolm.
He might be able to resist her for a while, but sooner or later,
he’d need to give in to his sexual urges, regardless of whether a
child would be the product of the union or not.

“Regan’s first husband left the estate in
good order,” Malcolm was telling Warren by the time she drew her
attention back to the conversation. “You wouldn’t think it since
she doesn’t wear gaudy jewels and outlandish gowns like some
ladies, but I’ve had time to look over the ledger. It turns out she
is wise with money, and that’s important in a wife.”

Her eyebrows rose in interest. There went
that word again: important. It seemed to her everything revolved
around how important something was, and undeniably, that something
important had to do with money.

“Now, now, Malcolm,” she began in a
flirtatious tone, “you don’t want Warren and Lady Iris to think you
only value me for my money. I’m sure they’re more interested in my
flair for humor and my pleasant disposition.”

Warren chuckled. “Yes, you do have a flair
for humor. And ladies are necessary. How else would we have
children?”

Regan’s smile froze on her face. Oh good
heavens! Was that what he honestly thought?

“Well, children are delightful to have
around,” Malcolm said. “I can already tell Regan’s son will aspire
to great things. He’s intelligent for a four-year-old.”

Regan’s heart warmed at his assessment of her
son. Hearing such praise made this dreadful evening worth going
through.

The butler came in and announced, “Lord
Dunnaby and Miss Carlisle are here.”

“Excellent!” Warren clapped his hands and
turned to the group. “We can eat now.”