‘When I give offence, I apologise. And if I am offended? I have seen far too much killing to desire to do harm to someone over a petty slight.’
‘Do you lack moderation in your spending? Are you a dandy? Are you in debt? An intemperate gambler?’
‘No, no, and no,’ he said, and seemed surprised at the ease in the denials.
‘And despite what you fear of me, I am not unchaste or immoderate in dress or diet,’ she said.
‘I never thought you unchaste,’ he said hurriedly.
No. He’d merely thought her foolish. But that might change with time. And for now, she must do her best to prove him wrong.
‘Then what, precisely, are you convinced you need to guard against?’
He paused, as if trying to find the words. ‘Before I joined the army, there was a night where I came close to committing a sin more grave than any done by the rest of my family.’ He paused again. He looked like a man on the verge of confession.
She held up a hand. ‘You do not have to tell me, you know. Whatever it was, it is in the past.’
‘That is true,’ he agreed, though he did not seem to believe it.
‘And very nearly doing something is not the same as doing it,’ she reminded him. ‘Did you join the army to prevent further temptation?’
His silence to this was answer enough.
‘If you have not succumbed to temptation since returning to London, then your character has improved,’ she said. ‘But you have become overly cautious about small infractions because you have been living in fear.’
‘I fear nothing,’ he said without hesitation.
‘No man,’ she agreed. ‘I suspect there is no physical threat you could not face without blinking. But you are afraid of becoming as careless as the rest of your family. If you have not done so by now, despite the opportunities presented at Vitium et Virtus, I think you are probably safe from precipitous changes in character.’
He was staring at her in surprise, as if the idea had never occurred to him that he was not wicked to the core.
She used his silence to press her advantage. ‘While I doubt I will ever be as conventional as you wish for me to be, I promise that I will not intentionally behave in a way that would damage your reputation.’
‘Excellent.’ He agreed almost too quickly. ‘Now that we are in agreement we will live together as ordinary husbands and wives do. Let us have no more talk of separate lives or houses. From now on, we will be happy together.’ He stood up and walked to her side of the table to kiss her on the top of her head, just as she did to Sargent, when he as being particularly good.
* * *
Perhaps living in London had been the problem all along. They should have come to the country right after the wedding. It seemed to Fred that his wife’s behaviour had changed for the better the moment he had suggested the trip.
He had assumed she would be like all other women of his experience, in constant need of social stimulation. But it seemed she would rather be in the garden or galloping in the woods, than parading on Rotten Row, or bundling herbs in the still room instead of shopping for ribbons.
But if he was honest, he felt the same. He thanked God often that he had not been saddled with a seat in Parliament, talking about doing things rather than picking up a sword and wading into battle. Nor was he eager to take on the minutiae of bookkeeping at Vitium et Virtus as Jake had done.
She had pleased him in other ways as well. He had assumed there would be difficulties because of her youth and inexperience, but she ran the house as efficiently as an army quartermaster. She had no trouble understanding what was expected of her and was quick to learn any skills that she lacked.
And in one aspect of marriage, they suited perfectly. Since the night by the pond, she had risen from his bed each morning, hair tousled by the vigour of their lovemaking, throat reddened by the force of his kisses. This morning, she’d cast a look at him over her shoulder as if daring him to take her again.
And he had. He had scrambled from the bed, grabbed her by the waist, and dragged her back to the mattress, entering her and spending like a green boy on his first time. Rather than being shocked at the briefness of the encounter, she had laughed at him, trailing a finger down his chest and teasing herself to orgasm. Then she had taken him in hand and brought him back to life so they might begin again, but slower.
Perhaps his friends were right and he had more in common with Georgiana than he’d first thought. He had not felt so alive in years.
But pleasant though it might be, he could not devote the whole of his waking life to her. He had promised his friends he would not walk away from his role at the club. If the masquerade planned for the following evening was to run smoothly, it would be necessary for him to attend. And though he had no intention of allowing his wife to set his comings and goings, he could not just disappear without notice.
Since she made a habit of long walks, he had to search half the property to find her. Eventually he was drawn to the lower meadow by the sound of another of her one-sided conversations with Sargent.
‘We could have more fun together if you had a ball, or a rag to pull on, or any other plaything. You poor dog.’
Of course, the dog had no idea what she was saying. But he was wagging his tail as if he had never met a more wonderful person in his life and would gladly learn English if it would make her happy.
