"And in return, I have to pretend to be your wife and be madly in love with you. Especially at that house party." Ellen swallowed. "How long do you think we'll stay married?"
Tewkbury frowned. "As long as it takes. We may have to accept a few extra invitations, go to a ball at most, but I daresay it won't be much. West, my man of business, will draw up some paper to be signed; some sort of agreement on the, er, nature of this transaction."
That sounded awkward, but that was what it was, wasn't it? Ellen nodded. "Let's do it," she said firmly. "One more thing."
"Yes?"
She looked at him hesitantly. "I need to do some shopping for Noni. There is nothing in this house that is suitable for the child. He needs toys and school supplies."
"Yes, yes." The last thing he wanted was to be pestered with details of her lessons. "Buy whatever you need, and for heaven's sake, go to Madame Minion immediately. But don't involve me in any of this."
She pursed her lips in disapproval. "A good guardian would be interested in the welfare of his ward."
He curled his lips into a sarcastic smile. "As you have no doubt noticed, I am not a good guardian." He bowed and stepped quickly out into the foyer, lest she continue to harass him with further details of his flawed sense of responsibility.
"Very well, sir." She turned.
A whiff of something entered his nostrils. "Stop."
"Sir?"
A scent that eluded him, that he could not identify.
He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. What was it?
He turned, stepped up to her, took her hand, twisted it, and raised it to his nose.
He heard her gasp, but he closed his eyes and concentrated on the warm, feminine scent. Myrtle, lemon blossom, coconut oil and ... something else. Something floral, sweet. But fleeting.
He looked up fully into her big round eyes, her eyebrows drawn together, her head tilted in confusion, her cheeks burning scarlet.
It occurred to him he was standing with the schoolmistress in the middle of the foyer, and to any outsider it would appear that he had pressed her wrist to his mouth in a passionate, lingering kiss.
He dropped her hand as if it had burned him.
"It's nothing," he muttered and made his way out of the house.
That scent. What was it?
He could not rid himself of the smell and the feeling of tender skin on the inside of her wrist. It had been creamy and soft and silky.
He got into his carriage and thought about it the entire trip to the Doctors' Commons, the law courts south of St Paul's, to obtain the special licence.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It took Ellen a good while to compose herself after the baron had left.
What on earth had that been all about?
He'd appeared out of nowhere, a garish vision of colour and elegance. Was it elegance? She wasn't even sure. He was certainly an eyeful, and one couldn't help but stare when he'd suddenly appeared. He'd seemed disapproving, and she'd felt terribly self-conscious in her old dress and worn-out boots. He had also disapproved of Noni, which she couldn't countenance.
But she'd agreed to his proposal.
They would have to pretend to be in love. Good heavens!
It was an unconventional proposal. It was thoroughly improper; but by pretending to be his wife, it eliminated the awkwardness that would have resulted if she'd stayed with Noni as a mere governess in a bachelor's household. After all, what difference would it make? They would still lead separate lives. She'd be teaching and caring for Noni, not having to worry about her reputation. As a married lady with a title, people would treat her with more respect. She'd receive sufficient funds to set aside for a stable future. Drake would be helped. It was a good thing, even a blessing. The baron's proposal had saved her entire family.
But then he'd taken her hand and sniffed at her wrist. He'd clasped it tightly, and she'd noticed that his hands were broad, and his nails were trimmed to perfect ovals, and were not at all feminine as one might expect, but graceful and strong.
