He seemed relaxed, one hand at ease on the table, fingers light on the stem of his glass. “You’d have wars fought between scrupulously balanced armies?”
“I’d not have wars fought at all.”
He raised his glass and toasted her. “I crown you queen of the world. But are talents not of God’s providing?”
She shook her head. “No, please. Not a philosophical discussion this late in the day.” She glanced at the clock. Ten o’clock. Not so very late, but she couldn’t bear to draw this out any further.
“Time for bed,” she said. Damnation, the brandy had made her blunt.
But he responded, “It is.”
He rose, picked up the decanter and his glass, bowed slightly, and left.
Kitty rang for Henry, then drained the last of her brandy. She’d never expected to be so nervous about this.
Chapter 19
In his bedroom Braydon rang for Johns, still plagued by ridiculous uncertainties.
Nightshirt or no nightshirt?
He should probably have asked which she’d prefer, given that she was a plain-talking, experienced woman. Nightshirt would be the safe choice, but when had that ever been his way? Wise if possible, wary sometimes, but cowardly safety? No.
Even though they’d rarely touched, he was aware that she was a sensual woman. She showed it in the way she enjoyed sweet coffee, cake, and brandy. He saw it in her movements and her glances. She didn’t ogle him, but at times her gaze had heated his blood.
She’d been a widow for over two years, and he doubted that she’d sought consolation. No matter what her previous behavior, impropriety would have been close to impossible at Cateril Manor.
He didn’t even know what he wanted. If she was as hungry and passionate as he sensed, this night could be memorable. Too passionate, and it would support his fears that she’d not kept her marriage vows. Could a badly injured man have satisfied an adventurous wanton? He recognized a base instinct beneath these concerns. Whatever and whoever Kit Kat had experienced before, he needed to outdo every man jack of them.
Johns arrived with the washing water and the usual sour face.
“I’m not willingly lingering in the rural wasteland, Johns. Sometimes fate dictates.”
“Yes, milord.” Johns used “milord” rather than “sir” as a rebuke.
“In a while we’ll be able to spend more time in Town.”
“It is to be hoped for, milord.”
Braydon reined in his temper. To be picking a fight now was proof he was all on edge. Why? Kit Kat was a box of surprises, but she’d have no shocks for him in bed.
Then he remembered how often she’d surprised him.
To hell with it.
He dismissed his valet. His wife should have had enough time to prepare.
***
Kitty told herself there was nothing to be nervous about, but she couldn’t block awareness that she’d be coupling with a different man. After a day spent mostly in Braydon’s company, she felt she should know him, but the marble box remained closed. She liked him better, but she couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Or expecting.
Henry had undressed her and brushed out her hair in a way Kitty could only think of as motherly. How peculiar. The lady’s maid was unmarried, so Kitty could read her a lecture on the subject of marital duties.
Before her marriage to Marcus, her mother had not been particularly informative. She’d given a mechanical description of what would happen and then added, “If he’s able. If not, don’t mention it.”
It had all sounded so odd, Kitty hadn’t been sure which to hope for, but above all she’d been curious. She’d arrived at her delayed wedding night eager to learn more, but also eager to do her wifely duty. If he were able. She had lovedMarcus—adored him, in fact—and after a couple of days in his company, she’d been even more deeply devoted. He’d been so kind, so tender, and sograteful.
He’d also begun to touch her and kiss her in more intimate ways, which she’d enjoyed very much, so when the time came, she hadn’t been confused or fearful. She’d been carried along by love, desire, and Marcus’s kindness. She remembered that he’d apologized at least three times for the awkwardness. Despite the pain of losing her maidenhead, it had been lovely, and she’d learned how to do it better so that it brought both of them pleasure, despite his injuries.
