“Be still, my dear,” he said softly as he took his hands away. “I’m notgoing to rape you.”
He sat beside her on the bed. “You really are an innocent, aren’t you,Elizabeth?”
Beth nodded.
“You’re a damn fool,” he said almost angrily. Then he extended a fingerto wipe away one of her tears. “What have we done to that spirited MissArmitage I brought away from Cheltenham?”
Beth attempted a smile. “Turned her into a marchioness?”
He reached out and gently disentangled the tiara from her hair, tossingit carelessly on the bedside table. “So much for aristocratic grandeur.You know, my dear, it occurs to me that the duke has had it all his ownway so far. We are married. He has no more say as to how we conduct ourlives. I think you need a long period of repair before we progress toparenthood.”
No Mars and Venus, thought Beth hopefully. “Will you not mind?” sheasked.
“No,” he said gently, “I will not mind.” He sounded relieved.Perversely, Beth was a little hurt.
“But where will you sleep?” she asked.
“With you tonight. We don’t want to cause talk. A man can sleep with awoman without anything intimate occurring.” He collapsed down beside heron the bed, one arm over his eyes. “God. I’ve drunk too much.”
His manner was so easy, so natural, all Beth’s fears melted away andshe giggled. “I think I have, too. The champagne made me feel socarefree.” She found giggling suited her mood entirely and couldn’tstop.
“And what do you find so amusing, Elizabeth?” he asked, rolling ontohis side and grinning in sympathy.
“Beth,” said Beth as she tried to control her laughter.
“Beth?”
At last she succeeded and turned her head to look at him. “My name isBeth,” she said clearly.
“Why the deuce didn’t you say so before?”
Beth shrugged. “It was a symbol.”
He smiled. His blue eyes danced in the candlelight. “And now you’vetold me. Is that a symbol?”
“I suppose it is,” said Beth, finding it difficult to focus or keep hereyes open. “Friends?”
“Friends,” he said with a soft laugh and rolled her over to get at thebuttons on the back of her gown. “I’ve done this for many a friend beforenow.”
Beth was surprised at how little she cared that he undressed her ? herbody seemed a long, long way from her head. When she found herself slippednaked between the sheets, however, she giggled again. “How improper.”
“Not at all,” he said cheerfully. “No one would expect you to retainyour nightgown anyway. If you want to give the servants a thrill, I couldtear it a little.”
“But it was so expensive.”
“A curiosity of servants and a frugality of Armitages,” he said, and atthat moment it seemed profound. “Go to sleep, my sweet marchioness.”
With that he left the room. Beth found his advice sound and letoblivion claim her.
The marquess took the wine with him to his dressing room, and he downedanother glass as soon as he got there. Perhaps he should get thoroughlydrunk; it was said to remove the ability to perform, though he had neverexperienced that himself. Having promised his wife a platonic marriage,the process of undressing her had made him feel very unplatonic indeed.What a surprisingly lovely body she had ? Creamy white skin, firm, fullbreasts, long, shapely legs, and the pertest round rump he’d ever wantedto kiss and squeeze in his life . . .
He drank another glass of wine.
And she was an innocent. He supposed he’d known it for a while now, butshe was unlike the women he was accustomed to ? either worldly wise andexperienced, or naive virgins. She was quick-witted and intelligent andhad the ability to think for herself. He would never have sought out thosequalities in a wife, but now they appealed to him strongly.
Reading the Wollstonecraft woman’s books had given him insight, too. Hedidn’t agree with all she wrote, but there was enough sense there tointerest him. He was looking forward to an opportunity to discuss some ofthe questions raised.
He sighed. They’d probably have plenty of time for academic discussion.He’d rather be extending the education of his bluestocking bride in otherdirections, but she was not ready yet. She was a wounded bird, hisBeth.
