“They are more your mother’s jewels than mine.”
As he glanced down at her bare neck, he found himself tempted to run his fingers along it, to see if she would shiver the way he imagined she would. Ever since that first night, when he had looked down at her in that flimsy nightgown, he had been aware of something he hadn’t before.
Attraction.
He hadn’t known, until that moment, how soft and lush her body was, and what her hair looked like when it fell over her shoulders. He hadn’t known how tempting it would be to kiss lips that had parted for him almost as an invitation.
But they had agreed their relationship would not be along those lines; she was his friend, not his lover, and she was very clearly looking elsewhere for entertainment. He could not force himself on her now.
Yet as he met her gaze in her reflection, his fingers itched with the urge to touch her and explore just how responsive she could be.
“Those jewels belong to the Duchess of Norfolk,” he said,tucking his hands behind his back to remove all temptation. “As that is now your title, they belong to you. And they would go delightfully with your dress.”
She didn’t so much as glance at them. “They’re a little heavy.”
“I see.”
Her throat tightened as she swallowed, but she merely continued rubbing her wrists together.
“I have made my opinion about Sir Montague plain,” he said, watching her face in the mirror. Her lips parted in a sharp, soundless gasp, but she otherwise didn’t move. “Will you not trust my judgement on this?”
For the first time, she twisted to face him fully, and although he had every intention of focusing on the matter at hand, the dipped neckline of the dress was particularly enticing, and there was a becoming flush on her face.
“Your judgement?” she asked, her voice tight. “And why should I trust your judgement on Sir Montague when you wereconsortingwith another lady right before my eyes?”
“Mrs Stanton—”
“Is also associated with Sir Montague. If she is allowed to make his acquaintance, I hardly see why I should not.”
He had seen Juliet and Montague together—that was part of the reason he had consented to speak with her in a way he would not usually have done. But if anything, that was another reason why Theoshouldn’tassociate with Sir Montague.
“Because Mrs Stanton is not a lady,” he said. “And Sir Montague is not, as I can verify from experience, a gentleman.”
“And what?” she enquired, arching a brow, “makes a gentleman, if Sir Montague is not and you are?”
He bit back his anger. “If you must ask that question, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Don’t speak to me as if I were a child.”
“Would you rather I treated you as my wife?” A dangerous question; a wife sitting before him with such mingled hurt and defiance in her eyes called for more than he could give.
Even if, at that moment, he would have very much liked to give it.
“I would rather you treated me as an equal.”
Theywereequals. They were friends. Or at least, they had been before this maddening interlude. Was this another thing he risked losing to this sham of a marriage? Frustrated, he turned and paced the room as she continued to powder her little nose, her back tight. When he next glanced at her,however, he sighed and slowed, coming to stand behind her once more. “I didn’t come here to argue with you, Theo.”
“No, you merely came here to order me about.” She put both hands on her lap and kept her gaze steadfastly on her reflection. “When you asked me to marry you, we agreed we would not intrude on each other’s private lives. You showed no interest in me before, and there is no need to start now.”
“The difference is now you are my wife.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “I did not think that was going to change things so much.”
Neither had he, but that was before. Before Montague had made his way back to London, before he had known what it might feel like to want the lady he was bound to forever more. Those factors complicated matters, and he wasn’t certain precisely how he would navigate them. What hewantedwas an uncomplicated marriage and a cousin far, far away. Neither of those things had come to pass; now, it felt as though he was fighting for a sliver of his wife’s attention.
But, if he did not, Montague would be sure to claim it. She was ready, in fact, for him to claim it. Nathanial could not let that happen.
Further discussion would be fruitless, however, so he merely said, “You should wear the diamonds,” and left the room.
