He nodded. “I do. And from your reaction, am I to conclude you are a reader?”
Hesitant to respond, Marian clasped her hands together. “Would you think less of me if I said yes?” she asked.
“I would think how fortunate I am to marry a woman with a brain,” he replied in awe. His expression faltered. “I must warn you that although there is a decent collection of fiction—my mother is a reader of gothic novels—the majority of the tomes are rather dry. ‘Modern Farming Techniques’ and ‘Animal Husbandry for the Gentleman Farmer’ come to mind,” he said on a wince.
Marian giggled. “Then I am sure to find something to read whilst you are engaged in the matters of your barony,” she replied. “But I should warn you that my reading has included many works of non-fiction. Works that might be considered...scandalousfor a woman of my age to have read.”
David blinked. “Would these scandalous books be of French origin, by chance?”
A blush colored her cheeks before Marian dipped her head. “With color plates,” she acknowledged.
David chuckled and then sobered. “I believe my library might include one or two of those books” he said before he cleared his throat. “Do you suppose there will be enough time for tea and a tour before we must be back to the Soho Club to be wed?” he asked with worry as he pulled his chronometer from his waistcoat pocket. “’Tis already half-past four o’clock.”
She grinned. “We do not, but who said anything about going back to the Soho Club this afternoon?” She arched a brow. “I should like to marry you on the morrow. After I’ve had the opportunity to purchase a suitable gown.”
David couldn’t help but hide his disappointment. “Oh. And... and in the meantime?” he stammered.
Marian stepped up to him and touched her lips to his. He immediately returned the kiss, his arms encircling her back as he pulled her hard against him. His fingers spread wide as they smoothed down to the small of her back, their tips following the bumps of her spine until it curved to the perfectly shaped globes of her bottom.
When he pulled away slightly, he touched his forehead to hers. “Why did you request a bedchamber for tomorrow night?” he asked in a whisper.
Marian glanced up at him through the curtains of her dark lashes. “I rather hoped I wouldn’t require my own for this evening,” she answered.
He swallowed. “Oh,” he said on a breath. His eyes darted sideways. “Because...?”
She angled her head to one side. “Perhaps I was hoping for an invitation to yours,” she murmured. “Especially since we’ll be having our dinner there.”
“Oh,” he said with excitement. ‘You have it, my sweet,” he replied quickly. “Always. An open invitation.”
Marian giggled again in an attempt to cover her nervousness. “Show me this house now, my dearest David, or we’re going to be making love right here on the hall floor,” she warned with a grin.
David chuckled, his smile widening as if he were imagining what she was suggesting. “My servants would all faint from shock,” he murmured as he offered his arm.
“For a moment there, I thoughtyouwere going to,” she said with a teasing grin.
“For a moment, I almost did,” he claimed on a guffaw. “Now, where do I start?” He glanced around the hall.
Lined with caryatids featuring the busts of various Roman emperors and small statuary of Greek gods, the floor of the hall was tiled with alternating black and white marble squares. “This is the hall, where if you have enough servants, you can play chess,” he said as he spread his arms. “Of course, we have to move the round table into this room first,” he said as he led her into the breakfast parlor.
Although there was a sideboard along one long wall and four chairs lined up along another, there was no table in the middle. “I take it you don’t have breakfast in here?” Marian asked as her brows crinkled.
“Only when we’re playing chess,” he replied with a wink. He quickly sobered. “I’ve had a table on order from Chippendale’s studio for nearly two years,” he said. “In the meantime, we’ve been eating breakfasts in the dining room.”
“I’ll have a word with Mr. Chippendale or one of his associates this week,” Marian stated.
David blinked. “You will?”
She angled her head to one side. “Do you object?”
He shook his head. “Not at all,” he replied, grinning as he led her to a small room that looked out on the front street. “The sitting room,” he said. “Faces east, so it has the morning light and none of the afternoon heat.”
Marian nodded approvingly before they moved to his study. “My haven,” he said as he moved to the desk and thumbed through a small stack of correspondence on a silver salver. “We have invitations,” he said as he popped the wax seal on one missive.
“Should I send our regrets?” Marian asked as she lifted one of the bright white notes and regarded the seal on the back with a critical eye.
“I rather imagine most of these have already taken place,” he murmured as he read an invitation to a ball that had occurred in April.
“I’ll see to the appropriate responses,” she said as she opened an invitation to a garden party. “When do you suppose we will be departing for Engleston Park?”
