Page 35 of A Marriage of Necessity

Anne had hoped for time alone with Kennedy, again. Her cheeks warmed at the thought.Would he think her loose now? Was a wife supposed to enjoy her husband so much?He certainly seemed to enjoy his time with her. Was this what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life? “

What had his father said? “It hadn’t occurred to me you might be beautiful, but the fact that you are will hold Kennedy’s interest for a while.” If his father spoke the truth, how long before Kennedy tired of her? What would she do when he took other lovers? I thought struck. Did he have a mistress? Her heart sank. Of course, he did. A man like him always had a mistress.

She was a fool. He bore no particular affection for her. He only married because his father commanded that he sire an heir as quickly as possible. Perhaps he was enjoying himself in the process. Perhaps once their son was born, he would lose interest in her altogether.

He wasn’t home because he had no interest in seeing her, and here she was waiting for him in his study. Thank God, he hadn’t come home and found her waiting. Not only would she feel like a fool, she would look like a fool. She closed her book and rose. A knock sounded on the door, then the door opened and the butler entered.

“Forgive me, my lady, but there is a boy here who insists upon seeing his lordship.”

“Kennedy isn’t here,” she said.

“I am aware he is no’ at home,” Mr. Bingham said. “But the boy insists that he will not leave until he has seen Lord Buchanan.”

“What does he want with the viscount?” she asked.

Mr. Bingham shook his head. “He refuses to say. “

“Perhaps he will tell me. Show him in, please.”

He bowed and left. Anne sat back down on the divan and, a moment later, Mr. Bingham returned with a tall lad of about fourteen years of age, dressed in britches and a rough woolen coat. He reminded her of a stable hand.

Anne remain seated as the boy approached. “I am Lady Anne,” she said. “What is this message you have for my husband?”

The boy stopped near the table in front of the divan. “It’s from his sister,” he said.

“His sister?” Anne snapped her gaze onto the butler, who was closing the door. “Mr. Bingham, wait, please.”

He paused. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Does his lordship have a sister?”

“Aye, my lady. Lady Rose. She lives with the earl.”

Why hadn’t Kennedy mentioned her? Why hadn’t she attended their wedding? Why hadn’t they met her at the ball? She hesitated. She needed to hear what the boy had to say, but she felt completely lost.

“Mr. Bingham, will you wait outside the door, please?”

“Of course, my lady.” He stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

Anne returned her attention to the boy. “What is your name?”

“Matthew, my lady.”

She smiled. “Matthew, what is the message?”

The boy stubbornly shook his head. “Lady Rose specifically instructed me to tell no one but her brother.”

Anne pinned him with a hard stare. “I assume the message is important or you wouldn’t be here refusing to leave.”

“Aye, ma’am, very important.

“Too important to delay in delivering?” she pressed.

His brows knit in uncertainty. “It’s devilish important—begging your pardon, my lady.”

“Never mind that,” she said. “I’m sure Lady Rose thought his lordship would be home. But he isn’t, and we can’t say when he will return. If it’s important, perhaps ye had better tell me. I am his wife, so there is little difference between telling him and telling me.” Normally, she wasn’t nosy, but intense curiosity—and more than a little frustration—made her want to hear the message.

The young man considered. “I suppose ye might be right. Lady Rose sounded very desperate.” His expression grew serious. “But if I tell you, I must still tell his lordship.” He stood straighter. “I promised, and a gentleman never breaks his word to a lady.”