Page 55 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘And yet you use it with me?’

Hell. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he said stiffly. ‘And I still don’t have any pearls.’

She gave one of those secretive little smiles that always instantly stoked his desire. He tamped it down. Now was not the time or the place. Though he was hoping tonight would be.

Damn it all. That was not what he wanted to think about just now. If she thought she could manipulate him with a smile, she needed to rethink her strategy.

‘I have a necklace and earrings, given to me by my mother.’

‘I doubt they’d be fine enough.’

‘You haven’t seen them.’

Hadn’t seen them? He hadn’t even heard about them. They had not been mentioned in the marriage settlement. They could not be worth much.

‘They were passed down through my mother’s family, eldest daughter to eldest daughter. If I don’t have one, then they go to a daughter of my sisters. It’s a tradition that has been going on since the time of the Stuarts. They will do very nicely.’ She rang the bell.

A few minutes later, her maid popped in by way of the dressing room.

‘Bring my jewellery box, please, Cole.’ Florence walked to the table by the window and picked up one of the small figurines scattered on its surface of a spaniel gazing upwards. ‘My mother liked these little fairings. My sisters and I bought her several when we were small, with the few pennies we were given to spend at the fair. She always made such a fuss of them.’

He groaned inwardly. If that was her idea of fine china, he could only imagine what these pearls would be like.

Cole returned with a wooden box shaped to look like a barrel and set it on the dressing table. ‘Will there be anything else, my lady?’ she asked.

‘No, thank you.’

When she had departed, Florence opened the chest. A red silk lining cast a pink blush on the pearls inside, a lustrous choker of large pearls, four strings of them with a diamond clasp.

‘My God,’ he said. ‘Those are beautiful.’

The smile that wreathed her face was also beautiful; it lit her eyes and face and the pearls changed colour to a soft, warm, yellowish gold, almost as if they reflected her joy.

They were unexpectedly lovely. She held them up to her throat, and he could see exactly why she thought they would be perfect for her gown. They lay around her throat, emphasising the lovely expanse of skin to the scooped neckline of her gown. Not too low a scoop, but enough to hint at the delights beneath. Delights he could not stop thinking about, even though he had refrained from visiting her again.

He could not let her think she had some sort of power over him. Not the way he had with Eloise. He would not allow his wife to think him weak.

‘You are right,’ he admitted. ‘They are perfect. Allow me.’ He went behind her and fastened the clasp, a small, silver rectangle set with tiny diamonds, like a shoe buckle. Her scent rose up around him, light, floral and uniquely her. A few small hairs curled on her nape, little wayward strands disobeying what must be an army of pins in her hair. Without thinking, he pressed a kiss to that delectable, creamy spot where her neck joined so sweetly to her shoulders.

She shivered and gasped. The sound tightened his body and made his thoughts fracture. How deliciously responsive she was to his touch. He had the urge to forget about the damn ball and remove all but that choker and take her to bed.

He froze. Did he have no control when it came to this woman, his wife? If he did not, would he soon find himself dancing to her tune? Oh, no. That was not going to happen.

He stepped back.

She turned and the soft expression nearly had him undone. ‘Have your maid see to the earrings and I will meet you downstairs.’

The hurt look in her eyes gave him pause. But he wasn’t going to let her manipulate him, to twine him around her little finger.

Their marriage must never be more than a convenience—as they had agreed.

Chapter Twelve

‘Tonight will be a terrible crush,’ Lady Blackdown said from her corner of the carriage.

Florence turned from observing the passing countryside gilded by the setting sun. While the duke had a townhouse not far from their own, this grand ball of his was taking place at his country house located on the way to Richmond. ‘Why bother to go, then?’

Her mother-in-law spluttered. ‘The Fanshaws are one of the most influential families in the realm! If you are acceptable to the Fanshaws, you must be acceptable to everyone; everyone who counts. It would be thought we were not invited if we did not go.’