Page 31

After Ian’s clipped retort, Vangie fell silent. With those few words he’d made his feelings all too clear.

He sat across from her, his sheer male essence permeating the coach. The sun had bid the day adieu, but dusk lent a faint glow to the plush interior of the comfortable conveyance. She knew without looking, he stared at her with a steady, assessing gaze. He did indeed remind her of a large cat, and she was his quarry.

Despite the mild evening and the light shawl over her shoulders, a shiver stole through her. She daren’t look at him but kept her gaze firmly riveted on the dim, unimpressive view beyond the carriage window. He seemed as disinclined to converse as she. Considering his last rude remark, she was most grateful for the small consideration.

Clasping her hands in her lap, Vangie nibbled her lower lip. She was determined to ask Lord Warrick to wait to claim his conjugal rights. At least until they grew to know one another a mite more. Or better yet, a great deal more. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask, was it? She’d every intention of consummating the marriage, just not quite yet.

Wouldn’t his lordship be uncomfortable with such extreme intimacies with a stranger? Uncomfortable didn’t begin to express her feelings on the matter. It was preposterous. People simply didn’t engage in that with someone they didn’t know.

She fidgeted with her reticule strings, twisting the crocheted strands round, and round her fingers. Aunt Adélaid hadn’t been altogether specific about what that was, and Vangie had tried very hard not to listen by reciting Romani phrases in her head the whole while her aunt was speaking.

“I must be honest. It is a smidgen embarrassing the first time.”

The droppings of the flying bird never fall twice on the same spot.

“Or he might prefer you completely unclothed.”

It is easier to milk a cow that stands still.

“Don’t be alarmed. A spot of blood is quite normal.”

You cannot walk straight when the road is bent.

“Joiningcan be wondrous.”

Beauty cannot be eaten with a spoon.

Vangie had still heard more than she wanted. The act had something to do with being naked and joining.She wasn’t completely ignorant for pity’s sake. She’d seen the chickens and geese mating in the enclosure behind her cottage, and once as a child, she’d seen a mare being bred while in the Romani encampment.

She shuddered. What was the pecking and biting about? And the noises? The squawking and grunting? It appeared rather violent, and it seemed to her, the females found the whole of it rather trying. Faith, she couldn’t imagine people engaged in that sort ofbehavior. She furrowed her brow. Truth to tell, she expected it must be wholly different for men and women when they coupled.

She cast a surreptitious glance at her husband. As if alerted, he turned his gaze from perusing the passing scenery and caught her peeking at him.

His firm lips quirked at the corners. Sensual. Mocking.

Heat swept up her cheeks. Dash it all, she was blushing again.

His smile widened. He knew it too, wretched man. Did he just wink?

Fresh warmth skimmed to the roots of her hair. She’d blushed more in the past week than in her entire life. It was most annoying. And revealing.

Clenching her hands once more, she squeezed the ring Lord Warrick slipped onto her finger during the ceremony. The band felt foreign. Everything was strange now. This man who was her husband. Where she’d live. The people she’d share a home with. The company she’d now keep.

Exhausted as she was, the gentle rocking of the carriage lulled Vangie into drowsiness. She rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes. A sudden disturbing thought trickled into her mind. Would Ian allow visits with her Romani relatives? Would he be among those who treated the Roma shabbily, as if they were an inferior people?

Did he know her heritage? Would he care?

The carriage rumbled to a stop. Her eyes flew open, and her stomach cavorted as a thousand dragonflies zipped around her ribs. The carriage door opened, revealing a royal blue liveried footman and a modish townhouse in an opulent section of town.

Ian descended first. “Thank you, Lowell.” He swiveled back to the carriage then reached into the darkened vehicle. He grasped Vangie’s hand, assisting her to the ground.

Could he feel her trembling?

Propelling her along by the elbow, he escorted her into the brightly-lit townhouse. In the foyer, the staff stood in a straight line, ready to greet their new mistress.

Vangie smiled and nodded, at least she thought she did, though she couldn’t remember any of their names except perhaps the butler, Flinch, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Porker.

Oh dear, that cannot be right. Mayhap it’s Mrs. Perky.