Page 52 of Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love 1)

As Nash left, Sally entered holding the bottle of laudanum and a spoon. “It will do you well to have a rest now, my lady.”

“She is correct.” Devon stood, and she immediately felt the loss of his warmth and comfort. “You need to rest. I will leave you to attend to matters and see you in a few hours.”

Unlike her brother’s quick buss on her cheek, Devon leaned in and kissed her on the lips, a nice, solid kiss. She startled at his show of affection in front of Sally, then felt the need to kick herself when he pulled back and apologized. He straightened and nodded at her once before leaving the room. She desperately wanted to call him back and tell him she had enjoyed his kiss, and it had merely been her surprise that made her react the way she had.

Drat, she’d ruined it!

…

Devon headed downstairs, chastising himself for embarrassing Eugenia in front of her maid. What had he been thinking? Just because she’d begun to wear clothing more suited to her age and station, and styled her hair differently, didn’t mean she would welcome his advances before witnesses.

He eyed the brandy bottle in the drawing room. Deciding it was much too early, and needing to get away from the house for only a couple of hours while Eugenia slept, he left instructions with Bellows on where he would be and headed to White’s.

I believe your husband is beginning to sound like a besotted fool.

Nash’s words still stung. He had never intended to have the sort of marriage where either he or his wife were bothered with love. Such marriages allowed for all sorts of emotions with which he was not prepared to deal, and were certainly not good ton. At least, according to his father’s dictates.

He turned his horse over to the stable master at the mews behind the club and entered just as Lord Redgrave and his brother-in-law, the Duke of Manchester, strolled up. Both men were known in the ton as men seriously taken with their wives. Although each man was formidable in his own right, neither one looked at all uncomfortable as they made their way to the billiard room, grinning at invectives from members about their wives allowing them out of the house.

Shrugging, he found a seat and requested coffee and the newspaper. Soft murmuring from members, the swish of newspaper pages turning, and the clink of glasses and cups soothed him from his unease.

He’d nearly lost his breakfast when he’d seen Eugenia take a tumble from her horse. Dear God, the woman could have broken her neck. He had tried to tell himself his upset was due to the affection he felt for his wife and his reluctance to be in a position to have to find another bride.

However, a little voice that he had managed to quell all morning now rose to the forefront, insisting he would be more than a bit inconvenienced if anything were to happen to Eugenia. We rub together well, he told the little voice. She is worming her way into your heart, the little voice retorted.

Nonsense. He could certainly be married and be respectful and affectionate to his wife without following her about like a nincompoop.

Sort of like Redgrave and Manchester? The argument continued. They certainly did not look like fools striding through the club, practically taking command of the room with their mere presence. No buffoons, those two.

“Devon, I hear your lady took a spill this morning.” Lord Richmond stood in front of him, a stupid grin on his dissipated face. The viscount spent most of his time chasing married women, drinking himself into a coma, and gambling away everything not entailed. Although certainly not one of his favorite people, since Devon seemed to be losing the quarrel with his little voice, he waved to the chair across from him.

“Yes, she did.”

Richmond sat and attempted to pull the two sides of his jacket closed over his protruding belly. The buttons looked as if they would fly across the space and take out Devon’s eye at any moment. He continued to shift his bulk around as he waved to the footman for a brandy. “I see you’re drinking coffee, but I need an eye-opener myself.”

The servant barely had the glass in front of Richmond before he drained it and waved it around for a refill.

“Hitting that stuff pretty early, eh?” Devon took the final sip of his coffee and set the cup down.

“Bad morning already,” Richmond said. “Met with my man of business, and it looks like he needs to find some better investments. M’pockets are bleeding empty.”

Since Richmond’s way of life had more to do with his empty purse than with his man’s investment choices, Devon remained silent. Some statements needed no comment.

“Might be time for me to find a rich bride and get leg-shackled.” Richmond drained another glass and set it aside. “Have my eye on Lady Amelia.”

Devon’s brows rose. “Duncannon’s daughter?”

Richmond nodded. “Yes. Heard Duncannon’s increasing her dowry.” He grinned. “Not too pleasant to look at, but in the dark, who cares? One can do his duty, then go his own way.” He signaled for another drink. “That’s the way of it, eh?”

A wave of disgust washed over Devon at Richmond’s words. Yet, in all fairness, wasn’t that precisely how he had always viewed marriage? What he’d been taught to consider marriage? Perhaps not in such a vulgar way, but there it was. Do your duty and go your own way. He had intended to have respectful caring for Eugenia, perhaps even af

fection, but never a great passion, love, nor to live in each other’s pockets.

Now, it seemed, he was second-guessing himself, along with the way of life he’d always assumed would be his. He continued to struggle with an explanation for his surprising distaste for sexual fulfillment with Margaret once he’d married. And the conundrum he now faced with desiring his wife in a lustful, ungentlemanly way.

His thoughts continued to wander, leading him in circles as Richmond waxed on about the horror of having to marry.

…