Page 25 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

“Oh my dear. That never crossed my mind. However, I told you I have done quite a bit of reading on influenza. Perhaps just this once, you can adhere to my superior knowledge?”

Arabella snorted. “Superior knowledge, indeed.” She crossed her arms under her breasts.

Nash’s jaw dropped, and he licked his lips.

“What?” Seeing where he gawked, she looked down and was appalled that her crossed arms were shoving her breasts upward, making the brown nipples that pressed against the fabric visible through her nightgown. She dropped her arms and pulled the sheet up to her neck.

Heat climbed from her stomach to her face. Alarmed, she realized the heat was not only embarrassment, but a sense of unease and excitement in her stomach at the look on her husband’s face. “You may leave now.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. I think I will check on breakfast.” He jumped up from the bed and practically ran out the door, forgetting no doubt he was without boots and a shirt. He returned within seconds and sheepishly grabbed his boots and shirt and left again.

Arabella flopped down on the bed. She did feel a lot better, but truth be known, she was still sick and weak. A few days in bed would not be a bad idea. She could have her furry friends visit, and do some needlework and read. After the stress of the betrothal and quick wedding, a little bit of rest would be a good thing.

…

After five days with no return of the fever, Arabella left her bed and ordered a bath. During his daily visits, Nash had told her that once she was recovered, they would take a trip to Suffolk. He wanted to speak in person with his steward and go over his books. He’d begun to believe there was something untoward going on, that had begun sometime before his father had died.

He’d sat on the edge of her bed, all arrogance and self-importance. “Once I’ve decided you are well enough, we will make the trip to Suffolk”

She felt the heat rise to her face at his condescension. “Once you have decided?” Why did he continue to behave as though she were a muddle-headed half-wit?

He looked at her, genuinely confused. “What have I done wrong this time?”

“You don’t even know, do you?” Arabella had never felt the need to inflict violence upon a person. Until she

’d met Nash.

“I am an adult. I can certainly determine if I am in robust enough health to travel to Suffolk.”

Nash snorted. “I do not attribute wise decisions to you, Wife.” He stood and straightened his jacket. “However, I believe you are most likely ready to travel.” With those commanding words, he bowed and left the room. Arabella picked up the book she’d been reading and hurled it at the door.

She slapped her hands on the bed. Oh, to smack that smile off his arrogant face. She collapsed back onto the pillows. Since she was not quite ready to face Society, anyway, she was more than happy to comply with his request. She just resented the way he’d phrased his words. If only the man had asked if she were up to the trip, instead of telling her he would decide when they would go, and that she should be packed and ready when he felt the time was right.

Nash had taken to sleeping in her bed each night. He said it was because he wanted to be sure her fever didn’t return. Each morning she awoke with his arms wrapped around her, his hands wandering over her body. She’d pushed his hands away, but each time it grew harder and harder to do so. Truth be known, that glance of his naked backside had started her wondering what the rest of him looked like. The feel of his warm flesh under her hands had her anticipating their joining.

She’d spent enough time around animals to know how things worked. The feelings he’d elicited from her body when he touched and fondled her had her more than ready to discover the rest of it.

It was a long day of taking a tour of the house with the housekeeper, Mrs. McGregor, and consulting with Cook on menus for when they returned. After all of that, Arabella looked forward to reaching her bed, still feeling weak. Nash had not yet told her when they would be leaving, but since she was up and about, most likely it would be soon. When she questioned him, Nash assured her that any remaining weakness would be the last symptom to disappear. He also took that opportunity to remind her she had grumbled about spending three days in bed.

Now she sat in front of the mirror in her new bedchamber, studying her expression. She was certain this would be the night. Sophia had just left her after helping with her bath and brushing her hair into a shiny gloss that fell in waves to caress her shoulders. She wore a lovely new night rail—white, with small pink flowers embroidered along the scandalously low neckline. Her husband would be pleased with her appearance.

Attempting to distract herself, she looked around the room. During the time of her illness, she hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings, keeping the bed drapes closed most of the time while she’d taken one nap after another.

Her things had been moved into the dowager countess’s former space. During one of their conversations when he’d visited her, Nash had told her she was free to redecorate and rearrange to her own taste. She did not see that much needed to be done. The walls had been covered in tasteful green and rose silk wallpaper. The highly polished wooden floor was partially covered by rose and green patterned carpets.

All the wood trim in the bedchamber, along with the fireplace, had been painted white. The space had been brought together with draperies and bedding in white, rose, and green. With her own belongings now in the wardrobe, perfumes and creams lined up on the dressing table, and her favorite pens and journal adorning the small escritoire tucked into a corner, she felt very much at home.

The sounds of Nash moving around the room and speaking with his valet next door reminded her of the fact that after tonight she would be his wife in truth. Mother had assumed this would be the night Nash would insist on his husbandly rights, since she’d been up and about all day, and she’d come to offer a bit of motherly advice. The short, hurried words she’d practically whispered had made it difficult not to roll her eyes. “Just do your duty. Lie still, don’t complain, and it will soon be over.”

Her eyes flew to the door between their rooms as it slowly opened.

Chapter Eight

Nash tightened the belt on his banyan and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d given his bride enough time. If he waited much longer, he would most likely have absolutely no control when he finally bedded her, since the last few mornings he’d had a very hard time keeping his hands off her.

He opened the door connecting their rooms to find her sitting in front of the mirror. He licked his suddenly dry lips. Her golden-brown hair cascaded over her shoulders to rest halfway down her back in waves. A slight flush rose to her cheeks as she regarded him with her hazel eyes.

Either she was cold or his appearance had already stirred her, since her nipples were prominent against the silky material of her nightgown. Seeing where his eyes had wandered, she wrapped her arms around her breasts, covering the lovely sight.