An Undomesticated Wife Part 23

The dowager d.u.c.h.ess set herself on her feet, kissed her grandson firmly on the cheek, and ignored his grimace of discomfort. "Do you think Elayne is over her swoons? I want to talk to her about the table arrangements for the wedding breakfast."

"Regina?"

At the sound of her name, she turned to look back at Marcus. An odd shade of gray tinted his normally healthy skin.

"You should rest," she said.

"A moment with you first."

She glanced at the duke, and he nodded. Wishing him a good night, she went back to sit next to her husband. She said nothing when he gestured Andrews out of the room.

"Regina, there is much to be said between us," he murmured.

"Most of which can wait until you have recovered from that blow to your skull."

"d.a.m.n my head!" He erupted from his chair. "I wish to speak with you."

"Marcus, you seem unlike yourself."

"I am exactly like myself."

As a renewed wave of tears filled her eyes, she silently agreed. He was acting like the man she first had met, for he barely let her say a word without exploding, and he belittled any of her opinions. She wondered if he could ever again be the gentle lover who had been so wonderfully considerate while they were at the cottage.

"Mayhap that is so," she said softly, "but I have no interest in sitting here and being harangued about my stupidity for chasing after you this morning."

"That was stupid."

"Was it?" she shot back with the same heat. "Benjamin would have killed you if you had arrived first, then taken me."

"He told you that?"

She almost laughed at his amazement. "Diplomacy is not a game for the weak at heart, Marcus."

"Nor is being married to you." Taking her hands, he drew her to her feet. "That is why there must be an understanding between us before we repeat our vows in front of all of Grandmother's friends."

She pulled away and shook her head. "I must live my life as I see fit."

Marcus swallowed the curse battering at his tongue. Why didn't she let him finish a single thought before she leapt in? "Regina, listen before you say anything."

"No!" She did not wipe away the tears that overflowed from her eyes. "I have listened to you quietly for too long! I would have gladly loved you, Marcus Aurelius Octavius Whyte, but you don't want my love. You want a perfectly trained wife who will leave you free to enjoy the life you have had." She touched the center of her chest. "Even though I have given you my heart, I can still feel it ache when I think of you going to call on Mrs. Simpson."

"Regina-"

"No! I shall not be hurt again!" she cried. Whirling away, she ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

Marcus released the curse as he touched his aching head. What an air-dreamer he had been to think he could mold Regina into the wife he wanted! Dropping back into the chair, he stared out the window at the street. He should have known it would come to this impa.s.se. Mayhap he had, but at the outset he could not have guessed how miserable he would feel about it ... nor how miserable he would be at the thought that he had lost her love before realizing how much he wanted it.

He wished he had some idea how to salvage something from this complete muddle of a marriage.

Jocelyn Simpson heard the door to the street open but did not get out of bed. Checking her appearance in a silver hand mirror she kept on her bedside table, she smiled. Her hair was in dark curls around her face, and the cosmetics gave her a fresh look that suggested she was several years younger than the truth. She rearranged the wide sleeves of her white silk wrapper. The ruffles at the cuffs were nearly two inches deep.

She tapped her fingers impatiently against her lap desk as she heard the familiar voice in the foyer. Marcus! Once he had been such a fervent lover, eager to give her anything she asked for, and she had asked for much. He had not come to her without a gift. She looked about her boudoir. Bonnets, gloves, shawls-her favorite, the paisley one of Indian cotton-even baubles of jewelry were set on the tables. Each had been a gift from Marcus to her.

But twice now he had come to call without even a hint of a gift. If this was the third time that he forgot how much delight gifts brought her, she must reconsider Major Cook's offer that she become his particular. The major was plump in the pockets. With his wife safely ensconced in distant Yorkshire, he had plenty of time to devote himself to a mistress. She was becoming more and more exasperated with the idea that Marcus had not sent his pretty wife off to gra.s.sville. Not only had he gone away with her for more than a month, but he had allowed her to invade Jocelyn's home only two days ago. He needed to rid himself of a wife with such uncommon ideas.

The thought made her smile as the door opened, and her footman bowed Marcus into her bedchamber. When she saw he held his hands behind his back, her smile widened. Mayhap he had seen the error of his ways. She did have affection for Marcus, possibly because he knew exactly what he wanted and would not be halted from having things just that way.

She held up her face, and he kissed her cheek. "How good to see you, Marcus! I hope you plan to stay longer than your last visit."

When his lips tightened, she hid her smile. Her point had struck home, exactly as she wished. Next time, he would not scurry away with his wife as if he was embarra.s.sed to be seen in his mistress's company.

"Do sit and tell me what is abuzz among the ton," she said, patting the bed.

When he pulled up a chair and sat facing her, she could not keep from frowning. She did not see any gift in his hand. Mayhap it was beneath his russet coat.

"I had hoped that you could tell me," he said as he crossed a foot over the opposite knee. "I understand you have been entertaining much here in my absence."

"Oh, pooh!" she chided. "Do not be jealous, Marcus! It looks ill on you."

"I am not jealous. Only curious."

Again she hid her feelings. She had wanted him to be jealous. Blast this man! He was totally inept at seducing her since he had leg-shackled himself to a wife.

Giving him one of her favorite smiles, she began to prattle about the latest word among the Polite World. She did not tell him that Major Cook had been very good about bringing her every bit of poker-talk.

She finished the tale of a spinster who was hoping for a match with a viscount who was full of juice and began a second story. "Mrs. Reilly was certain that Lady-"

"Enough!"

"Enough?"

Marcus stood and strode toward the door. "I have taken too much of your time today when I came only to tell you that I regret, Jocelyn, that I shall not be calling again."

"You want-witted widgeon," she chided softly as she sat straighter with a whisper of silk. "I did not think you would be so foolish as to let a woman like her twist you with her unfeminine wiles."

"Unfeminine? Regina?" He laughed. "How can I think her unfeminine when her loveliness lights my dreams? There is something enticing about being with a woman who loves me." His laugh faded as he added to himself, "Or she did."

Jocelyn slid off the bed and sighed as she put her hand on his arm. "I think she has made you quite queer in the attic if you have come to believe that. By all that's blue, Marcus, how many times have you told me that the woman has no idea how to take care of Attleby Court or of you?"

He bent to kiss her cheek. "My sweet Jocelyn, you are only half right, and, if I can be honest, I must say that I have come to care little that she knows nothing about managing a household. What she knows about being my wife is more than enough for me."

"You love her!" Distaste rang through her voice.

"I suppose I must. Otherwise, there would be no explaining this call." He smiled as he glanced around the room. "You see, my dear Jocelyn, Regina has been the only one in my life to deny me what I thought I wanted. My father was always too enraptured by his own life to be bothered with his son; he found it easiest to give me everything I demanded. Grandmother doted on her only grandson as well, although she expected to be a part of my life. And you, my sweet one-"

Her perfect brows arched. "I hope you do not think to say that I would do whatever you wished simply because you asked."

"But you did." Leaning his shoulder on the door, he laughed. "Oh, you gave some token resistance before you succ.u.mbed, but that was part of the excitement of winning you from your brave captain."

She rose and walked her fingers up his arm. "I never thought he would take a maggot in his head and meet you on the dueling green. He was probably the worst shot I have ever seen."

"Fortunately for me. I have been lucky twice."

"Twice?"

He shook his head. If he told Jocelyn how Regina had been ready to give up everything to save him, the story would soon be spread throughout the elite. He did not want that to happen ... at least until he had a chance to set things aright with Regina. If that was still possible.

Again he kissed her cheek and took a final whiff of her perfume. It was like a distant memory: pleasant, but nothing more. "Goodbye, Jocelyn."

"Marcus?"

She gripped the edge of the door. "Without you, I-"

"I understand Major Cook has a fine house in Soho Square."

"You knew?"

He chuckled. "Nothing stays secret among the ton, my dear. In fact, I've already spoken with my solicitor about cutting off your allowance. I had hoped to speak with you on that very matter, too, but when I finally had the time two nights ago, finding my wife here put the thought of you and your major right out of my mind." He took his hat from her footman. "Feel free to take whatever you wish with you, Jocelyn. I understand Cook's house is somewhat austere."

When he saw her smile, he knew that the major was due for some adjustments in his life. As was Marcus Whyte, he reminded himself as he hurried down the stairs.

If it was not already too late.

"No!" said the dowager d.u.c.h.ess with a sigh. "My dear child, you are not concentrating!"

Regina began, "But, Your Grace-"

"Why don't you call me 'Grandmother' as Marcus does?"

Smiling she said, "Thank you. But, Grandmother, this is all so confusing."

The dowager d.u.c.h.ess looked from the lists in her hand to Elayne, who was propped, wrapped in a blanket with a gla.s.s of brandy close at hand, on a settee on the other side of the sitting room. "Elayne, I despair at ever teaching this child anything."

"Explain it again," Regina urged. "I did learn how to make up a shopping list with the cook. Surely I can learn how to give the housekeeper a list of tasks for the maids."

"Incredible!" Marcus walked into the room, handing his hat to Gardner. "Are my ears deceiving me? Are you speaking of wifely things, Regina?"

Her cheeks flushed a flattering shade of rose, but she held her head high. "I thought I would learn a few things about managing this house, so I would not shame you any longer."

He took her hands in his, not noticing that the dowager d.u.c.h.ess had come to her feet and was leading Miss Morrissey out of the room. He did not want to look anywhere but into his wife's eyes. Sitting beside her on the settee, he said, "You would never shame me, Regina."

"I did when I danced with Benjamin before I danced with you at that party."

"You infuriated me. You didn't shame me." He put his finger under her chin and did not let her eyes evade his. "I was jealous, so jealous that I could not bear to see you even talk to him. At one time I thought he would have been the perfect husband for you."

She shook her head as she trembled. "No. Don't even say that."

"How would you have known that he was a traitor? You might have married him if he had asked."

"He did."

Marcus's fingers tightened around hers until she winced. Loosening his grip, he gasped, "He did? When?"

"When I was twelve." She smiled swiftly, then added, "But don't speak of him, I beg you."

"Then shall I speak of you?" He picked up a page off the stack the dowager d.u.c.h.ess had set on the table. "This is very unexpected."

"I spent half the night awake last night. I realized I was ready to give my very life to you, but I refused to make a single change." The warm rose returned to her cheeks. "I doubt if I ever shall be a good housewife, Marcus, but I would like to try because I love you."

"Changing is not a bad thing." He ran his finger along her chin, bringing her lips toward his. "I have made a few changes, too. You should be pleased to know that Jocelyn has found a new lover."

She gasped, "You shall not call on her anymore?"

"Why should I when I have the perfect wife here?" He kissed her slowly and with every bit of yearning he had for her. "And to own the truth, I cannot imagine loving anyone as I love you."

"Even our child?"

"Our child?" he gasped.

She smiled shyly. "I am carrying your heir here beneath my heart." She drew his hand over her still-flat abdomen. "Mayhap it is a son."

"Or a daughter, who will grow up to be as undomesticated as her mother." He stood and lifted her into his arms. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he said with a roguish smile, "I can think of but one way to celebrate such good tidings."

Her laugh disappeared as his mouth claimed hers, then he carried her toward the stairs and the bed that they would share for the rest of their lives.

Neither of them noticed the dowager d.u.c.h.ess standing at the opposite end of the hall. "Didn't I tell them?" she asked no one in particular. "It will be one of the great marriages of all times. Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?"

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fict.i.tiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 1994 by Jo Ann Ferguson.

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