Regina nodded encouragingly as he went on about the discovery he'd made last night. She noted the inkwell was empty and opened the drawer in the front of his desk to retrieve another pot of ink. She quickly refilled the inkwell then slid open the drawer where he kept his parchment. She pursed her lips. He was nearly out; she'd need to order it to be restocked after they finished. She took the few sheets he had left and placed them on the desk.
"Thank you," Edward said quietly a few minutes later when she had begun writing.
Regina looked up and met his eyes. "You're welcome. I'm happy to do it." And she was. He'd been good to her. She'd be happy to do anything for him. She dropped her eyes back to the papers in front of her and picked up where she'd stopped.
The spicy scent of Edward's shaving water filled her nose, indicating his closeness. She inhaled deeply. Even after being married more than three and a half weeks, she still couldn't get enough of that scent.
Warm fingertips pressed gently into her spine. "Would you mind writing out that equation on a separate page?"
Regina nodded. "Of course not."
"Good."
She moistened her thumb and forefinger and lifted the top page from the stack, exposing the fresh sheet underneath. Some moments-such as right now-she honestly wondered if her husband was oblivious to the effect he had on her. Did he not realize that he could make her heart pound and her blood race with nothing more than an intent look or a gentle touch?
"There, I think having the whole page to write on will allow enough room for the entire equation to be written clearly without leading to confusion."
Apparently he really was oblivious to the feelings he created in her. She dismissed the thought and began transcribing the gibberish he'd scribbled into legible letters and numbers.
"Excellent," he murmured, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before flipping open the book in his right hand.
Suppressing her sigh, Regina shook her head. For as much as she loved him, and he her, sometimes he was far too interested in his scientific pursuits to take full advantage of the situation. He'd visit her in bed, of course, but only when it was dark and never more than once a week. It would seem during daylight hours his mind was somewhere else. She glanced to the stack of notes she was transcribing, apparently most nights it was there, too.
Regina finished copying his stack of notes and with nothing else to do, but not wanting to leave, resumed her usual position on the chair by the window and began to sew.
From the corner of her eye, she watched as Edward took his seat and began to jot down words faster than a rabbit being chased by a dog.
"Would you like for me to write that down for you?"
Edward paused in his writing then shook his head. "No, no. You sew. You've done enough for me already today."
A smile took her lips. "Stubborn man." She set her sewing in the wicker basket beside her chair and stood. "I'll be right back."
He looked up. "Is there something you require?"
"Yes, and I'll be right back after I find it."
His brows knit in confusion. "Have you run out of things to sew?"
Had she actually been sewing these past three and a half weeks, she certainly would have run out of things by now. She tucked a tendril of loose hair behind her ear. "No. You're out of paper in your desk. I'm going to your study to get some, so I can take notes."
"You don't have to do that, Regina," he said.
"I know. I want to."
"Well, as long as you want to... But, you can just ring a servant for paper."
She flicked her wrist. "It's of no account. Your study is but a few feet away. It'll be much quicker this way."
***
Edward could not have found a better Lady Watson had he spent ten years at the proverbial Marriage Mart attending boring balls and ear piercing musicales. And, he shuddered just to think of what paying calls would entail with the rumored horrendous poetry and false flattery. He grimaced. Neither of those things held an ounce of appeal.
He leaned back in his chair. His father, though not done intentionally, had certainly done him a great favor by unknowingly matching him up with such a wonderful young lady. Perhaps one day, he could make such a fortunate match for his own son.
Of course, Father, being so rigid in his belief that Edward only marry as a result of an arranged marriage to avoid the mistake he'd made, had no idea everything would have turned out this well.
A grin took his lips. Yes, everything had turned out perfectly, indeed. Nearly a month into their marriage and Regina didn't seem bored with him, which was a direct contradiction to John's prediction. Instead, she still conversed with him about his plants and would answer silly questions he'd ask her with answers that were so far from possible that he'd have to bite the inside of his cheek so not to embarrass her by laughing.
And as for their nighttime activities...
There was no use in denying it. He enjoyed visiting her bed most of all. Though he managed to hold to his father's advice and only visit her once a week, he looked forward to those visits all week long. Sneaking peeks at the skin just above the bodice of her gown or the "accidental" brush of his body against hers only served to excite him more. But alas, he did not wish to scare her. Not to mention that momentary feeling of shame that washed over him just as they'd finish and she'd snuggle up against him and say-
"Hell and damnation," Edward shouted as he nearly faltered while shooting to his feet. Regina was about to start digging around in his other desk.
~Chapter Eight~
Edward had no idea which was louder: his heavy footfalls on the floor or the pounding of his heart against his chest.
"Regina," he rasped, rounding the door of his study.
Regina didn't answer. But she didn't have to. The faraway, lost look in her eyes was enough. She knew.
Edward cleared his throat. What did one say to a lady who just found out that her love match was actually an arranged marriage?
Silence engulfed them.
Keen observation was one of the most useful tools a scientist had in his laboratory. But just now it seemed as if it was the most useless. His eyes searched her face. But with each slow sweep he did, he learned nothing new. Her brown eyes looked as dry as they always did, if not a bit wider set. Her pink lips were slightly parted as they usually were, exposing the lower half of her front teeth. Her skin, though not what he'd have considered pale in the first place, was still colored the same.
No red edges around her eyes.
No tears streaking down her cheeks.
No bright red splotches on her cheeks.
No frown.
No sobs.
Nothing.
To him, her not reacting was worse than if she had reacted.
Years of witnessing his mother's tears may have annoyed him, but it had given him the needed experience of what to say and not to say to a lady experiencing a fit of vapors.
However, Regina's response of indifference was different. Most unnerving, really.
Her eyes looked up from the papers she held and met his gaze. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked at last, confusing him more with her casual tone. Not a single squeal or crack had erupted in that sentence, nothing but a calm, smooth question that he felt like a dunce forming a response to.
"I didn't want to hurt you," he said at last.
She nodded once. "So you think lying to me was the better way to accomplish that?"
He blinked. Where on earth had she learned her arguing skills? "Yes."
She nodded once again. "Well, Lord Watson," she began, in a tone that wasn't hard or sharp, but neither was it warm and excited, "I feel foolish to have waited so long to inform you of this, however, I prefer honesty to heroics."
Edward swallowed. "Regina, I wasn't trying to be heroic."
"Weren't you?" she challenged. "You just admitted to such not more than thirty seconds ago."
"No, I just said that I was trying to spare your feelings," he corrected. His mind reeled. In their weeks of marriage, he'd never seen her have as much to say or as strong of an opinion as she did just now.
Regina dropped their betrothal agreement to his desk. "It matters naught why you did it. What's done is done, I suppose." She stood and smoothed her skirts. "I apologize for whatever it was I said to you that made you feel you needed to lie to me in order to protect my feelings." Twin patches of pink stained her cheeks, presumably because she was alluding to one of their more intimate moments during the middle of the day. She lifted her chin. "I should inform you that while most gentlemen frequently tell their wives whatever they think will keep them appeased, I am not one of those wives and do not desire such a husband."