His Contract Bride (Banks Brothers Brides 1)(41)

"Your father?" he repeated. A knot formed in his stomach. Nothing good could have come from that visit.

"Yes. I asked him to loan me the money so I could pay Mr. Willis back  for the charges so you wouldn't be charged for them and to ask him to  sell the furniture in his store. It was the best arrangement I could  think of. I'd owe my father my pin money for the next year, but at least  you'd never know what I'd done."

"I see. But your father wouldn't lend you the money?"

"No. He would, but only if I solicited ten invitations for him."

Edward's chest constricted. Had she finally learned her worth and stood up to the awful man? "And you told him no, I presume."

"Of course, I did. I don't know enough ladies of rank to meet his  demands. And the terms of agreement he wanted me to sign stated if I  failed to meet his demands, the number would increase to twenty  invitations by the end of next Season. I couldn't commit to that."

He sighed. She'd stood up and told him no, but not for the right reason.  How much more would it take for her to realize her own value? He sighed  again. "Truly, Regina, I'm not angry about the drawing room. I never  was."                       
       
           



       

"I don't know how you can't be. Not only did I spend a small fortune  that I couldn't get refunded when I went to speak to the proprietor, but  it was delivered right before your important meeting." She sat straight  up, which was a pleasant sight to behold, indeed. "Your guests aren't  due to arrive for another four hours. We still have time to have the  furniture and curtains removed and replaced with the things in the  attic."

He waved her off and pulled her close to him. For as much as he enjoyed  seeing her full, naked breasts, he enjoyed them pressed against him  more. "I don't care about the gentlemen seeing that room."

"Well, I do."

"Don't. If anyone says something, I'll tell them I did it if it bothers you so much."

"Either you didn't find that gruel to be as gut wrenching as I did, or you really enjoy my company."

He laughed. If only you knew. "While we're on the topic of being  truthful, tell me, would it bother you if I host more meetings like this  one here at Watson Estate?"

"No. Why?"

He forced a shrug. "Well, if all goes well today, I'll need to host a  breakfast to which Lord Edgewood is invited so I can extend him an  official invitation of the society. Would that be an imposition for  you?"

"Not at all. Would I need to make similar arrangements for the breakfast I'm hosting next week?"

"Yes. Exactly the same. You could even use the same plans, if you'd like."

Regina cast him a queer look. "Very well. I shall endeavor to follow  Lady Brazzel's orders and do my very best to please my baron by  entertaining his scientific friends."

"I don't want you to feel obligated to host a breakfast for a group of  men whose only ambition in life is to solve complex mathematical  equations or look at parts of plants under a microscope in hopes of  making a new discovery," Edward explained with a frown.

"I don't, I'm hosting it for you."

He wanted to groan. "You don't have to. Your duty isn't to be trampled under my feet."

"Then why did you ask me to host it?"

"Because I wanted your opinion. Your permission." How hard was it for  her to understand he wasn't like her father? He didn't think of her as  an object, but a person. "I know this might be difficult for you to  understand since your father pushes his demands on you, but you have a  choice. You just have to make it. Nobody else can do it for you. It has  to be you."

She eyed him curiously. "And I've made my choice. I'll host the  breakfast, not because it's my duty as baroness as outlined in Brazzel's  Instructions for Baronesses, but because I want to."

"Very well, but don't start any planning until you're done with the one you're hosting next week."

"All right."

"Good." He ran his open palm along her bare side. "But for now, I have other plans for you."

***

As he'd hoped, the meeting went wonderfully. Even with Lord Sinclair's  unsolicited attendance, he'd still gained enough signatures to  officially form the society.

"Why did you come today, Joseph?" Edward asked after everyone else had  made their exit. "I thought you were retiring to the country for the  remainder of your Season to be with your wife during her confinement?"  Not to mention his dislike for all things science.

"Were she increasing, that is exactly where I'd be." He fell into the  orange chair Regina had purchased for the drawing room. "Aside from the  grand image of this room assaulting my eyes, at least the chair is  comfortable."

"I quite agree," Edward said, plopping down into the yellow one. "Now, what is this about your wife not increasing?"

"Confounded woman; apparently she was three days past due for her courses and assumed she was breeding."

Edward nearly laughed at the absurdity. Lady Sinclair might have the  more desirable family background, but in every other way, Edward had  made a far better match than his friend. "Not to worry, Joseph. There's  still plenty of time."

"Yes, I know I have plenty of time. It's she who should be worried."

"About your visits becoming more frequent?"

"No, that I might throttle her if she pulls any other stunt like this  one. Do you know that for two weeks, I had to cater to her every call  and whim."

"As opposed to doing that for only one week?"

The sound of Lord Sinclair's teeth grinding filled the air.

Edward stood up and straightened his coat. He had somewhere to go today  and didn't care to delay his plans in favor of listening to more  nonsense concerning Lady Sinclair and her manipulations. "Allow me to  pass on some words of wisdom a good friend of mine once shared with me:  you're too nice to her. You're the lord and she's the lady. You need to  give her a task and explain to her how important it is for her to  fulfill it. That's what she expects."                       
       
           



       

Joseph lifted his eyebrows and waved his open hand around the room. "I see how well that worked out for you."

"Actually, the advice I received that day worked out well, indeed. Perhaps you'd be best served to heed it, too."

"I think not. Accepting advice from a fourteen year-old boy is preposterous!"

Edward shrugged and snatched up his hat. "Suit yourself, Joseph. It's you who has to live with her, not me."





~Chapter Thirty~





Regina turned her head to avoid John's curious gaze as he passed her  while leaving the dining room. She nearly groaned in frustration. It  would seem Mr. Willis' had sent the last of her deliveries: the newly  upholstered dining chairs, each chair a different style with a different  color fabric covering the cushion.

She sank into the blue one on the end. Despite her urging for the  servants to remove their new furnishings and bring other pieces down  from the attic, Edward had refused, saying he liked the new pieces. For  seven days, she tried this, and now it was too late to do anything about  it for her guests would be arriving in less than two hours.

"There you are," Edward said, walking into the dining room. He sat in  the vacant chair next to her. "You're not nervous, are you?"

Regina looked around at all the mismatched chairs in the dining room. "No, Edward. Not at all."

He wagged his finger at her and tsk, tsked. "I do hope you're not lying  to me. I should hate to have to ask Cook to serve gruel at your  breakfast."

"You're insufferable, did you know that?"

"Yes." He took her hand in his. "What is there to be nervous about?"

Regina stared at him. What wasn't there to be nervous about? "This abominably decorated house, to start with."

He shrugged. "Have you forgotten what you read in Brazzel's Instructions for Baronesses?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's not even a real book."

"But it should be. That always pleasing the baron bit seems to be very important. It should go into print."

"Then write such a book, if you wish."

Edward turned in his chair and placed his right hand on her cheek. "Regina, what are you really nervous about today?"

"If the guests will have a good time-one in particular."

His lips formed a thin line. "I see. And what of you?"

"What about me?"

"What about your enjoyment?"

A shaky laugh passed her lips. "That matters naught. I agreed to host  this breakfast for my father, and I intend to prove to him that I'm not  the incompetent fool he thinks me to be."