“I’m very much a hoyden, as you well know. We are ill matched on all accounts and I foresee a turbulent marriage.” She stepped a bit closer and lowered her voice. “However, despite four years and additional experiences, I have not forgotten my ravishment, and I will not be coy and say I am not anticipating further exploration of such.”
“Additional experiences, ma’am?”
“Yes, Your Grace, all quite illuminating.”
Hell and damn. “I see. In what way, may I ask?”
“No, you may not. Suffice it to say, I would not conceive of marrying you if I did not anticipate some measure of fulfillment. I will accept no one in my bed but you, so it will be up to you to provide what I need. Are you comfortable with this? If not, speak now and I shall return to Scotland.”
“I believe the subject bears further analysis. We will discuss it tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it.”
Sherbourne returned just then. He scowled at Michael before he turned his attention to Jane. “Well?”
“The duke will call on the morrow.”
“Very well. Come along, daughter. I’ve had enough of the fishbowl tonight.”
Michael watched them leave, his mind turning over all that she’d said. Obviously, Lady Jane believed she held the upper hand, that he was desperate enough for a wife, for an heir, he would dance to her tune, whether the melody pleased him or not.
Michael took his leave of Lady Manderly and made his way to his carriage. Once inside, he glanced about and noted a stocking wedged between the squabs. Hmm. He’d definitely have a word with his driver.
He alighted on Marchmont street and rapped at the door of a sedate, attractive row house. Miriam opened almost immediately, her pretty face beaming a welcome. “Blix! I hadn’t expected you this evening.”
Hard and frustrated, feeling damned to eternal Hell, Michael stepped inside and reached for her as the door closed behind him.
Chapter 4
“Jane, are you absolutely sure? I admit, the thought of you married to him bothers me no small amount. He’s an autocrat. He has a tendency to cold arrogance.”
At the breakfast table, glancing at Robert over her coffee, Jane smiled. He was closest to her in age, just two years her elder. At four and twenty, he was a strapping man– actually the tallest of the brothers, taller even than Sherbourne. She noted her papa was also staring at her, awaiting a reply. Her gaze moved to his right, to her brother, Bram. At five and twenty, Bram was the most serious of them all, although, even in his seriousness, he couldn’t match Blixford.
“I’m quite sure. So long as I’m ruined and shunned, it will be difficult for any of you to find suitable brides. It’s my duty to marry Blixford.”
“Nonsense!” Jack said with a scowl. “If you’ve no wish to marry the scoundrel, do not do so on our account. Respectability can be yours again regardless of whom you choose to marry.”
Jack was second oldest, married at one and twenty and widowed three years later, while he was in the Peninsula with Wellington. His had been a love match and he’d yet to try again. Jane well understood his insistence upon marrying for love. Owing to their family’s great wealth, each of them had the luxury. Oddly, Jack was the only one who’d thus far walked down the aisle.
They were all there, even the eldest, Sherbourne’s heir, James. Upon her return from Scotland, her brothers rallied about, determined to put to rights what had gone so wrong four years earlier. When she declared herself ready for London, they’d each traveled along, four of them taking up residence with her and Papa in the house on Grosvenor Square. Only James and Julian were not staying with them; James having his own house in Cavendish Square and Julian electing to stay with him, due to late hours he said were certain to disrupt the household.
This morning, in anticipation of the duke’s call, of the beginning of his courtship, they were all there, a wall of masculine support. Jane would find it humorous if they didn’t each one look as though they’d love nothing more than to murder Blixford. His title meant nothing to the Lennox brothers. He was a man before he was a duke, and he’d taken liberties with their sister. He deserved to die, and she didn’t doubt Julian could accomplish such without mishap, without detection. The duke would simply disappear and none would ever find evidence of a Lennox hand in the matter.
“He’s a dreadful stick, Janie. Chances are he won’t permit you much freedom.” James stirred a spot of cream into his coffee. “Once you’ve married, he’ll have rights upon your movements.”
“He may have rights, but I don’t have to obey.”