Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
He grimaced as she discarded more cards. “Your father must lie awake at night even now, thinking of ways to murder me when we return to England. I’ll be fortunate if he doesn’t have me thrown in jail, and marry you to Brittingham anyway.”
He saw her go tense. “Could he do such a thing? Dissolve a marriage between us?”
“He might try if he had any hope our union remained unconsummated.”
“Unconsummated? What does that mean?”
Sometimes he forgot what an innocent she was. “An unconsummated marriage is one in which the husband and wife haven’t, ah, lain together yet.”
He felt some of her tension ebb away. “Then we must lie together at the earliest opportunity. I won’t mind that at all, though I’d prefer to use your bed. Mine is smaller.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ve slept alone my whole life except when I visited Elizabeth as a child, and we used to giggle under the covers together, and stay up quite late after we’d been put to bed. I think sleeping with a gentleman must be fun and exciting also. The married ladies I’ve known always blush when it’s brought up.”
Marlow looked past her shoulder to the mattress where he tossed and turned at night, thinking of her. Of course his innocent future wife’s idea of the marital bed was something akin to childhood cuddles beneath a blanket. How very Rosalind of her.
“I share your conviction that we must lie together as soon as it’s proper for us to do so, but that time is not yet. I don’t believe your father will try to end our marriage, anyway. It would cause a greater scandal. Better to pretend we were already secretly married before you left with me. That’s probably the tale that’s been put about. Brittingham will be angriest. Your marriage would have been an excellent connection for him. He’ll doubtless insist upon a duel when I return, in hopes of making you a rich widow.”
“A duel?” She shook her head. “You’ll have to refuse him.”
“A man cannot refuse. It’s a matter of honor.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t go back,” she said after a moment. “Not for a while, anyway. There are plenty of English people living in the East now.”
“You’d want to live in India?”
“For a while. Perhaps.”
He knew from her voice she didn’t want to do such a thing, but that she would, for him. It was touching, how much she was willing to give up for him. If only he deserved such sacrifice and devotion…
They were down to the last three cards in the draw-pile and he was winning. Again. Rosalind picked up the top card, then put it down before she completed the motion. Perhaps she thought he hadn’t seen her tip up the edge behind her delicate fingers, peeking at the card before deciding against taking it.
“Gentlemen play with a rule,” he said, giving her a chance to correct her behavior. “If you touch the card, you can’t put it back.”
“Well, I’m not a gentleman, am I?” she said lightly. “I changed my mind. You may draw the card if you wish.”
“Draw the card you’ve already looked at and rejected?”
She dropped her gaze, brazening it out. “How was I to look at it? I barely touched it.”
“I know you looked at it, little cheater. Cheating is wrong to begin with.” He gave her a dire look. “When you’re so bad at it, it makes it even worse.”
“Well, I’m tired of you winning every time. It’s very tedious.”
She made it too easy. The one spanking he’d dealt her so far had only stoked his appetite to give her another, and here she was, giving him a perfectly legitimate excuse to redden her bottom. Cheating at cards? It was as if she wanted him to spank her.
“What shall we do with you?” he asked, making his voice stern. “We were just speaking about matters of honor. Give me your cards.”
He plucked them from her fingers as she gazed at him unhappily. “Why does it matter? I wouldn’t have won anyway.”
“Exactly. I’m afraid you must be punished for such behavior, to be sure you never cheat at cards again. You may think it’s just a game—”
“It is!”
“But dishonesty isn’t a game. Not in my future wife.”
She pouted, watching him put away the cards. “You cannot mean to spank me a second time?”
He secured the cards in their box and turned to her, removing his coat and rolling up his white, lace-trimmed sleeves in answer to her question.
“Marlow,” she protested. “You’re being a terrible stick in the mud. I shall not submit to another spanking.”
“You will, darling. Come here.”
He waited for more protests, but they didn’t come. Rosalind was a good, obedient girl at heart and she knew she’d done a bad thing. She did cross her arms over her chest and pout very darkly, but she let him draw her over to the bed.