His Contract Bride (15 page)

“
Is there anything I need to do in preparation?”

“
No. Just be willing to give up the drawing room for a few hours that day. Oh, and be willing to listen to me practice my speech,” he added with a grin.

“
In that case, I think you should ask your friends to meet at Lord Sinclair's. I'm sure Lady Sinclair would
love
to hear your speech.”

“
You sly minx.” He bent forward and reached to place his hand on her knee then, at the last moment, changed its course and snagged a biscuit from the platter he'd asked to be brought in while he waited for her return. Regina didn't like being touched, he reminded himself. “If it's too much trouble, we can meet somewhere else, Regina.”

“
It's not too much trouble,” she murmured, taking a stale biscuit from the platter. “I'd be happy to relinquish my drawing room time for your gathering. I'll even make sure Cook makes plenty of biscuits to eat and greens to study.”

He chuckled. She had a great sense of humor—but only when she felt brave enough to express it. He cocked his head to the side. That was another thing he'd noticed about Regina. She
did
have a mind of her own; she was just very careful not to speak it, almost like she lacked the confidence to do so. Even this morning when he'd walked in to find Lady Sinclair lecturing her, she didn't seem to be standing her own ground. A bitter taste filled his mouth. This was the work of her father. Sure, young ladies were supposed to be demure and docile, but they weren't trained monkeys. She shouldn't be so afraid to speak her mind that she let people trample over her.

“
And what of you,” he forced himself to ask. “Will you be joining the meeting?”

She bit her lip. “I suppose.”

“
You suppose?” he repeated with a huff. “Well, madam, if you cannot act a bit more excited than that, then you are not welcome to join.”

Her eyes flared wide and her mouth didn't know whether to stay open or shut. “P-pardon me?”

He folded his arms across his chest and sighed. “I'm sorry, Regina. But until you can show a bit more enthusiasm for discussing bulbs, roots, petals, thorns, thistles, stems, leaves and the growth patterns of orchids, you are banned from the meetings.”

“
Banned?”

“
Banned,” he repeated.

She stared at him a moment, her eyes were still wide and her lips pressed together in a thin line. It was all he could do to hold his straight face and not take it all back. “Very well,” she said at last. “I shall have to endeavor to find something else to do that day. Perhaps, Lady Sinclair would like to come over and discuss the creation of a weekly sewing circle to take place in your study.”

A sharp bark of laughter rent the air. “You wouldn't dare.” Frankly, he didn't care if she did dare to do that. Finding her voice long enough to make such a statement was certainly a start, but it was only to him in private. She hadn't actually done anything yet.

She stood. “You have no idea what I'd dare to do.”

Though her words were spoken lightly enough, there was a gleam in her eyes that made him almost second-guess his former assessment about her lack of confidence. “Regina, you're welcome to join if you'd like, and if you don't wish to—” he shrugged— “you don't have to.” He patted the space on the settee she'd vacated and was relieved when she resumed her seat. “That goes for everything else, too. If there is something you don't wish to do—such as allow a group of gentlemen to gather in our drawing room to discuss biology, all you need do is say something. This is your home, too.”

“
Thank you,” she whispered. “I truly don't mind if they come.”

“
But you'll not be in attendance?” Biological science wasn't for everyone; he knew that. But her answer was crucial. If she wanted to come—sincerely wanted to come—things would be much easier. However, if she didn't, then she'd prove John's theory right, and he'd be back to discovering her interests.

“
I've been banned, remember?”

“
Never mind that, I was having you on.” He dropped his hands to his sides and idly scratched his right thigh. “Tell me, Regina, and don't be afraid of hurting my feelings, because you won't; does studying the root structure of hyacinths hold any appeal to you?”

Her downcast eyes and audible swallow said it all; John was right. Those things didn't interest her. She did them because Edward had asked her to.

“
Good,” he said before she could attempt a lie to cover up for her expression. “Now that we have that cleared up, is there anything you might like to purchase to go with the things you bought today?”

She coughed delicately then patted her chest. “No. I think I bought everything necessary.”

“
Even some jewels?”

“
No. I don't believe I need any jewels.”

“
You aren't making this easy for me, are you?” he mumbled under his breath.

“
Making what easy?”

Laying all remaining pride aside, he said, “Discovering your interests.” Which clearly aren't scientifically based—dash it all.

“
I've already told you. I like sewing, embroidery, water colors and—”

“
Enough,” he said, scowling. He dropped his head, exhaled deeply, and then ran a hand through his hair and pulled, leaving his hair to point in all different directions. He pursed his lips. “Do you care for museums?”

“
Of course.”

“
I know what you're thinking.”

“
Oh, and what would that be?”

“
You think I plan to take you to the British Museum.” He paused a second, taking her in. “But I'm not.”

“
Oh?” she repeated.

“
I have a friend who has a different kind of museum. He—”

“
Let me guess. It is solely dedicated to instruments of science.”

He grinned at her and her sly sense of humor. “Actually, no. But he does have all sorts of oddities that I think you might like.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you trying to imply something, Edward?”

He chuckled. “If that implication fits you, I have no idea how one would classify me.”

“
I have an idea, but I shan't say.”

~Chapter Fifteen~

“
What is this place?” Regina asked when the Watson carriage rolled to a stop in front of a grey stone building that was in desperate need of repair.

“
The museum,” he said simply.

“
From its appearance, this
building
looks as if it should be in a museum.”

Edward laughed.

“
Well, it does.”

He descended the carriage then helped her do the same. “I wasn't laughing at your suggestion, exactly, just the truth of it.”

She eyed him askance, and he ducked to elude her scrutinizing gaze.

“
Shall we go inside and see it before it falls down about our ears?” he suggested.

Regina nodded. “I'll be careful not to touch anything. I wouldn't wish to help the demolition along.”

Another bark of laugher passed his lips. Then, when he caught sight of her, he cleared his throat. “Actually, unlike most museums, there are many things in here that you are encouraged to touch.”

“
Excellent,” she chirped. “My aunt always did complain about my inability to keep my hands to myself.”

“
Truly?” Edward had been watching her every second he could and had hardly seen her touch anything—even him. He'd vaguely noticed her featherlight touches previously when he'd escorted her somewhere and she had to take his arm, but now he couldn't help but notice them.

“
Truly.” They began walking and she continued, “As a child, she'd rap the back of my hands with a fan every time I touched something that wasn't mine.”

Edward's heart lurched at those cruel words and the broken tone that delivered them, and he came to an abrupt stop that would have made her fall to the ground if not for his quick reaction. “Regina,” he began, his voice hoarse. “Everything I own—”
including me—
“is yours to touch and inspect as much as you'd like. There is no reason to fear my reaction if you do.”

Regina's brown eyes grew glossy. She blinked rapidly then nodded. “Thank you.”

He had no idea what she was thanking him for but nodded once. “You're welcome. Now, let's go inside.”

“
Hullo, Lord Watson,” Loretta Bray, the owner's daughter, greeted as Edward and Regina stepped inside.

“
Miss Bray,” he replied by way of greeting. “Where is your papa today?”

“
He'll be back in a few minutes. Run to the butcher, he did.” She twisted her face in a most unflattering way.

“
Has Mr. Moore been causing trouble again?” Edward guessed.

“
Yes and Papa's gwine make sure he gets what's coming to him.”

“
Right, well, Miss Bray, I'd like you to meet my wife, Lady Watson.” He turned toward Regina then gestured to Miss Bray. “Regina, this is Loretta Bray. Her father owns the shop.”

“
Hello, milady,” Miss Bray said, demonstrating a sloppy curtsy. “It's very nice to meet you.”

“
It's nice making your acquaintance, too,” Regina murmured; her curtsy flawless in comparison.

Edward's chest swelled with pride. Regina, being a woman of nobility now, had no call to curtsy to Miss Bray. And, were she any other lady Edward was acquainted with, namely his mother or Lady Sinclair, she would have become waspish toward Miss Bray for her mistake. But not Regina. He put a possessive hand on the small of her back then just as quickly pulled it away when she flinched. “We'll just look around, then.”

“
Aye. There are new automatons in the back,” she called as they walked away. “Oh, and we rearranged some of the sculptures.”

Edward lifted his free hand to indicate he'd heard. “Have you ever been to a curiosity shop?”

“
N-no.”

He gestured to the left hall. “Good. I'll get to witness your first experience at seeing—.”

“
What on earth is
that?
” she exclaimed, terror filling her voice. She recoiled and jumped backward, her back slamming against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her to steady her. He'd expected some sort of reaction, but this wasn't it. “It's a wax sculpture.”

“
A what?” Her body was still tense as she stared at the wax image of a man wearing nothing but a brown piece of “leather” that hung loose in front of his bauble and whirligigs, held on only by a thin piece of “rope” that wrapped around his waist. His right arm was lifted into the air with his hand closed around a long spear with a sharp, bloodied tip on the end. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his teeth were bared as if he were running into war.

Edward loosened his hold enough to still keep her up but not make her uneasy by his touch. “It's like a statue. But instead of being made of marble or stone, it's made from wax.”

“
My compliments to the sculptor. He did a fine job of making it very lifelike.”

“
He did, didn't he?”

“
Yes,” she said with a swallow, her eyes trained on the man's chest. Her body relaxed significantly, but he refused to let her go so soon. It had been since their wedding night that he'd been able to touch her without guilt niggling in the back of his mind, and for some reason, he didn't want the moment to end.

“
Are there more statues like this one?”

“
No.” He released her. “Last time I was here, this was the only one like this, and I thought it was at the end.”

“
That must be why Miss Bray was giggling,” Regina said.

“
Of course,” he offered her is arm. “Would you like to see the others?” When she bit her lip and glanced over his shoulder, he added, “I promise that none are as graphic as this.”

“
And if they are?”

“
Then I'll give you a boon and do whatever it is you wish to do tomorrow,” he promised, saying a silent prayer that there would be another, more vulgar image than this one. That way she'd have no choice but to let him into her world that she'd held secret from him.

“
A boon,” she agreed. “But I get to claim it whenever and however I wish.”

He inwardly sighed. “All right, a boon of your choosing.”

“
Very well, show me more men with wax in their ears, if you please.”

“
Not just in,” he corrected. “If you want to see that, look no further than yours truly.”