His Contract Bride (8 page)

So for today, he decided to break from routine and bring her an hour’s ride away to Ridge Water to spend the day with Lord and Lady Sinclair, who happened to be in the country preparing for a small house party they planned to host the following weekend.

“
Married only two weeks and already you've abandoned your prized night blooming cereus all the way from the jungles of South America that I've been hearing about for more than six months,” Joseph said to him by way of greeting as Edward walked into his friend's study.

Edward frowned. “I didn't forget about them. My man of affairs will be there to accept them. I've given him very detailed instructions on what to do with them when they arrive.” He walked over to the window and pressed his face to the glass to see what was going on outside.

“
What the devil is that?”

His friend sighed. “What does it look like?”

“
A giant tallywag.”

“
You needn't be so vulgar, Edward,” Joseph reprimanded, disapproval dripping from his voice.

“
You asked what it looked like. I told you.”

“
Yes, you did,” Joseph agreed. “But there was no reason to be so crude.”

Edward eyed him askance. “Don't tell me you've forgotten what yours looks like.”

Joseph's face darkened. “Bea and I have an agreement.”

Silence filled the air.

Edward was as close to Joseph as he was with John. When they'd met at Eton, Joseph had already inherited his title the previous year after his father had died from the pox. Nobody dared mention that fact to Joseph, lest he wished to leave the room with a blackened eye; but it didn't make it any less true. As a result, Joseph had an unfaltering desire not to bring about any more embarrassment to his family and had practiced temperance in all things.

“
Care to give another guess at what that is?” Joseph asked, pointing to the window.

Grateful the tension in the room had evaporated, Edward said, “If I didn't know any better, I'd say it looks like a chess pawn under a thirty-X microscope.”

“
Of course, to you, everything can be turned into a discussion of science,” Beatrice, Lady Sinclair, trilled from behind him.

Edward turned around to greet her. Lady Sinclair was a peculiar lady who did nothing that wasn't for the sake of appearances—such as making a brief appearance to say hello to him while he spoke with Joseph. “It's nice to see you again, Lady Sinclair.”

Lady Sinclair fanned herself as if she was becoming overheated at being paid such a paltry compliment. “Is it hot in here to you, Regina dear?” she asked, placing her hand on Regina's arm.

Regina's arm jerked so quickly, had he not been shamelessly staring at his wife, he would have missed it. “No. But I'm not wearing quite the same costume you are,” she said quietly.

“
That must be it.”

Edward took in his wife. To him she was the most beautiful creature in existence. She wore a dark green gown with burgundy ribbons sewn around her cuffs and modest neckline. Her silky hair was put up into a nice bun with silver combs on either side of her head. Standing next to Lady Sinclair, however, she appeared dressed like a beggar. As was her style, Lady Sinclair did nothing only part way. He'd never seen her in anything less than her finest gowns with not a hair out of place, such as she was today. She wore a gown made of red satin that shimmered in the light. Around her neck, she wore six strands of pearls, each strand's pearls being the tiniest bit smaller than the one before it.

She reached a hand that had a ring on every finger up to her perfectly curled hair. Joseph had once told him that Lady Sinclair's lady's maid used a measuring tape while styling her hair to make sure she set Lady Sinclair's curls in their proper place as requested by Lady Sinclair. Edward wouldn't be surprised if she had to measure their circumference, too, to make sure it was plump enough before powdering them. Lady Sinclair was very particular that way.

Edward shuddered. He'd been truly blessed with Regina. She might be what most would consider simple, but he didn't mind. He was simple, too. He hated wigs and only wore a coat and cravat so not to scandalize his staff. He shook his head. Joseph with his powered wig and pristine appearance was the perfect match for his fastidious wife.

Just like Regina was a good match for him.

“
Shall we play a friendly game of chess?” Joseph asked, drawing Edward's attention back to present.

“
What of the ladies?” Edward inquired.

Joseph shot him an amused glance. “They're invited to play, too.”

“
Excellent.” Edward reached behind him to where Joseph kept his chess set.

“
Outside,” Joseph clarified.

Edward's head shot up, his gaze darting out the window. “So then my guess was correct.”

Nodding, Joseph said, “The second one, anyway.”

Chuckling, Edward replaced the marble chessboard then held his arm out for Regina. “May I escort you outside, my lady?”

Her lips bent in the hint of a smile. “I'd like that.”

He'd like it, too.

“
Are you very skilled at chess, Lady Watson?” Joseph asked.

Edward scowled at his friend over his shoulder. “I'll help her.”

“
I suppose that's allowable,” Joseph said, standing with deliberate slowness so not to shake his wig and get powder onto his black coat.

It had better be allowable, otherwise Edward wouldn't play. It was one thing to win against someone of equal skill, but it was another to trounce someone. If he didn't help Regina, that's exactly what would happen.

Outside, was the most unusual chess set Edward had ever laid eyes upon. The pieces were nearly as tall as he was, all lined up on a large checked wooden platform. He ran his booted foot along the edge of the platform, noting how only the black squares had been painted; the white were actually the color of the stained wood platform.

“
Let's play,” Lady Sinclair chirped.

“
As our guests, you two can play white,” Joseph said, leading his wife to immediately stick her lower lip out in a pout. Joseph turned his head to study a nearby tree, presumably so he didn't have to bear witness to—or address—his wife's childish behavior.

As predicted, Regina was awful at chess. If not for his pretending to hear her wrong, they'd have lost within three moves.

“
You're quite good,” Regina said to him as he escorted her back inside.

“
So are we,” Lady Sinclair said airily. “But as our guests, we thought it best to let you win, this once.” She turned to her husband. “Didn't we, my lord?”

Joseph shook his head. “I do believe they won fairly, Bea. Edward is the best I've ever played.”

“
Quite a compliment coming from the president of the Chess Club of London,” Edward remarked, ignoring Lady Sinclair's gasp. While Lady Sinclair was decent at chess, he'd hardly call her a master. Mildly skilled, yes. A master strategist, no. She had a handful of advanced strategies memorized that she'd vary between, but when forced to create her own, she'd always lose.

“
And when shall I expect you to unseat me?” Joseph asked, not unkindly.

Edward shrugged. “I have no interest in joining a society for playing chess. I'd much rather continue to lobby for members to join a society for biol—”

Lady Sinclair's yawn drowned out the rest of his words. She patted her mouth with her gloved fingers. “Excuse me. I have no idea what has come over me. It must be all this sunshine making me sleepy.”

“
Of course,” Joseph said. He offered her his arm. “Let's go back inside where it won't be over warm.”

Lady Sinclair couldn't possibly be “over warm” after they got inside and she commanded a fleet of servants to wave large fans, creating a steady breeze in the drawing room.

If not for the fact Lady Sinclair had a natural ability to offend without warning, Edward would have taken Joseph up on his suggestion to leave the ladies to chat about hair ribbons while they took themselves off to examine Joseph's new thoroughbred.

But he'd vowed the day he'd married Regina to spare her feelings no matter what, and if that meant enduring Lady Sinclair's inane drivel so Regina wouldn't be alone with her, so be it.

~Chapter Seven~

Regina could never remember a time she'd been happier than when she was living with Edward at Watson Estate. As odd as it might seem, she felt like she mattered. And to her, a girl who'd been told her whole life that her one goal in that life was to marry a titled gentleman, that was the best feeling in the world.

Other than the occasional visit to Ridge Water to visit Lord and Lady Sinclair—which Regina suspected were only made so she could have some interaction with another lady, because it was quite obvious Edward wasn't as impressed by Lady Sinclair's false charm as Lord Sinclair was—their days together had been very similar to their first day together. They'd break their fast together, dig around in the conservatory, have luncheon, then go to the library where she'd pretend to sew while he'd ask for her opinion on something he was debating—which never failed to make her feel important—and then she'd either jot down his musings or offer to translate notes she'd find on his desk.

Not the life young girls with romantic notions dreamt of, but to Regina, it was. Not only had she appeased her father by making a match with a baron, thus by association raised her father to a better social standing, she'd married a gentleman who didn't treat her as a nuisance to be dealt with, but rather, included her and made her feel wanted.

Yes, Regina had made the match of the Season.

“
What has you smiling like a cat who just spotted the cream?” the object of her affection asked.

She blushed. She didn't dare tell him what she was thinking about. Gentlemen didn't like to talk about such subjects. Especially him. The few times she'd mentioned something about the circumstances of their marriage, he'd grunted and quickly changed the subject. Poor man. It must embarrass him for the entire world to know he held a
tendre
for his own wife. Of course, it didn't stop her from whispering her feelings before drifting to sleep in his arms on the nights he'd visited her bed. Her blush intensified at the thought and she ignored it. “Nothing so important.” She gestured to the small stack of sloppy notes on the edge of his desk. “Would you like for me to translate these into English for you?”

He smiled sheepishly. “If you wouldn't mind...”

“
Of course not.”

He took to his feet so she could sit down in his chair. “Last night, the answer came to me...”

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.