“Of course I’ve bedded her, you dolt! After we arrived at Everdene and broke the news of our elopement to her family.”
“I’m just astonished at your…restraint. There is more to it than this. I can see it in your eyes. What the devil happened? You know I won’t let up until you tell me.”
Lucien sucked in a deep breath. “I presented her with a box containing the Harcourt jewels. I thought it would please her after having to deal with her father. She cared not a whit about them.”
“You did what?”
“She is entitled to jewels as my viscountess. Any woman I’ve ever known would have been delighted. She barely looked at them.”
“Exactly when did you present this box of trinkets?” Arkwright asked.
“When I came to her bedchamber for the first time.”
“Right before you bedded her?”
“Can you think of a better time?”
“Any time but that,” Arkwright burst out. “One lavishes pretty baubles on one’s mistress as payment for services rendered. A wife is a different matter. If you would like my expert advice…”
“What I’d like is for you to sod off.”
Arkwright stared, and Lucien didn’t like the keen edge to his gaze. “Can’t do it. I’m your best friend. No one knows what a bastard you can be better than I do. I’m bound to notice when you start acting human. It’s damned disconcerting.”
Lucien hesitated a moment, then said gruffly, “She’s lonely.”
“You’ve only just now figured that out?” Arkwright’s animated grin softened, and he looked at Grace, who wassharing half of her bun with a child who had none. “What did you expect, going from a house full of family to being your wife?”
“I have told her to go to the shops and buy anything she wishes.” He frowned. “Giselle and my other mistresses were always pleased when I offered them such things.”
“Trinkets are not the kind of thing Grace would be pleased with.” Arkwright picked up a pebble and flung it into the Serpentine. “Your brilliancy is so blinding, I’m surprised you can see your nose on your face.”
“What do you even buy for a woman who turns down jewelry?” Lucien asked.
“I know the perfect gift.” Arkwright clapped him on the back, his enthusiasm jarring as a trumpet blast.
“Out with it, man. Lest you find yourself walking back to Curzon Street.”
“A dog.”
“You mean a coursing dog or a hound?”
Arkwright looked so damned pleased with himself Lucien wanted to shake him. “Not a hound, you dolt. A wee little thing to tie ribbons on and lavish with kisses.”
Lucien’s jaw dropped. “Are you mad?”
“Grace misses her brothers. Puppies and boys are much the same.”
“Indeed. They shed all over everything.”
“I think my publisher just whelped a litter. Spaniels.”
One more set of pleading eyes begging for something Lucien couldn’t give? “Absolutely not.”
“Either get her a puppy or you’ll have to spend time with her yourself.”
“How is that even a choice?”
“Yes, such a hardship. She clearly likes you, though I cannot guess why.” His face sobered as he gave Lucien a long, searching look. “Everyone needs affection.”
