Page 32 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

‘Nora.’

She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. ‘I realize our wedding was unusual—’

‘The ceremony was perfectly normal,’ he said with a shrug, ‘so I assume you speak of our arrangement.’

‘Yes.’ She hesitated. ‘You did not intend to marry.’

‘Neither did you. At least…not how it came about. But here we are.’

‘Yes. And it’s our wedding night.’ She eyed the whisky on the sideboard. ‘And yet here you sit. Alone.’

His eyes followed hers to the decanter. ‘You needn’t worry. I do not intend to visit your bed tonight.’

She gave a dry little laugh. ‘I came to that understanding. But why?’

He looked into the fire for a moment before turning back to her. ‘You need time to adjust to our…to your…situation.’

‘I do?’ she asked.

‘Yes. I have never forced a woman,’ he said, his voice low but firm, ‘and I won’t start with my wife.’

Uncertain how to respond, she decided to be grateful and yet she could not quite rid herself of an odd flicker of disappointment. What was wrong with her? She should be relieved and appreciative of his consideration. Still, she acknowledged she was wildly curious.

‘Is it something I’ve done?’

‘No. It’s not you. Never you. Like I said, our circumstances are different than the typical marriage.’

He did not need to explain more. ‘Thank you,’ she said finally, though her voice lacked conviction. She didn’t trust herself to say more.

Instead, she walked to the sideboard and surveyed the colourful bottles. ‘May I have a drink?’

‘Madeira?’ he offered.

‘Whisky,’ she replied.

His only response to the strong drink was a slight twitch to his eyebrow. Without comment, he met her at the sideboard and poured a finger’s worth into a crystal tumbler and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed, briefly, and it startled her more than it should have.

She crossed to an armchair opposite him and sat with her legs folded beneath her. Ralston waited until she was settled before returning to his chair. She sipped her whisky, which burned down her throat then settled warm and low in her belly.

She was aware of him watching her, his dark eyes unreadable. What was going through his mind? Did he resent having a wife? Was she an inconvenience, a burden? As they sat together in the library on their wedding night, she had no idea what her husband was thinking.

Ralston watched Nora lift the crystal to sip her whisky. A single drop clung to her bottom lip before her tongue flicked out to capture it. He shifted in his leather armchair, forcing himself to remain still. Did his bride know how much he wanted her?

When she’d first entered the library, she’d stood before the marble hearth, framed by the flickering firelight, completely unaware that the sheer silk gown clung to her slender figure and revealed far too much to his hungry gaze. He could see the outline of a long, shapely leg, the gentle curve of her hip, and, to his dismay and fascination, the shadowed peak of one breast.

Good God.

Did she have any idea how difficult it had been for him not to seek her out tonight?

It had taken every shred of discipline he possessed not to stride across the room, open the door that adjoined their bedchambers and join her. Make love to his wife on their wedding night and give in to the fierce desire he’d felt for her ever since she’d slipped into his bed at the house party. They were married now, in name and law. Still, he wasn’t a cad, and he’d decided to act honorably and give her time to adjust to a married life she hadn’t wanted. But at this moment, his honor, felt like a cumbersome and inconvenient virtue.

It had been this way during the wedding vows and the breakfast afterwards. He’d snuck glances at his wife, had worked hard to keep the longing out of his eyes. Surely, all the guests would see. He was even having a difficult time thinking of his bill. Would she distract him like this forever?

He cleared his throat, more harshly than he intended. ‘Tomorrow is a new day. You must be curious about your new home and anxious to resume your work.’

She glanced at him over the rim of her glass. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

‘As am I,’ he said, trying to recover some formality. ‘The first reading of my bill is tomorrow. I’ll be gone most of the day. I apologize for the lack of a honeymoon. I didn’t expect to marry, let alone so swiftly.’