Page 33 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

She gave a small nod. ‘I understand. Any travels together would be awkward.’ Her voice was calm, but she worried her bottom lip again, a nervous habit he had begun to notice. His eyes, against his better judgement, were drawn once more to her mouth.

‘If you are gone tomorrow, may I go shopping?’ she asked, her voice lighter.

‘You want to buy dresses?’

‘No,’ she said, setting her glass down carefully. ‘I’d like to purchase a microscope and other supplies.’

That was not the reply he’d expected. But then, Nora had never been predictable. ‘I have no objection.’

Her green eyes watched him. ‘A microscope is costly.’ Her voice held the quiet reserve of someone accustomed to being denied.

‘I expect it is.’ Was she worried about the expense? She had no reason to be. His was a wealthy man, and her scientific pursuits would barely dent his accounts.

‘Do I have an allowance?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he replied simply. ‘It is not necessary.’

One delicate eyebrow rose. ‘You do not fear I’ll drain your coffers? Run up ruinous debts in pursuit of lenses and specimen trays?’

He let out a gruff laugh. ‘No. I doubt you could empty my accounts if you bought a dozen microscopes. Or a dozen ballgowns for that matter.’

Her lips parted, and her eyes widened with something like wonder. Other than her father, had no one ever been generous or supportive of her before?

‘I told you it was part of our arrangement, and I intend to keep my word,’ he said. ‘You married me under unusual circumstances. I’d not renege on what I promised.’

‘I know…it’s just—’

‘Just what?’ he asked gently. He wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about her. Did she truly not believe him? Or did she think he’d establish limitations?

‘Lord Umbridge would have never allowed it.’ Her voice dropped, and she looked away.

‘Who?’ he asked, before the name sparked recognition. ‘Ah. Yes. The Baron your mother tried to pair you with.’

She nodded, folding her hands in her lap. Her voice was low. ‘He’d often remind me he was quite frugal.’

For some reason, the reminder of the Baron did not sit well with him, and his jaw clenched at the thought of that pompous man anywhere near her, dictating terms.

‘There’s no need to speak of him now, is there?’ he said, more sharply than intended.

‘You’re right. There’s no need. Especially on our wedding night.’

She might be uncomfortable discussing money. Meanwhile, he struggled because of a different matter—suppressing the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless until her worries were eased and she thought of nothing but him. Would her nipples be rosy or a dusty pink? Would the curls between her legs match her auburn hair? The erotic images would invade his dreams.

His restraint, he told himself, was for both their benefit. She never wanted to marry, and they both had work in mind. She needed time before they embarked on their agreement to produce an heir. As for himself, his past was not easily forgotten no matter how young he’d been. Matters of the heart were not for him and he had no interest in love. Why would he? Love was a foolish emotion and a distraction from what truly mattered. He’d had his heart broken once and only once and would never let it happen again.

As his wife, he’d give Nora every respect. He’d uphold his promise to fund her science. But he’d never give her his heart.

Lust was a different matter.

Lust was not love. And he did desire her. Badly.

‘I was thinking about my role as Countess,’ she said, her voice steady again. ‘When will we be introduced to Society?’

He was grateful for the change of topic. Speaking of mundane Society events would cool his heated thoughts. ‘We’ve received an invitation to Lady Leticia’s garden party.’ He poured himself more whisky. ‘It’s less formal than a ball. She’s eccentric, but very well-connected. It will be a good place to start.’

She bit her lip again. ‘A garden party? I’ve never attended one. My father was a tradesman, and we rarely received invitations.’

He studied her face. ‘We could always decline.’