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Mayhap he would take rooms in Canterbury.
No. No.
Kingston needed—wanted—to be with his brothers and sisters. They’d been alone and neglected far too long as it was.
Vanessa must be the one persuaded to take rooms in town. After all, she’d not even wanted his family to know they were married. She’d likely be grateful for the reprieve.
And subject her to speculation and gossip?
But what if she did so because Quail Hollow House wasn’t up to par, and he, in good conscience, couldn't ask his future duchess to reside there?
A slow grin spread across his face.
It was the perfect solution.
Quail Hollow House wasn’t a hovel by any means, but an heiress accustomed to the very best money could afford would undoubtedly be uncomfortable in the humble house. A house that hadn’t seen any maintenance in close to a decade.
Now, truth be told, he was quite glad no improvements had been made yet. The rundown house would only substantiate the case he meant to present her.
Decision made, Kingston felt as if a great weight had been removed. Without her about all day long and sleeping beneath the same roof, they might actually pull this temporary marriage off. Renovations were notoriously lengthy, and a six-month refurbishing was quite feasible.
Indeed, it was probable.
He’d make sure of it and thereby grant her wish for separate residences while saving himself a permanent cockstand.
Vanessa stirred and sighed before her lashes fluttered, and she opened those brandy-colored eyes. Her gaze collided with his, and a shy smile swept her petal-soft lips upward. “Did I sleep long?”
Covering a dainty yawn, she leveled upright.
“A couple of hours. We’re nearly there.”
She bent forward and glanced out the window. “I see the township.” She cut him a sideways glance around the brim of her practical, unadorned bonnet before returning to her scrutiny of the landscape. “I’ve missed Canterbury.”
The Becket-Elligon family had never returned to the country after Vanessa’s mother had remarried.
“I thought you favored town life,” he said.
At that, she flopped back into her seat and wrinkled her nose. “I suppose it’s all right, but Patrick Elligon is the one who insisted we move to London. That’s where most of his businesses were. However, I’ve always preferred the clean air and more relaxed pace of country life. I enjoy hearing roosters crowing, cows mooing, and sheep bleating.”
He made a noncommittal sound, hoping she didn’t become so accustomed to country life that she elected to stay on after their vows were annulled. In point of fact, he didn’t know anyone who’d been divorced or had vows annulled. Both were rarities and not easily achieved.
Would it be so bad to remain married to her?
“Kingston?”
Pulling himself from his musings, he slid her a distracted glance. “Hmm?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
Suspicion reared its ugly head. Was the vixen going to attempt to manipulate him even though the specifics of their contract said he’d repay her with interest? She’d objected to that particular, but he’d insisted it wasn’t negotiable, or else the whole deal was impossible.
“What sort of favor?”
She peeped at him from beneath her lashes, then raised her gaze to meet his eyes directly. “Might I have a pet?”
“A pet?”
That was what she wanted?
