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“I know they are a preference of yours. Do not worry; the second title is more to my liking.”
Prue choked. “I will not read a book about machinery and farming.”
“Do not dismiss it out of hand. It has some exciting concepts on crop rotations.”
Picking up a chess piece, she tossed it at him but shrieked when he destroyed the setting of the board to haul her into his lap. They kissed for a long time before pausing so she could sate her hunger. They ate together, talking about all sorts of topics, from the tensions in his political party, to repairs that needed to be done at the ancestral estate. Afterward, they played seven rounds of chess, with Prue winning three of the set. The evening passed in a blur of laughter and reading and more kissing.
Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach, and warm and tender emotions wreaked havoc with her heart. With stunning awareness, Prue realized she was tumbling into love with her husband. Somehow in her quest for Oscar to fall in love with her, Prue had not thought about the fact that she was not in love with him either. She liked what she knew of him, was wildly attracted to his handsomeness, and respected his political beliefs. But only now that she was learning her husband did her heart soften and ache for him in a manner it had not before.
The awareness felt frightening and also wonderful.
Chapter Eleven
Oscar laughed as his countess thundered past him, thrusting her hands in the air and hollering her victory like a wild jungle woman. Amazement gripped him that she had this playful, competitive side. He should have known, when they played chess, he was not able to sneak in a kiss. Her concentration was too fierce, especially when she was determined to trounce him. She had been very determined to beat him in this race, and she had, fairly and impressively. His countess was a damn splendid horsewoman.
“Be careful you do not break your pretty little neck,” he shouted, considering she had not brought the horse to a standstill and still had her hands in the air.
Gripping the reins, she slowed the animal and spun to face him. They were at Hyde Park at the unholy hour at 4 in the morning so that his wife could ride freely in breeches without inciting a public scandal. One was already happening in his house. The bloody servants grinned from ear to ear whenever they spied him with his countess. Perhaps it was to be expected, for they had been wrapped in each other’s arms for the last two days, loving and laughing. And then yesterday, his butler had witnessed Oscar chasing his wife up the stairs, for she had gotten under his guard and tripped him in defiance of him after telling her she was forbidden to attend the scandalous, decadent masquerade ball Countess Meade hosted annually.
“You think to order me about without hearing why I want to attend?” she’d cried.
“I am your lord and master, and I said it will be far too scandalous for you to attend, for any decent lady of society to attend.”
She had spluttered for several seconds, and when he’d reached out to draw her into his arms, the minx had once again dropped him on his backside, with a toss of her head and a tart retort that no man was her master, not even one she loved kissing and bedding. Oscar had been stunned for a moment before he had recovered his wits and thought to retaliate, knowing of her ticklishness.
He was acting like a besotted fool when he had worked all his life to be practical and responsible. His father had left him with an estate laden with debt, its many lands and estates houses had been in dire need of funding to enable adequate repairs and staffing. Despite his wife’s dowry having helped with the situation, he had to plan for supporting his children, wife, and family in the future. It was up to him to make sure his staff, workers and tenants were in good health and that their dependents were cared for. He had put aside a generous widow’s portion for her— a stately manor in Derbyshire and a portion of ten thousand pounds a year.
Oscar should be in his study going over his investment reports and the expenditure on the new farming techniques which had been implemented at two of their minor estates including the necessary repair costs and some further investment there. He had managed their finances and investments with shrewdness lest he make the mistakes of his forefathers. The serious depredation on their family fortunes had not begun with his grandfather. His more distant ancestors had been a rum lot. Some had brought in funds by methods he considered unacceptable, dubious and in one case positively illegal. There were plenty of skeletons in his family closets that he did not want to examine too thoroughly. And he admitted to himself that the rest had been either incompetent wastrels or debauched spendthrifts. His grandfather seemed to have been the worst of the whole damn bunch of them. He had combined licentious delusions of grandeur with utter selfishness and had apparently been incapable to budget or restrain his expensive tastes. Oscar was of the opinion that if his grandfather had not taken a devasting fall in the hunting field when reportedly in his cups that his descendants would be living in adject poverty. His father had tried his best to recover their fortunes and had made some retrenchment in the family expenses but had only sunken them into a deeper hole, for he had married for love and not practicality. No, the baton of saving the family had been passed to him, and he had done his duty.
Yet he had put aside work for today, the fourth day at that, simply to spend more time with his wife. A pastime he had immensely enjoyed. Oscar had discovered that he adored his wife’s wit, humor, and her vivacity for life. He had to admit that she had never worried him by over-spending her allowance or insisting on getting involved in some half-baked scheme. She had been a good chatelaine to his homes, neither penny-pinching nor unduly wasteful. In fact, she had taken some of the onerous burden from his shoulders by her good management. He had not appreciated it sufficiently before, but he had noticed her care for the staff and that everything run more smoothly since their marriage. Although young and untried she had gained the respect of his people and the minor squabbles and disasters which had taken up much of his time had simply vanished with the arrival of his bride.
There was something about her that simply turned his world on its head. And not for the first time, he realized he was damned lucky the woman he married was not only charming in appearance and also delightful in her character.
Prue trotted over to him, tugging the cap she wore to protect her identity even lower over her face.
“That my lord was glorious, would you like to race once more? I think we have at least another hour before anyone else comes to the park.”
He turned his horse about to trot beside her down the lane. “I would like to know who taught you how to land a man on his arse.”
She sent him a swift and contemplative sideways glance. “Must I tell you?”
“Was it another man?”
She grinned. “You are so growly when you are possessive. I like it.”
He arched a brow and suppressed his smile at her teasing countenance.
“It was indeed a gentleman. However, he was a tutor, and I was never alone in a room with him.” She bit into her lower lip, worrying at the flesh with her teeth before she said, “I am worried you might not approve.”
An odd feeling pressed tightly against his chest. He stared at his wife’s expression for a long time. She was flushed and uncomfortable, but what he had come to know about her these last few days always indicated a woman of fierce loyalty and such kindness. The damn woman was also damnably possessive. He still recalled her threats to duel with him should he dishonor their vows. It stood to reason she would never be unfaithful. Something turned over inside his chest at the awareness that he trusted her when he had only learned to trust in himself since he had inherited the earldom when he was three and twenty.
“And you fear my disapproval?”
“More my reaction to it.”
How unusual. “And what reaction would that be, my lady?”
She wrinkled her nose. “More dropping on your derriere, I’m afraid. This place… is very important to me.”
