His Reluctant Lady (24 page)

“
I’ll show you I’m telling
you the truth.”

He shrugged. “If you say
so…”

The carriage came to a stop and her
gaze lowered to his erection. “You might want to think of something
uninteresting before the footman opens the door.”

So she’d notice his discomfort after
all. “Very well,” he muttered and closed his eyes. Within seconds
he went limp.

“
How did you do that so
fast?” she whispered.

He almost refused to tell her but then
figured there was no harm in telling her. “I imagined Lady
Cadwalader naked.”

Her jaw dropped. “Naked?”

He shuddered. “You know why. She’s
atrocious.”

The footman opened the door, preventing
her from replying.

“
After you, my love,”
Christopher said, motioning to her sister’s townhouse. “I’m ready
to be bored as you ladies gab about the wedding.”

Though she rolled her eyes, he sensed a
smile tugging at her lips and grinned. The poor lady tried so hard
to appear as if few things affected her, but he knew she felt
deeply about everything that happened. Perhaps once she could admit
how much she enjoyed making love to him, she could embrace her
other emotions more easily. He followed her out of the carriage,
resigned to wasting his time as she rambled on with her aunt and
sister. If that didn’t prove his love for her, he didn’t know what
did. With any luck, some day she’d understand that.

***

“
Well?” Ethan asked as
Christopher sat beside him at White’s two days later.

Christopher glanced at his friend.
“Well what?”

“
Did you get her to admit
she wants you in her bed?”

He glowered at him.

“
I see you didn’t,” Ethan
replied then gathered his cards and motioned for him to get ready
to play a game with him. “Why torture yourself? You might as well
let her win.”

“
I can’t.”

With a sigh, he shook his head. “I
don’t understand you at all. Why deny yourself the pleasure if all
you have to do is lose a silly bet?”

“
Probably for the same
reason you gave up gambling for money. Love.”

“
I gave up gambling for
money because her father threatened to kill me if I didn’t, though
I also came to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth it since I can’t
lose a game to save my life.”

“
But you did stop seeking
pleasure in the arms of other ladies.”

“
There was no sacrifice on
that end.” Before Christopher could respond, he said, “Lord
Pennella was asking where you were earlier today.”

“
Really? Why?” Christopher
accepted some cards from Ethan, relieved the conversation was no
longer on Agatha.

“
I suppose he wanted to talk
to you.”

“
I’d assume so since he
asked about me.”

Ethan looked at the cards in his hand
then at his friend. “Any idea why he’d want to talk to
you?”

“
If he thinks he’s going to
take Agatha as a lover, I’ll have to tell him he’d have a better
chance of warming himself with ice.”

“
That’s not very
nice.”

“
I didn’t mean for it be. He
shared a dance with her at his ball, and I didn’t like the way he
was looking at her.”

“
You think his motives were
intimate?”

“
I don’t know what his
motives were, but he wanted her to think he harbored sexual
interest in her. I think he wanted me to see him with
her.”

“
You’re
paranoid.”

“
Am I?”

Christopher couldn’t come out and tell
Ethan that she exposed the wager Pennella had with Davenport and
that Pennella had confronted her on it. At the time, he thought
there was nothing to worry about, that Pennella was being a sore
loser, but if he made it a point to ask Ethan where he was… There
was no telling what that meant.

“
I might not know everything
there is to know about ladies,” Ethan began, “but I do know if they
feel loved, they won’t want to take a lover.”

“
You know this because your
past dalliances told you this?”

Ethan sighed. “I’m trying to help you.
You want Agatha to pursue you? Love her.”

“
I already do love her, and
yes, I’ve made it a point of showing her that. This isn’t about
whether or not she feels loved. It’s about her being so stubborn
that she can’t admit she loves me, that she wants to share all of
herself with me; heart, body, and soul.”

“
Hmm…”

“
Hmm...what?”

“
I wouldn’t have taken you
for a romantic.”

“
I wouldn’t call myself a
romantic.”

“
Really?” Ethan asked with
an amused smile. “Then what would you call yourself?”

“
I call myself an idealist.
I like the idea of being married to someone I want to be married
to.”

“
Which is a love match.
Which is romantic.”

“
Why be miserable when you
can be happy?”

“
Another romantic notion.
Most couples marry for convenience, not to be happy.”

Christopher rolled his eyes. “That
might work for some, but it won’t work for me. I don’t want to
merely get by in life. I want to enjoy every moment of it.” Before
his friend could respond, he said, “I know, I know.
Romantic.”

“
If there’s any consolation,
Catherine and I happen to love each other. Romantic is not only
ideal but it makes life worth living.”

“
Fine. Then I admit it. I’m
a romantic.” Smiling, Christopher turned his attention to the
game.

Chapter Twenty-One

Agatha pressed her quill to the paper
and eagerly wrote the next sentence. Who knew Christopher’s advice
would yield such benefits? She was in the middle of a paragraph
when someone opened the door to the drawing room. Expecting it to
be Christopher, she glanced at the door, wondering why he was back
from White’s so soon. But it wasn’t Christopher.

“
Ethan?” she asked,
recognizing the dark cloak that her friend wore every time he snuck
into her townhouse.

He closed the door and lowered the
hood.

“
I told you I was going to
send word when I was ready for you to give my story to the
publisher,” she said. “Though I’m going to need more time than I
originally thought. I came up with some new ideas that are going to
make this one better than the others I’ve done.” She gestured to
the decanter. “Help yourself.”

Ethan bypassed the decanter and removed
his cloak before he sat across from her. “Why do you have to be so
stubborn?”

She finished the next sentence then
asked, “I can’t give this story to the publisher until it’s the
best it can be.”

“
No, that’s not what I
meant. Why do you have to be so stubborn when it comes to
Christopher?”

She held her quill in mid-stroke and
studied his face to make sure he wasn’t teasing her. “What does
Christopher have to do with my story?”

“
Nothing. But I saw him
today at White’s, and he was miserable.”

She rolled her eyes and resumed
writing. “So I talked my sister into accepting Lord Clement’s
proposal? What’s so bad about that? Even if he is boring—something
I can’t verify—it’s not the worst thing that can happen. He’ll be
good to her. For sure, he’ll be better than Mister
Landry.”

“
It’s not about
that.”

“
Oh?” She finished another
paragraph and started the next one.

He leaned forward in his chair. “Will
you listen to me?”

“
I am listening. I can write
and listen to you at the same time.”

With a sigh, he said, “Make love to
your husband.”

Her hand slipped, marking up the entire
paper with an ugly line. Her gaze shot up to him. “I know we’re
friends, but there are some things even you shouldn’t be able to
say to me.”

“
Oh, let the whole propriety
nonsense slide, Agatha. You and I both know you’re not as proper as
you pretend to be.”

“
I don’t go around
discussing things that happen in my love life.”

“
Or lack thereof,” he
mumbled with a shake of his head.

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I don’t see
what business it is of yours.”

“
It’s my business when your
husband mopes about it.”

Her face grew warm. “He
what?”

“
Does it really matter if he
told me about the ridiculous bet you two made? The point is, he’s
your husband, and he loves you. He’s nothing at all like
Albert.”

“
I asked you not to say his
name.” She hated thinking of her first husband, especially by his
first name.

“
I said it to make a
point.”

“
Which is?”

“
Which is to stop being
stubborn and go to Christopher’s bed. What does it matter who wins
or loses? He loves you. Isn’t that enough?”

“
You don’t understand the
nature of our bet. It’s not something we’re doing out of spite or
to gain an advantage. It’s done out of good humor.”

“
He’s not
laughing.”

She chuckled. “He’s fine. This whole
bet was his idea, not mine. Did he bother to tell you that while
you two were discussing my intimate life?”

“
Like Christopher and I
talking about
your
intimate life is any different than Catherine telling you she
draws naked images of me.”

After a moment, she conceded. “All
right. I suppose it’s similar, in a way.”

“
It’s similar, a
lot.”

“
And so you feel at liberty
to tell me to jump into my husband’s bed and tell him he’s won a
bet that he established? And all for what? To save his
pride?”

“
No. To save his sanity. You
have no idea how agonizing it is for a gentleman to go without it
once he gets used to it.”

She hid the urge to offer a retort
since she was in just as much discomfort, if not more so, than
Christopher. But did she go off to moan to someone about it? No.
She kept her frustrations to herself like any decent person would.
“If he’s in that much agony, then he can come to my
bed.”

He groaned. “I had no idea you could be
so heartless.”

“
And I had no idea you could
be such a meddler.”

“
I think I’m beginning to
understand why he’s putting himself through so much torment. If he
goes to your bed, he’ll never hear the end of it.”

With a slight intake of her breath, she
pressed her hand to her chest. “Contrary to what you believe, I do
have feelings.”

“
It wouldn’t hurt for you to
show those feelings once in awhile. A gentleman wants to know his
wife loves him and desires him. It doesn’t mean she’s weak. It
means he’s safe giving his heart to her.” He rose to his feet and
slipped back into the cloak. “I can see that any more attempts to
reason with you will be in vain, so I’ll be on my way.”

“
Before you go…” she called
out, standing up in case she needed to run over and stop
him.

He paused halfway to the door and
turned to her. “What?”

“
Do you know if Christopher
likes gothic horror?”

“
He enjoys it immensely.
Why?”

“
I was just curious.” It was
nice to know he had been telling her the truth about enjoying it.
She’d hate to think he only said it in order to read her work, as a
way to get closer to her.

He shrugged and raised the hood of his
cloak to conceal his face. “All right.”

She watched as he left the drawing
room. He was probably right about her needing to reveal her
feelings, but she’d spent years learning to mask them. Revealing
them wasn’t as easy as he made it sound. She couldn’t just come out
and tell Christopher she wanted him, whether it was in or out of
bed. It wasn’t as easy as Ethan made it sound. Sitting back in her
chair, she picked up the quill, but it took ten minutes before she
was able to continue writing.

***

Agatha brushed her hair, her gaze going
once more to the door connecting her bedchamber with Christopher’s.
She sighed. Should she go to his bedchamber? She hadn’t ventured in
there, and she doubted he’d be expecting her. Sure, he’d hope, but
he probably didn’t plan on it. She weighed Ethan’s words. As much
as she was loathe to admit it, he made some good points earlier
that day. A gentleman who loved his wife would probably like it if
she admitted that she wanted to be with him, and Christopher
probably loved her. At least he cared much more for her than anyone
else did. If there was anyone she could be vulnerable with, it was
him.

The clock down the hall chimed midnight
and she slammed her brush on the vanity. She didn’t like this.
Besides feeling vulnerable, she also didn’t like knowing she needed
to make love with him. Grimacing, she shifted in her chair, aware
of the ache between her legs. Blast it, it was all his fault! If he
hadn’t been so good at making love, she’d be just fine. Before, she
had no idea that it could feel good, and now that she did, it was
difficult to go without it.