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He wiped his hands and downed another glass of Scotch. He looked down at himself, still hard as if he’d not just climaxed.

Go to her, it seemed to say.

“Hell no,” he muttered to himself, hoping that hearing the words out loud would help to rid his mind of the foolhardy course it was about to take.

It would be oh so easy to go up the stairs and lose himself in her willing arms, but when the act was done?

Wouldn’t she want what all women wanted? She’d claimed she didn’t want to marry, but eventually, even she might want children, and that had never been in the cards for him.

Wouldn’t she act like other women when desperate to get her way, throwing tantrums and attempting to manipulate him?

The darkness of his thoughts kept him in his seat, staring off into the fire. It would be a damned near painful decision to stay away from his alluring bride, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to ensure he had peace.

He took another sip of the dark amber liquid and let it roll around his tongue, savoring its flavors.

It was better this way.

He reclined on the sofa, deciding he’d make do rather than stir up rumors by asking the maids to prepare another chamber for him.

He didn’t know when sleep took him, but when he opened his eyes, the sun had just started its ascent over the horizon.

His neck and body felt sore from maintaining the only position he could sleep in on the small sofa, considering how little sleep he’d had since his dreams had been haunted by visions of his wife’s curvy frame.

“I hope you do not make a habit of sleeping in your study?” Charles, his brother, asked, looking pointedly at him.

Edward rolled his eyes and stretched, groaning at how his joints protested his choice of bed.

“Good morning to you too, Brother,” he greeted once he felthis limbs loosen up. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I awoke to a most surprising piece of information, and I came to ascertain its credibility.”

Edward stiffened but righted himself, busying his hands with arranging the papers on his desk. He’d wanted to wait until after breakfast to have this conversation and not a moment sooner.

Discussing this with Charles now would mean he’d have to have the unpleasant conversation twice.

“I know you know what I’m referring to, Edward,” Charles accused, his voice strained. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Edward sighed. “I can’t.”

“You got married.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Damn.” Charles shook his head, sliding into the seat his brother had just vacated. “Who is she?”

“She’s the middle sister of the Earl of Thorne…”

“Ridlington’s in-law?”

“Yes.”

Charles frowned deeply, and it was all Edward needed to know that an onslaught of disapproving comments was coming his way.

“I know what you want to say, but don’t.” He held up a hand to ward him off. “She’s not pregnant, and she comes from a good family.”

“But—”

“We’ll discuss this after breakfast.”