Page 102 of Marry in Scandal

Her face crumpled. “Oh, Edward, I want to, I truly want to.” Hot tears prickled behind her eyes.

“I gave you my word before we were married that I’d never lie to you.”

She shook her head. “You took that promise back.”

“No,youtook it back,” he said with quiet emphasis. “I gave you my word of honor that day. I meant it then and I mean it now.”

He put a lot of store in his word of honor, she remembered. He’d also promised that after they were married he’d be faithful to her.

“You really don’t have a mistress?” she whispered.

“No, I don’t.”

“Promise?”

He said in a hard voice, “I gave youmy word.” He wasso obviously offended by the suggestion that she believed him.

The relief was enormous. Tears rolled down her cheek. She dashed them away. “I’m so sorry, Edward. I didn’t want to believe it, but I wastold, you see. Told that lots of people knew. And then—then I saw you with that woman and, and...”

He pulled out a handkerchief and dried her cheeks. “Hush now. Even if I hadn’t given you my word, I have neither the time nor the energy to keep a mistress—and certainly not the inclination. I’m married to this irresistible young lady, you see...”

He drew her against him, tilted her face up and lowered his mouth to hers. As always, one thing led to another and he took her to bed and made love to her, slow, tender and a little bittersweet.

She loved him. She ached to tell him, but she couldn’t, not now, after their first quarrel. It would be the worst time in the world for that—even if he wanted it, which he’d made it clear he didn’t.

She’d taken a risk, accusing him of infidelity. She didn’t regret it, though, because it had cleared the air. More or less. She lay quietly, enjoying the sensation of being snuggled close to her big warm husband.

“Go to sleep if you like,” he said, sitting up. “I have to go out.”

He slipped out of bed and started to dress.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

She made an irritated sound, and he turned. “What?”

“You’re always so secretive.”

“What do you mean?

“This, this ‘business’ of yours that I’m not allowed to know about, and why do you have to sleep the night in your club so often?” She gave him a half-embarrassed look. “It gave credence to the rumors about you having a mistress.”

He didn’t answer. He was tying his neckcloth. But when he finished he said, “I stay away from you for several nights a week in order to spare you.”

“Spare me from what? I don’t mind if you come in late, or drunk, or smelling of cigars.”

“From my attentions.” She gave him a puzzled look, so he went on. “In the hotel we have only one bed. Since we’ve been living here, I’ve made love to you every single night I’ve slept here. And then—because I awake and find you in my bed, I make love to you again in the morning.”

“Yes, what of it?” He said it as if it were a problem. She didn’t find it so. Quite the contrary.

“It occurred to me that it might be too much for you—my intemperate desire. Morning and night and then morning again.” He made a rueful gesture. “And at other times, like now.”

She couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t she made it clear how she felt? “Edward, I amthrilledwhenever we make love—however often, whatever time. Surely you know that? The nights you’ve stayed at your club, only a few minutes’ walk away, I thought you didn’t want me.” She took a deep breath and added, “And when I thought you’d taken a mistress I thought it was because I hadn’t pleased you in bed.”

He stared down at her with a look of amazement. “How could you possibly think that?” He gave a harsh laugh. “A fine pair we make: me thinking I was pestering you too much, and you imagining you didn’t please me enough. For the record, madam, let it be known that you drive me wild with desire, and everything you do pleases me enormously.”

“Truly?”