Page 15 of Surrender Your Grace (Impromptu Brides #1)

Two days before their return to London, three weeks after their wedding night—the one that truly mattered—Cici watched the bustling household staff from the parlor doorway.

Maids bustled about, while footmen hauled their empty trunks up the stairs to be packed.

Organized chaos reigned, but the well-trained staff had done it so often, they didn’t need her input.

She was only underfoot. Perhaps a ride would be refreshing.

Arms encircled her waist, her husband’s baritone humming in her ear. “Let’s escape the chaos and steal one last ride.”

She turned with a smile. “Did you read my mind?”

He winked. “If only.”

Confident in her reply, he had the horses ready and waiting out front.

“It’s warm today. Shall we take the path by the lake?”she asked as they set out.

“That’s precisely what I planned. Who’s reading whose mind now?”he replied.“I know a shady spot by the water where we can watch the ducks and heron.”

Excitedly, she asked,“Are there swans, by chance?”

“Indeed,”he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her fondly.

They’d been riding for about half an hour, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves as soothing as the peaceful countryside around them, when a sapphire-blue lake appeared. Instead of climbing to the hilltop overlook, Andrew veered off onto a sloped path and led her down to the grassy bank.

“Let’s walk and stretch our legs for a bit,”he suggested.

He helped her down and secured the horses before they strolled hand-in-hand along the water’s edge. Up ahead, she spotted a small boat moored to a dock.“Could we go fishing sometime?”

He glanced at her in surprise.“Do you know how?”

“Oh yes. Papa took me often when we were in the country. He thought I was a boy for ages! You can imagine his disappointment when I matured at thirteen and it became quite clear that I wasn’t.”

“His disappointment that you are not a boy is my joy.”

She smiled up at him, despite a blush that had nothing to do with the warm day.

A few weeks of living intimately as husband and wife hadn’t overcome her shyness.

Andrew,on the other hand, without a trace of self-consciousness, walked around her completely naked.

She wondered if she’d ever be that at ease around him.

“If I had known, I could have made the arrangements. Next time,” he promised. “I’ll want to check the boat’s seaworthiness first.”

“Fishing from the dock is fine,” she replied.

“That’s right. You can’t swim. We really need to see about lessons. Lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.”

“Yes. I vividly remember your last lesson.”

He stopped and pulled her into his arms. “It was most effective. I haven’t heard a single my lord or your lordship from your sweet lips since.”

His lips brushed hers in a tender kiss, sparking the now-familiar fires of desire within her. When he pulled back, he mistook the bloom of heat in cheeks for something else.

“Your face is pink. Let’s find you some shade.”

Andrew led her farther down the bank to a stand of silver birch, their elegant branches dipping toward the water.

In the shade beneath them stood a stone bench, inviting folks strolling by to linger and enjoy the surrounding natural beauty, and to watch the ducks and, as promised, swans paddling by.

When she sat, he settled beside her, stretched his long legs out before him, and pulled her into his side. When they were together, he wanted her close, which she didn’t mind.

She rested her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the quiet moment. Across the water, she spotted wildflowers, bright red poppies, and white and yellow oxeye daisies swaying in the breeze. And while she couldn’t pinpoint where they were growing, she detected the sweet scent of honeysuckle.

“It’s so peaceful here,”she sighed.“Let’s never go back to London.”

“Hiding away from the hustle and bustle of town is tempting,”he agreed.“But it’s impossible. We both have commitments in town—family, friends, and, with summer recess ending, I have my duties in the Lords.”

“Of course,”she murmured, trying but failing to hide her disappointment.

“Do you dislike living in town so much?”

“Not really. It’s just so...”She searched for a word to describe the artifice of the ton without being rude.

“It is‘just so,’isn’t it?”he replied, understanding, so she didn’t have to say more.

They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

Andrew was the first to speak.“You could stay here.”

Cici glanced at him in surprise.“At Arendale?”

“Yes. It’s close enough to London that you could attend special events, and I could visit at week’s end, occasionally. Kippford is quiet. Brighton is, too, during the off-season. But they are too far away and therefore out of the question for a primary residence.”

Her heart lurched as his suggestion. They had made great strides in the past few weeks, growing close and being at ease with one another, or so she thought.

She didn’t want to be like so many other couples, living separate lives.

The custom for the men to stay in town, attending to business and pleasure, while the women languished in the country, raising the children, didn’t sit right with her.

It brought up an issue she had been trying not to think about. But now she needed to know the answer with as much urgency as she needed to breathe.“May I ask an intimate question?”

“As I’ve said, there is nothing that can’t be shared between a husband and wife.”

She nodded, nervously brushing a blade of grass from her skirt.“I was wondering… Do you, uh—”

He covered her restless hands with one of his own.“Ask, Cici. I won’t bite.”

Gazing out over the water, feeling more than seeing his eyes burning into her, she took a deep breath and blurted out,“Do you have a convenient?”

When he didn’t immediately answer, she peeked up at him, registering the surprise on his face. Wives of the ton didn’t ask about their husbands’ dalliances.

“That’s a bold question,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

“You said we could share anything.”

He grunted. “I suppose I should be careful what I ask for.”

His attempt at humor fell flat. She took his lack of response as confirmation and averted her gaze. But he wouldn’t allow her to withdraw, either physically or emotionally. He cupped her chin in his palm, pausing until she looked at him.

“The answer is no. I don’t currently have a mistress. When I chose to pursue your sister, I ended our arrangement.”

That was more than some men would do.“Do you intend to find another now that you’ve secured a bride?”

She had to know but now was almost sorry she’d asked.

Maybe ignorance was bliss. What if his answer was yes?

It hurt imagining him with another woman.

She was na?ve, but not so much that she was oblivious to the fact that aristocratic men navigated the subculture of the demimonde with ease, while their wives turned a blind eye or at least pretended to.

Andrew leaned back against the bench and rubbed his face with both hands.

Appearing resigned to having this awkward conversation, he turned to face her.

“My father was a notorious rake before he married my mother.Once he settled down, he never looked at another woman.His friends and other male relatives were not so inclined.They kept mistresses in town or visited the brothels, thinking they were discreet. It’s laughable, because the scandal sheets have nullified that word. ”

“Gossip is the lifeblood of the ton,”Cici commented.“If a wife didn’t read about a husband’s liaisons in one of those rags, word would reach her ears, regardless.”

“This is the truth, and has been for years,”Andrew concurred.

“When I was a boy, my mother’s sister, Madeleine, learned about her husband’s infidelity in one of those gossip sheets.

She was not only devastated by his faithlessness but also publicly humiliated.

So much so, she left him and moved in with us.

”He leaned forward, elbows to his knees, all traces of humor and teasing vanished.

“My uncle tried to win her back, but the betrayal was too deep.She fell into a deep melancholia and eventually died of a broken heart.Uncle Edward still mourns her.To my knowledge, he hasn’t kept another mistress since her death.

He is a shell of a man, guilt-ridden and alone. ”

“What a horrid story.”

“Like many wealthy, powerful men, he fell into a trap, thinking he could do whatever he liked without consequences.”Andrew turned only his head to look at her.“I tell you this because I don’t want that for my marriage.”

“Were they a love match?”

“No. Their marriage was arranged,”he admitted, crushing the hope she’d begun to feel.

She wasn’t adept at schooling her features, and her disappointment must have shown.

He clasped both her hands.“That doesn’t mean we can’t do better. Only that we will have to work harder at it.”

“I don’t want us to live apart, or like strangers.”

“That is fortunate, because I don’t want that either. I have a beautiful, charming woman who will represent me well as my viscountess. Luckily, there is a spark between us. I say we nurture it and keep it burning, so there is no risk of us ending up like Edward and Madeleine.”

“You’re saying you want a lady in the ballroom—”She stopped abruptly before finishing the scandalous adage she’d overheard on more than one occasion.

“And a harlot in the bedroom?”he supplied, as chagrined as she that she had almost said it.“How did you hear such a thing? Did your mother neglect to chaperone you?”

“You’ll remember my mother was solely focused on Elizabeth’s prospects. And I’m very good at blending into the wallpaper and potted plants.”