Touch Me - Page 103

"Simply that you got what you wanted in a wife. Your insistence that I make amends with my father is beginning to make sense. You married an earl's daughter and want the ton, particularly your father, to know it."

"Bloody hell. What crackbrained notion has a hold of you now?"

She looked down at her hands. Why had she taken off her gloves? She couldn't remember. Her fingers were cold, like the rest of her. She started to slide her gloves back on her hands, carefully pulling each wrinkle in the silk flat.

Her ring fell into her lap and she slid it back on, over the glove.

She raised her gaze to him. "It isn't a crackbrained notion. You want to prove to your father that you are as good as he is, even better maybe."

Drake said nothing, his mouth set.

"You built a shipping empire until you could buy and sell him several times. That wasn't enough, so you made plans to marry high in the ton. You believed that would prove the circumstances of your birth did not matter. That although your parents had not been married, you were still considered above reproach."

His eyes had lost their concerned softness and now burned with angry disbelief. "You think I married you to prove something to my father?"

"Why else?"

He stared at her as if she'd gone mad. "What about our child, or had you forgotten that tiny fact while creating this ludicrous scenario in your head?"

She rested her gloved hand against her abdomen and felt grief. "The lobster patties at the musicale were bad. Several people got sick from them."

He didn't look like he understood what she was saying. She spelled it out for him. "I wasn't morning sick. I'm not pregnant. I did not have to marry you."

"Morning sick or not, you could still be pregnant. The fact is, we behaved irresponsibly and marriage was our only alternative."

She wanted to refute his words, deny that marriage had been a necessity, but what would be the point? They were married now, and a small voice tormented her with the knowledge that, necessary or not, it was what she had wanted.

"Believe what you will. Why didn't you tell me your plan to marry well?"

His laughter was harsh. "You make it sound as if I betrayed you. It is an accepted practice for both ladies and gentlemen of the ton to marry well. My plans to seek such a wife this Season are certainly nothing to upset you now. I married you."

"Yes, you married me. But you intended for me to take my place in Society. You tried to convince me to on enough occasions that you cannot deny it now."

He expelled a frustrated breath. "I believed that you would be happier knowing your family." He leaned forward, intensity shimmering in the air between them. "I did not marry you in order to fulfill some underhanded desire to prove to my father that I am worthy."

She couldn't maintain eye contact, so she dropped her gaze to her lap. "I didn't say it was underhanded."

He tilted her chin up with his finger and wouldn't let her look away. "You think I only want you to know your father so that you can be recognized as an earl's daughter."

"Yes, I do believe that."

He dropped his hand away from her face and sat back.

His face lost all expression. "I know my reasons for marrying you, and I thought you did, too. Apparently I was wrong."

"I suppose there is my half of Merewether Shipping. It makes a sizable dowry, does it not?" she accused, reckless in her desperation for

him to deny such paltry reasons for marriage.

"Believe what you like."

He tossed her words back at her with cold precision, and she wanted to weep. She needed him to convince her that she was wrong, that he had married her for something other than a plan calculated to prove his value to the rest of the ton.

However, he remained broodingly silent for the remainder of the carriage ride to his town house. Their town house, she corrected herself. For better or worse, they were married.

When the carriage stopped, Drake stepped out and then turned to help her down. As soon as her feet were safely on the ground, he pulled his supporting hands away.

She wanted to protest. Where had the intimacy they had shared in her aunt's sitting room gone? She had to acknowledge that its disappearance was her fault. Drake wasn't the one accusing her of nefarious motives in marrying. She sighed and followed him into the house.

Tags: Lucy Monroe Historical
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