Lord Garson’s Bride (Dashing Widows 7) - Page 15

“All the worthwhile qualities.”

“But none of the glamorous ones.”

“You could develop those, you know. It’s a matter of confidence and audacity.”

She responded with a short laugh, although something about his assessing gaze made her shift uncomfortably on the leather seat. “I almost think you mean that.”

He didn’t smile back. “I do with all my heart.”

“I appreciate you trying to bolster my spirits.”

He still didn’t smile. “Susan only tried to upset you, because she’s jealous that you’re stepping out of the shadows at last.”

Jane couldn’t contain another laugh, although Hugh sounded serious about this nonsense. “Why on earth would she be jealous? She’s got everything she wants. She was a winsome child and a beautiful girl. In her first season, she was counted a diamond of the first water, and she made a love match with a dear man, who also happens to be nicely plump in the pocket. Now she has five high-spirited children.” Who were spoiled little horrors, but she wasn’t going into that now. “Whereas I’ve been on the shelf for years, and she’s well aware you and I aren’t in love. No, you’re wrong about Susan, but I’m grateful that you’re on my side. It’s very…husbandly.”

His lips flattened, but instead of continuing the argument, he sent her a searching glance. “I’m always on your side, Jane. I hope you know that.”

She met that somber, dark brown gaze, and any urge to object dissipated. “Thank you.”

As she turned back to the window, she found herself agreeing with Susan. Any woman would be lucky to marry Hugh Rutherford.

*

Chapter Six

*

Wearing a heavy crimson silk dressing gown over his nakedness, Garson knocked at the bedroom door. On the way home after Jane had agreed to marry him, he’d stopped here at the Red Lion in Salisbury and reserved their best set of rooms for his wedding night.

If Morwenna waited for him, he’d be burning with eagerness. But while he wasn’t mad with desire, the more he saw of Jane, the more pleased he was with his choice. The prospect of holding his bride in his arms was surprisingly appealing.

He’d always thought of her fondly. She’d been a plucky, open-hearted child, and he admired her devotion to her family. But over the years, he’d forgotten the hint of salt that enlivened her sweetness. And he was avid to discover the secrets of her body. That purple traveling ensemble she wore when they left Cavell Court had clung close enough to remind him of her magnificent figure.

He’d never appreciated the fashion for little dolls like Susan. He preferred a woman with a bit of heft to her. Jane was long of limb, with a superb, deep bosom. She looked like a woman who could give a man a run for his money.

He was about to find out if that was true. When he heard her soft invitation to enter, he felt unexpectedly keen.

Jane was sitting up in bed, looking terrified.

Dear God.

“Jane, are you all right?” He stepped forward, then stopped where he stood when she shrank back against the carved oak headboard and clasped the blankets to her chest.

“Yes,” she said in a quavery voice.

“You don’t sound it,” he said with a smile, hoping to ease the room’s fraught atmosphere.

Her delicate throat moved as she swallowed. That thick white nightgown was the least bridal garment he’d seen in his life. It covered her to the collarbones.

Her hair almost made up for all that flannel. He couldn’t help staring entranced at the mane of rich red flowing over her shoulders. He’d often pictured her hair unbound, but this abundant beauty stole his breath. His heart began to beat faster, and the call of pleasure inched aside the command of duty.

“I promised I’d do my part,” she said in a reedy voice utterly unlike her usual mellow contralto.

He glanced across at the dinner he’d had sent up. He’d assumed she’d want time to rest and gather her thoughts before he came to her. When they reached the inn, he’d noted her exhaustion. She still looked exhausted, and scared out of her wits as well.

“I know you did.” Instead of approaching her, he crossed to the tray. “You didn’t eat much.”

She hadn’t eaten anything, from what he could see.

Tags: Anna Campbell Dashing Widows Romance
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