Chapter Twelve

A master at feigning sleep, Bronwyn shimmied closer to the edge of the bed. Her worries over whether her husband would wish to repeat the marital act were all for naught. Landon had kept her awake practically all night. His mere touch wreaked havoc with her pulse and denied her brain the oxygen it needed to think. On the rare occasion she found herself awake while Landon slept, her husband had an odd habit of mumbling in his sleep. At first, she believed Landon's sleep talk was merely words jumbled up, but then she realized they were anastrophes. To her utter surprise, most were about love—love for her. Bronwyn's favorite of the night was "Oxymoron, you told me I was. Love before never like this." She had forgotten the details of their first argument, but she clearly recalled referring to him as an oxymoron. At the time, she had believed him to be a kind dictator, not the charming rogue she had married.

Landon's arm wrapped about her waist and pulled her closer. "Good morn, wife."

Apparently, her husband was a light sleeper. She'd have to remember that, for she needed time to muddle through Landon's confessions of having loved her long before he proposed.

Warm lips pressed against her neck. Landon mumbled, "I'll confess, I failed to consider what was to occur after we were wed."

"Even without a strategy, I believe you performed magnificently."

He placed kisses upon her bare shoulder. "I wasn't referring to right after the ceremony. I meant I've made no arrangements for today."

Bronwyn turned to face her husband. "Absolutely no plans?"

Sheepishly Landon said, "Well, there are a few matters I must attend to, but none that I shouldn't be able to deal with swiftly. Do you wish to travel abroad? I can make the necessary arrangements posthaste."

Traveling to the Continent was the last thing she wished for. She'd never had the opportunity to learn a second language. Mastering English without a cockney accent had taken her months; it would take just as many for her to learn French. She would never presume that everyone she would interact with would understand or speak English.

Bronwyn sighed. "I'm ill-prepared to venture to a foreign country, although I'm fully prepared to learn whatever languages are necessary…if you don't mind hiring me a tutor."

"Why would I mind?" Landon kissed her nose. "But if you wish to go, I'd be more than happy to act as your translator."

She didn't want to be a burden to him. No. Truthfully, she didn't want to rely on him. Resting her forehead on Landon's chest, Bronwyn said, "Plus, there are other things I still need to educate myself on."

"Such as?" Landon tugged at the ends of her hair that rested in the middle of her back.

She raised her head. "How to become a proper lady. How to run a household. How to…"

Landon's lips crushed hers. She pulled back and said, "You didn't let me finish. I was about to say how to satisfy my husband's needs."

"My needs?" Landon's dimple appeared as he chuckled. "The staff and the innkeeper will want to know about our plans." Landon cupped her face. "And I'm prepared to prove to you again if necessary that you are quite capable of meeting my every desire."

Bronwyn frowned. "I wasn't referring to those needs."

Landon smoothed her brow with his thumb and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Grinning, Bronwyn tried to redirect her husband's wayward thoughts. "What would be your preference?"

"I'm quite happy to defer to your wishes on the matter."

She'd expected him to be in a rush to return to London. Bronwyn knew many sought out his wisdom on various matters. For their entire journey to Scotland, he had given her his complete focus. Guilt at having occupied all his time spurred her answer. "I wish to return to London."

His eyes brightened as he asked, "Are you certain?"

She had already taken up too much of his time. "Yes, quite."

"Then it's decided." With a hand on her bottom, he pressed her closer. His arousal slid between her legs. "But first, it might be prudent on my part to prove again how certain I am that you are more than capable of meeting my every need. Shall we delay our departure until later in the day?"

Bronwyn moaned as he rotated his hips in a circular motion. She closed her eyes and said, "As you wish."

***

Landon peered up from the stack of correspondence he'd diligently worked on since they entered the traveling coach. His teasing gaze lowered to her chest and then wandered back up to meet her eyes. Her cheeks flushed, but she remained silent. She glanced down at his impressive penmanship—neat and precise as if he had written his responses at his old desk at the offices of Neale however, if you should have any issues, advise Duncan to send for me.

Best wishes

Mary

Not a love note.

In fact, Lady Mary's tone was rather forward, given she was addressing the most senior-ranking PORF.

Landon chucked as he refolded the parchment. "Lady Mary may take credit, but I'd wager it was Lady Frances's doing."

"Who is Lady Frances?"

"A close companion and advisor to Lady Mary."

"Does she reside with them? Will I meet her?"

"Hmm... Yes, she does reside with them, but no one—not even Waterford—has technically had the pleasure of meeting the extremely wise and meddling Lady Frances."

Bronwyn's knowledge of Lady Mary was limited to a few facts. Daughter of a duke. Her brother closest in age and Waterford's best friend had died upon the battlefield. She recently brought Waterford up to snuff and married him. And, ah, yes…the rumors. "It's true? Lady Mary can see and talk to the dead?"

Landon needn't answer. The stiffening of the staff's posture told Bronwyn they did not care for her shocking statement regarding their mistress.

Landon took her elbow and guided her to the front door. "Yes, Mary has the gift."

"Oh, I've never met anyone with such a talent. I'm ever so glad Lady Mary invited us to stay. I do wish to meet her."

From behind, Duncan mumbled, "Be careful what ye wish for."