Chapter Six

S imon bit back the urge to sigh. At least his wife had been located and she wasn't harmed. Because of that, relief twisted through his gut, and it was interesting she'd sought out the water in Hyde Park. Oddly enough, it's one of his favorite places in London, and he went there frequently when he grew restless and fought the urge to secure a schooner and just… leave.

"Do you wish to return to your parents' house, or would you like to tour my home, or rather your new home?"

Her face slightly blanched. "Oh, I hadn't given thought to my residence." She moistened her bottom lip, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. What would she do if he tried to kiss her? "Could we perhaps remain here for a bit longer?"

"I don't see why not." He chose that moment to offer her a black wool cloak lined with sky blue satin that her mother had given to him. "Since we will linger out in the element for a while, you should make use of this."

In some surprise, she glanced between the garment and his face. "Thank you. That was kind of you to think of me."

"Well, your mother suggested it, but then she also said if you contracted a head cold before the first ninety days and died, they would have to pay Bessie, who I assume is Mrs. Dove-Lyon." Not giving her the chance to reach for it, Simon arranged the cloak about her shoulders.

"That sounds like my mother."

"I'm sorry. At least now I know how they're making you toe the line." As she did up the few frog fasteners, he frowned, for he wanted to ask her who the man she'd been talking to was when he'd come upon her. They'd seemed quite chummy, but he also wanted her to be honest with him. It was far too early in their relationship for accusations as well as secrets.

Even though he was keeping one of his own.

"Thank you." The relief flitting over her face made him second guess the decision to marry. "Uh… Captain?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to share this stump?" She scooted slightly over, and as she rearranged the placement of her legs into a position more proper, he was afforded a glimpse of a stocking-clad ankle and calf. "It is a tad chilly, but it gets the job done."

It was an unexpected boon, especially since she'd run from him the second they were left alone. "I would enjoy that, actually." In silence, he sat beside her and then hunched further into his greatcoat. Several minutes passed in the quiet while they both watched the antics of a few ducks on the water. It was relatively peaceful there at their resting spot, for with the chill and the breeze, it wasn't an ideal midday in which to walk. As lovely as it was sitting beside her and feeling the warmth of her, there were things he needed to know. "Is it being wed to me that you object to or marriage in general?"

It wouldn't do to start their marriage on acrimonious terms.

Her lips twitched but she didn't smile. "I'm glad you asked me that, for I wish to know the same from you."

"That didn't answer my question."

She sighed and kept her focus on the water. "I think it's the knowledge that I've had no say in any of this and that I've been forced to marry a man who is a stranger and that my freedom has been taken away."

"Ah. I would say I hadn't thought to marry, at least not yet." All of those were valid complaints. "To be honest, if I did want to marry, I wanted the opportunity to choose my own bride in my own timeline, but that was taken from me."

"Then it's me you dissent to."

"Not immediately. However, you must admit, your reputation isn't as sterling as it perhaps could be." That bothered him more than it should. Would they be shunned from balls and other events before their marriage could gain legs?

A huff escaped her. "It is not my fault that I don't wish to fit into society's molds or ideals."

"I understand that, and it's admirable you don't wish to be as everyone else. Individuality is rare in our world." He rubbed a gloved hand along the side of his face. "Yet you are more than a bit scandalous."

"So the rumors say."

"Then you can tell me those rumors aren't true?"

A blush stained her cheeks. "Not quite."

If she wasn't going to be forthcoming with her own story, he would have to pull it out of her piece by piece. "How many men have you bedded?" Perhaps it wasn't well done of him, but he needed to know. Merely for his piece of mind.

In the event he'd need to head off a thwarted, angry suitor. Was the man she'd been talking to earlier one of those?

"So vulgar, Captain." The lady snorted as she turned more fully toward him. When her shoulder brushed his, low-grade heat went up his arm. "How many women have you bedded? Tit for tat, wouldn't you say?" One of her blonde eyebrows rose in challenge.

"Touche." While he appreciated that she wouldn't lay down and become a meek and mild spouse, he dropped the line of questioning. For now. "Mrs. Dove Lyon hinted you were found in a compromising position with a groom right before your mother applied for her help. Is that true?" Their union may have been forced, but he wasn't eager to have a fast woman for his wife, or an unfaithful one.

There were standards and expectations, after all.

"Oh." Another blush stained her cheeks, and the pink color gave life to her face. "I will admit it, I did enjoy my liaisons with Thomas, but there wasn't much more there than kisses and a few fumbling explorations on his part." Mischief twinkled in her eyes that had slightly darkened. "He is a groom, for God's sake, and he was promptly sacked after that incident, which I feel rather bad about. I was the one who initiated the kisses."

A handful indeed. But Simon remained silent.

She blew out a breath. "If you really wish to worry about someone, that would be Samuel Toppin. He's the son of Viscount Chesterton, and he was the man I assumed I would marry."

"Ah, the man I saw you talking with as I came over." It wasn't a question.

A hint of trepidation lined her face. "Yes. He, ah, is rather persistent, even though I warned him away."

"Why?"

"I am married now."

Well, at least that was something. "Are you in love with him?"

"I don't believe so." Her shrug only lifted one shoulder. "It doesn't matter because my parents took exception to him, even though I am of an age that I should have a say over my own life." She paused, frowned at the water. "Samuel gambles too much, drinks too much, chases skirts, has pockets near to let, and is a wastrel, but I think he could be lovely if he tried to clean up his lifestyle."

"And much of why you wanted him was due to your parents' opposition, I'll wager." When she didn't answer, he took that as agreement. "Why did you enjoy letting him hang about? He sounds like a disaster."

"Well, there is more to life than those things." She dropped her voice. "He knows how to touch a woman to send her flying, hard." One of her eyebrows rose, and he knew a quick urge to kiss the sass out of her… or enhance it. "Does the intimidate you, Captain?"

Had she said that merely to gain a rise from him? If so, that was beyond annoying, and he wouldn't stand for the comparison game. "No, it does not, for I won you. And he was lower than you in rank. I have nothing to fear from him." To say nothing of his own skill in all matters carnal.

"Ha!" For whatever reason, his new bride was quite animated from that. "You were forced into wedding me, the same as I was you. There was no winning." A bit of haughtiness rang in her voice, and a trace of superiority reflected in the moss green pools of her eyes. It sent awareness shivering over his skin. "As for rank, you aren't even titled or of the beau monde . That makes you a lesser catch than him."

"Then you married down, sorry to say." Hot annoyance burned through his chest. Was it due to her preferring the wastrel or her mention of his lack of societal height? Perhaps it didn't matter. "I'll wager I'm a better man in every way that matters than dear Mr. Toppin, and I own property as well as have funds to keep you." If there was a hard edge to his voice, he couldn't help it. This was their lot, and they needed to square with it. "Like it or not, you are my wife now, and as such I demand your allegiance to me. I won't be cuckolded, outright refuse to raise another man's child as mine."

For that matter, did she even want children, a family? What were her aspirations, if any?

"Then this will not be a marriage in name only?" Some of the spirit had faded from her.

Was that what she wanted? Or had assumed? "I hadn't given it thought, but to my way of thinking, once a couple marries, they should work out the kinks. There is no reason our union shouldn't at least have the hope of normalcy." He blew out a breath. "To my way of thinking, if we've both been forced into this together, why owe it to each other to try to make the best of it."

"Perhaps." For long moments, she frowned at a few ducks on the water. "There is no need to worry about an errant pregnancy or wonder if I'm in love with anyone, for that matter."

"Why?"

There was no answer, and since she wasn't facing him, he couldn't read the emotions in her eyes. Interesting, though. What had happened in her life, and would she share it with him eventually? "Do you have causes or charities that you support in Town?"

"Not exactly." She folded and unfolded various sections of her skirting. "When I'm not chasing fun or causing scandal, I practice playing the flute."

"Oh?" How fascinating she was musically inclined. That was something they had in common, though she would never know it. "That's lovely."

An unladylike snort came from her. "Except I'm woefully inadequate, I think. The music master still comes twice a week, and I fear it doesn't help. I'm just not talented enough." She shrugged. "I wonder if I should continue lessons now that I'm married and moved into your house."

"You certainly can if you would like, but why do you think you are wretched at it?"

"It is something I've never puzzled out." When she turned toward him, amusement sparkled in her eyes, and he quite liked the effect. "I adore music, adore listening to people play instruments, adore hearing people sing, envy people who can read music like another language, but I'm not certain it is something I fully grasp for myself."

"It rather is another language, and once you make that transition, it is so easy to become lost into it."

"Are you musically inclined, then?"

Heat crept up the back of his neck, for he couldn't tell her his secret. "I understand it, and when I was in the navy, I learned how to play a few instruments." But singing was what set him free and allowed him to tolerate all the bad things in his life.

"Ah." She nodded. "Unfortunately, I am a dunce. I'm merely good but nothing a recital would recognize."

"Perhaps you haven't found the right medium yet or the right teacher." Would he be the one to do that? It remained to be seen.

"I would rather be racing horses, honestly." Then she brightened. "However, I do adore going to the opera house, watching plays, attending concerts."

"Oh? I have a few friends with boxes we might be able to make use of."

"That would be lovely." Then she smiled, and once more, his regard dropped to her mouth. He could think of a few things those full lips could do… "There is a particular singer in some of those productions who has the loveliest tenor. Every time I hear that man sing, I simply wish to either melt into my chair or soar into the heavens for the sheer joy of the sound he makes." She gave into a shiver. "How lucky his wife must be to listen to such a voice every day."

"Uh…" Shock plowed through his chest. Was it him she spoke of? "I'll admit I don't get 'round to the opera as much as I would like, but I wonder if I would even recognize actors or singers." When the breeze blew beneath the collar of his greatcoat, she gave into a shiver.

"Well, this man has a distinctive voice. I would know it anywhere. It's a glimpse into heaven." A delighted sigh escaped her. "He is Mr. Alexander Dellingham. I'm sure you've seen his name on playbills or posters. In fact, he has a concert in a week that I'd hoped to attend with my mother."

Dear God.

Simon cleared his throat. "You still should. If you enjoy his music so much, by all means go. Marriage will not prevent you from enjoying your life or the things you love."

"Oh." Surprise lined her face. "You wouldn't be angry if I did something without you?"

"Of course not. You are not in prison, Lady Harriett, and neither am I an ogre." Is that what she thought of him or men in general, especially when speaking of marriage? "Your freedoms are intact." He paused to ponder his next words. "In fact, if you would like, I could book you a new music tutor, so you might more fully enjoy the experiences at plays and recitals." It wouldn't do at all for her to realize he knew anything about music lest she suspect who he was. If their marriage was to grow and thrive, it certainly didn't need fame to turn her head and place feelings on the wrong thing. But it pleased him that she enjoyed his efforts.

"How interesting." For the space of a few heartbeats, she studied his face, looking for he knew not what. "Why do you care about my playing the flute?"

He shrugged. "You have continued it all this time. You must find something worthwhile in it, and if music brings you joy, you should invest more time into it."

A flurry of snowflakes filled the air, bandied about on the breeze. Though it was quite chilly, he would sit with her as long as she required to feel comfortable.

"I appreciate your insight." She glanced about, lifted her head to the precipitation, and when a few flakes dotted her face, she smiled. "How did you arrive, by the way?"

"My carriage is waiting at the main arch."

"Ah." Without a further explanation, the lady squirmed off the tree stump and gained her feet. "We should go back. I don't fancy staying out in the snow just now, and I'm sure the wedding breakfast was a dismal affair since you are here."

"Ha." She wasn't wrong. "It is to be expected, I suppose, since the bridal couple isn't in attendance. No doubt the guests would have already left or will soon." He scrambled into a standing position. "Will you accompany me home? We'll lead your house with us and then secure her to the carriage. And as I said earlier, we can go back to your parents' house or ours in Manchester Square."

Ours . It had such an open-ended connotation.

Those kissable lips pushed into a frown. "You don't trust me to return to the house." It wasn't a question.

He offered a slight grin. "There is that, yet it is my duty to protect you now. You can argue with that all you want but the protests won't change anything."

Surprise flickered through her eyes. "You didn't want to marry me, so why do you care at this point?"

With regret, he shoved the urge to kiss her to the back of his mind. "Because we are married. It happened and it is done. We can only go forward, and it will be easier if we're not at each other's throats or disaffected." It was his turn to shrug. "I saw what that did to my best friend after he was forced to wed his wife, and I honestly didn't think he'd survive his first month of marriage."

Her eyes rounded. "What happened?"

"He fell in love with her."

"Ah. That is what Lady Ashbury told me as well." With a shake of her head, Lady Harriett took a few steps toward the path where she'd left the horse. "I am not certain I want that. Love belongs in fairy tales and story books. It's not for real people."

Why the devil would she say something like that? It made her even more mysterious and interesting. "I'm sorry something in your past has soured you from romance."

She paused and turned about to look fully at him. As the breeze clawed at her cloak and skirting and pulled thin tendrils of her hair from the coif, she seemed as if she belonged on the Cornish or Scottish moors instead of in the mostly bare Hyde Park. It had the power to become bewitching if he would let it. "Do you believe in all that stuff and nonsense? Is there one perfect person for each of us in this world?"

Well, he'd always said he didn't want a biddable wife, and his certainly wasn't starting out with easy questions. "I honestly can't say with any conviction. Outside of the sea, I have never been in love." It was perhaps the most candid statement he'd ever made.

"But you have been with women?"

"Of course I have. There are needs every person has, but one doesn't require love to find satisfaction and pleasure between the sheets." Belatedly, he realized he probably shouldn't have said that, for it might give her the wrong impression of their marriage.

"Ah." They stared at each other for the space of a few heartbeats. Then she closed the distance between them, rested a gloved hand on his chest, lifted on her toes, and pressed her lips to his in a fleeting kiss that did nothing except light tiny fires within his blood. "Congratulations, Captain Huxley, on your recent nuptials. I hope you are happy with your lot."

"Thank you. Only time will tell, for us both." It was a bold statement and it showed she certainly wasn't a shy miss, but was she an innocent? Hopefully, that would be discovered more sooner than later.

And damn he wished they were alone, for he would kiss her properly.

She nodded. "Let us both hope the coming weeks will be peaceful if not enlightening."