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She sighed. “Of course it does. You just don’t like to see yourself in this light.”

“I don’t wish to speak of it. No more.”

And she snapped her fingers again. She said, “It is odd. Mrs. Miggs told me I wouldn’t feel at all well this morning, what with all the champagne, but she was wrong. Will you please leave, my lord? I wish to bathe and dress. Oh my, I should have respectfully inquired about your plans, which must, perforce, be mine as well since I am the adjunct here. Do you intend that we leave this morning?”

“Yes, as soon as you are able.”

“Ah, do you also have plans that aren’t any of my business?”

“We are on our wedding trip. Now, you will cease your ridiculous anger. A wife should not be angry with her husband.”

“That is on the list?”

“Among other things.”

“Go away, my lord. Go take a strap to one of the horses.”

“How much champagne did you drink?”

“Enough to want to play a fiddle and perhaps dance a bit with Mrs. Miggs. Enough to forget that I wanted to kill you. In any case, even drunk, I realized I would be hanged if I did you in, and that would be distressing to my father. Hmmm. Since I can’t ask my father about this, perhaps the next time I see Jeremy, I can inquire about this door business and a husband blasting through it on his wedding night.”

He went pale, then red to his hairline with rage. “You will not speak of him further, do you understand me? Oh yes, I would be more distressed than your father if you killed me.”

“No, you would be dead and not feel a thing.”

She simply didn’t know that he’d overheard her and her father, so how could she possibly know why he was so damned angry? Maybe that was a good thing. He said, “You honestly feel fine now?”

“I feel ready to take on the world. I feel more than ready to take you on, my lord.”

“I am your husband. My name is Thomas. A wife doesn’t take on a husband, if you mean by that to start an argument with him.”

She realized they’d done nothing but argue since he’d shown himself in the doorway. She said slowly, “Actually, I was thinking about hitting you in the nose.”

He said nothing to that, very wise of him to keep quiet, she thought. He believed in some self-preservation.

She looked at him a moment, wrapped his dressing gown more closely about her, then said slowly, “Actually, I feel very sore between my legs. Does a man regard that as an accomplishment, something he’s expected to do on his wedding night?”

“Since you are not riding, you will be fine by evening. It is nothing. There is no accomplishment here. Last night simply happened. Don’t speak of it again.”

“You are an expert then. You have done this particular business many times, at least enough times to know that my pain was and is a mere bagatelle. I don’t suppose you experienced any distress from your splendid performance last night?”

He shook his head, but he was lying, of course. When he had broken her maidenhead, he’d wanted to scream at her and howl from the intense pleasure that filled him.

“I see. So you didn’t realize what you were doing? Neither the first time nor the second time? You didn’t hurt me either time on purpose?”

“Be quiet, Meggie. It’s over.”

She looked up at the ceiling. “God is letting me down here.”

“Sometimes God forgives actions when they are justified.”

“Whatever that means. Would you care to clarify that a bit?”

“I don’t wish to discuss it further.”

“Yes, yes, don’t mention anything a husband might find thorny. I must relieve myself. Go away.”

He looked as if he would say more, but he didn’t, just turned and closed the door quietly behind him.


Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical