He had not been imagining it. The same thing he had seen in her eyes in the library... He could see it again now. She liked to please him. She liked being told what was expected of her.
And that should not intrigue him.
He knew better than to visit his inclinations on a lady. These were things he had attempted in his first marriage, and he had since learned the marriage bed was not the place for such activities. There were brothels that catered to men of his tastes specifically. And everyone involved knew exactly what to expect. And even, enjoyed it. That was the thing about his particular desires. They might be hard, uncompromising.
He might enjoy being in charge, and doling out punishment where it was due. But a woman’s submission was only enjoyable if it was given willingly.
And if she received pleasure from the act.
Beatrice would never understand.
He would be very surprised if she understood much of anything about the dynamic between men and women. Ladies were so sheltered. He had experience of such a thing with his first wife. But Beatrice... It was likely she was even more so. Off the country as she was, and with a family that had no intention of ever marrying her off.
‘You told me that you wanted the truth. And so I am committed to offering it to you.’
‘Good.’
She blushed. And he would be lying to himself if he did not admit that it was an incredibly pretty blush.
‘Where will we go?’ she asked.
‘To Maynard Park. My family home.’
‘Oh.’
‘We will go to London for the Season. I must see to my duties at the House of Lords.’
For him, the Season typically marked a month-long period of work and excess. As he was not participating in the marriage market, he did not play games unless he was required to attend balls out of deference to a political pursuit. He took his duties relatively seriously. After all, a man had to possess some purpose in his life, or what was the point of it? It was far too easy to be a man in his position and do nothing, care for nothing. To simply exist, as he had much power and wealth, and it was easy for him to do so.
But that was not the way that he saw the world. He would not say that he was an extraordinarily good man, but he did not see the purpose in occupying his space if he did not try to do something to improve the state of others.
‘Oh,’ she said, immediately looking pleased. ‘I do so wish to spend the Season in London. I have not been... But one time. And never for an entire Season.’
‘I have a home there that I feel you will find comfortable.’
‘That’s wonderful.’ She smiled slightly. ‘I am... Is it wrong that I’m pleased?’
‘It is a life sentence, Beatrice. You can either look at it as if you’re going to the gallows or... Enjoy your time in the dungeon, I suppose.’
Badly chosen words on his part.
‘I must do my best to enjoy it.’
But she looked a bit pale and uncertain.
He felt rather than heard the approach of his friend, and he turned and saw Kendal standing there. He looked disapproving.
‘Shall we begin the proceedings?’
‘Are you ready?’ Briggs asked, somewhat mocking. As if his marriage was one on the time schedule of a man other than him.
His marriage that was not to be a marriage.
He looked at the lovely lines of the woman who would be his wife.
Not his wife in truth.
And then he looked back at Kendal. ‘Yes. Let us hasten the imprisonment.’