Just Wicked Enough Page 12

  She angled her chin, surprised by the sting caused by his refusal to share them now. “I’m not known for being sensible. Case in point, I married you.”

  With that, she spun on her heel and marched from the room. She couldn’t say why the sound of his low chuckle following in her wake pleased her.

  She only knew that it did. That in some way, it signaled a small victory.

  Chapter 11

  Michael was not particularly skilled at reading women’s moods, but he had no doubt that his wife was still royally miffed at him. Not that he blamed her. It was not his habit to be deliberately crude with the fairer sex, and yet his frustrations had gotten the better of him last night. He’d been wet, cold, and the fact that she’d been in his private sanctuary, looking at his unschooled efforts, had not set well with him.

  And so he’d lashed out, unforgivably so. Even then, she’d stood her ground, tossing his words back at him as though she were accustomed to spouting crudities when he doubted she had a clear understanding of exactly what he’d had in mind when he spoke of riding her.

  Unfortunately that morning, she’d not joined him for breakfast. Rather she’d had a tray delivered to her bedchamber. He’d actually missed her company, suffered through a moment of loneliness before reminding himself that being alone was a natural state for him and something with which he was well familiar. She’d sent her maid down to inform him she would be looking over the accounts this morning. He’d sent a footman up to announce the arrival of Michael’s steward, Mr. Swithin.

  He wondered how long they’d play this game of cat and mouse, each effectively ignoring the other.

  He’d been standing beside the desk talking with Swithin when his wife had waltzed into the room wearing a pale pink dress with cherry-colored silk stripes running its length. Velvety loops of ribbon decorated the sleeves and the sides of the under-skirt, visible where the upper skirt was gathered up. Strangely, in spite of the various decorations, the entire attire had a very no-nonsense quality to it. Perhaps it was because below her chin, the only skin visible was that of her hands.

  Yet, still he found her enticing. She’d given Michael a very succinct greeting before settling behind the desk and getting down to business with Swithin.

  As much as Michael loathed his wife prying into the details of his estate, he couldn’t deny he was fascinated watching her. His steward sat in a large leather chair across from her, answering her insightful questions about the management of the house, the grounds, the stables, monies spent and the dwindling income from farming.

  Kate looked at Michael and said, “Surely, you saw the need to replace what you were no longer gaining.”

  “We did. Unfortunately, we made some unwise investments.”

  “The problem with investing is that one must always be able to withstand the loss if the risk doesn’t pay off.”

  “So I learned.”

  She turned her attention back to Swithin, while Michael focused on her. Last night, he’d almost told her about his sketches, about the buildings he did want to bring to reality. But seeing her in her nightclothes had reminded him of seeing her out of them, and he’d only wanted to be rid of her presence, before he decided his need for her outweighed her need for affection.

  For most of his life, his parents had been absent. He’d been cared for by a strict nanny and even stricter governess. Going away to school had been a godsend.

  He was striving to be patient with Kate, to give her the time she wanted to grow accustomed to him as her husband, because he identified with her desire to be wanted for more than her money. Ironically, he understood too well what it was to be wanted for something other than oneself. He’d never been a son. He’d always been the heir.

  He had no memory of being hugged until he’d bedded his first woman. He’d been at Ravensley’s estate when the daughter of the old man’s valet had taken it upon herself to introduce them all to the ways of the flesh. She’d been a lovely, caring lass who hadn’t ridiculed him or told the others that he’d wept in her arms.

  He’d had many women since, but it was always business, and as a result, the encounters were usually impersonal. He’d stopped longing for the tender touches. Even his mistress had been as cold as the gems he’d given her. For whatever reason, he seemed to lack the ability to warm a woman’s heart toward him.

  Now his wife insisted he make her care for him. Baubles and trinkets weren’t the answer. Even doing things that she wanted didn’t seem to please her. She wanted him to know—without her saying—exactly what she wanted. She asked the impossible.

  “My lord?”

  He was snatched from his reverie to find his wife looking at him expectantly, as though she wanted something from him. No doubt, whatever it was, it wasn’t what he wanted to give.

  “You have eight thousand acres of land here.”

  He arched a brow. “I am more than familiar with what I have and what I have not.”

  “Your income—”

  “I am acutely aware of my income. It is sadly lacking in what is needed to sustain the estates or my London residence—as Mr. Swithin’s books will sadly prove.”

  She looked at him, looked at Mr. Swithin. “I want to study these more closely at my leisure.”

  “Of course, my lady,” Swithin said.

  “In the meantime, I will, naturally, approve the payment of these debts.”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  She looked back at Michael. “Mr. Swithin has done an exceptional job of overseeing your estate.”

  “Of course he has. I don’t hire the incompetent.”

  “Did you wish to recommend an additional payment amount for him?”

  She was tossing him a crumb, to give the appearance he still had some say in matters. He didn’t know whether to be furious or grateful. In the end, he decided to toss the crumb back. “You’re the expert in financial matters. I leave the amount to your discretion.”

  She seemed surprised, but pleased, and turned her attention back to Swithin. Michael wondered if Albert had felt this useless married to a queen who held power over the whole of England and a good part of the world. Michael had decided last night that he needed to shift tactics. And here he was still feeling as though he were groveling.

  Swithin took his leave, more than happy with the turn in his lordship’s fortunes. Michael watched as Kate continued to scour through the ledgers.

  “What are you searching for?” he asked.

  “It’s just inconceivable to me that the state of your affairs could have gotten so out of hand.”

  He walked over to the desk, stood behind her, reached around, and closed the ledger. “You won’t find the answer there.”

  “Well, if it’s not in the ledger, I’ll never find the answer, since you won’t tell me.”

  She had her hair pinned up, with stray wisps curling along the back of her neck. He trailed his bare finger along the thin line of bare skin just above her collar, felt her shiver with his touch. She wasn’t as immune to his attentions as she pretended.

  He leaned nearer. She still smelled of raspberries. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “Do you have any idea how much work needs to be done here?”

  “You can make wiser decisions if you see all of the estate. I want to show it to you. You can ride the mare, I’ll ride the gelding. No enclosures, no chance of mud.”

  “In England, there is always a chance of mud.”

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious about all you’ve acquired through marriage or are you simply afraid?”

  She jerked her head around, which brought her mouth incredibly close to his. “What would I fear?”

  “That if you are in my close company long enough you might come to want me as much as I want you.”

  “For me, without affection, there can be no want.”

  Ah, yes, she was still royally miffed. Or maybe he’d simply hurt her feelings by being so callous about something which she obviously highly prized. He was goin
g to take her virginity, and that realization no doubt terrified her. Perhaps if he thought of her as a horse that needed to be gentled…

  He crouched beside her. It was as close to begging as he would come. “I owe you an apology for my words in here last night. My choices were to offend you or attempt to seduce you. Quite honestly, I wasn’t in a frame of mind to meekly accept another rejection.”

  “Meaning what? You would have forced yourself on me?”

  He bowed his head. He couldn’t win with her. “Most women would be pleased beyond measure that their husbands wanted them as I want you.”

  “It is only the physical—”

  He brought his head up. “What is wrong with that?”

  “I need more.”

  “And I’m trying to give it to you.” He reined in his temper. “Kate, from the moment you married me, you’ve seen nothing but the tragedy of my life. The mounting debt, the residences in disrepair. Let me show you one corner of my world that I believe makes everything else worth it.”

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You’re actually going to willingly share something with me?”

  “I am.”

  “And it requires an outing?”

  “It does.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  “I promise no crude comments,” he offered.

  She peered at him. “We always seem to be at odds.”

  “Not always. Yesterday, for example, we had several very pleasant moments.”

  Sighing, she nodded. “I’ll accompany you on an outing.”

  “Do try to sound a bit more enthusiastic, unless it’s your intent to ruin my good humor.”

  “This is you in a good humor? It very much resembles you in a bad humor.”

  “Your eyes are changing shade. They were a sort of green, but now they’re going to blue.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. My eyes don’t change color, except with my clothing. They sometimes reflect the color of the cloth.”

  “Perhaps.” But he thought he might be managing to improve her disposition. He wished he’d developed a skill for effectively teasing a lady. But if need be, to make her laugh, he supposed he could always seek out mud.

  “I assume you have a riding habit,” he said.

  She laughed lightly, her breath skimming over his cheek. “More than one.”

  “Then I shall see that the horses are readied while you see to yourself.” His body tightened as the tip of her tongue touched her upper lip. He thought her breathing might be growing as labored as his. He watched her throat work as she swallowed.

  “I need room so I can stand,” she said, her low voice carrying a sensual rasp.

  His lower body reacted with a fierceness that made it nearly impossible to stand back up, but he somehow managed to do so, moving behind the chair and pulling it out so his reaction to her wasn’t visible.

  She rose gracefully from the chair and took two steps before turning back to him. “Thank you for the apology, and more, for trusting my discretion regarding the additional amount.”

  “No need to thank me for what in a short time you’ve effectively earned. Your father alerted me to your financial acumen. I’m quite impressed to see it at work.”

  She blushed. “I should go change before I thank you again.”

  He watched her leave the room with a definite spring in her step he’d not seen before. It seemed he’d somehow managed to please her. Imagine that.

  “What sort of investments did you make?” Kate asked.

  They’d ridden sedately over the land for less than half an hour before he’d led her over a rise and into what she could only describe as a shallow valley where wildflowers bloomed in abundance in the clearing before it gave way to the woods. At a small pond, she’d spotted a deer drinking before it dashed off between the towering trees. Birds twittered in the boughs and a gentle breeze wafted through the leaves. Here was a touch of heaven.

  Her husband had surprised her by spreading a blanket on the ground and carefully unrolling another blanket to reveal offerings for a picnic—cheese, bread, wine, and raspberries. She wondered if the fruit had been selected on purpose. Surely not. It was no doubt coincidence that their choices included her favorite berry. She watched him now as he uncorked the red wine.

  “I believe the first investment was named Lucky Lad. Failed to live up to his nomenclature.” He poured the wine into two crystal goblets. She was amazed they hadn’t cracked on the journey.

  “What was wrong with him?” she asked.

  “Couldn’t race worth a fig.”

  “You bought a racing horse?”

  “No, I bet on one.” He handed her a goblet.

  “Your investment was to bet on a race?” she asked incredulously.

  He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “It seemed an expeditious and easy way to change my fortune. Which it did. Just not in the direction I’d hoped.” He clinked his glass against hers. “Here’s to wiser investments in the future.”

  She peered over the rim of her glass. “I think any investment would be wiser than that.” She drank a sip, trying not to notice the way his fawn-colored breeches pulled across his thighs. He was sitting with one knee raised, his wrist resting on it lightly, his hand slowly swirling his glass of wine.

  “You said the horse was your first investment. What was the second?”

  “Shooting Star, who managed to fade to the back of the race the same way a star fades at dawn.”

  “How many times did it take you to learn your lesson?”

  “Not sure I’ve learned yet. Perhaps next year we’ll go to Ascot.”

  “I’m not betting on a horse.”

  “But we can afford to lose now. Wasn’t that your requirement?”

  She shook her head, trying to appear uninterested, but she was intrigued by the thought of going to the races with him. “If we go, I shall select the horse.”

  “Have you a knack for it?”

  “We won’t know until I try.”

  “You’ve never bet on a horse?”

  “I’ve never gambled at all.”

  “It’s a way to make an abundance of money quickly.”

  “It’s also a way to lose it. I don’t trust schemes that promise quick riches. There is always some hidden trap.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” he mumbled before taking a sip of his wine.

  Gazing at him was certainly no hardship. The breeze had begun to toy with his hair just as it toyed with the trees. She had an urge to run her fingers through his dark strands, but touching him would no doubt give him leave to touch her, and after last night, she suspected he’d like to do more than play with her hair. Best to keep the conversation off personal matters.

  “Surely with as much land as you have, you could sell some of it,” she said.

  He swung his head around to study her. “It’s all entailed. I’m forbidden to sell it. I can lease it for farming. But there is no money in agriculture these days. Not for us. We can import it from you Americans cheaper than we can grow it. Since the title and its responsibilities fell to me, I’ve lost almost all my tenants. And who can blame them for going to the cities where more opportunity and a better life awaits them?”

  “But surely there is something you can do with this land that would bring in more income. You could build a factory—”

  He grimaced. “Even if I could, which I cannot because of restrictions placed on the deed, I wouldn’t entertain such a notion. It’s part of the reason that I invited you to take a ride with me. I want you to see what you gain through marriage to me. This land’s purpose is the same as a woman’s—to be beautiful and appreciated. Look around you, Kate. There is poetry in the land.”

  He’d never given her beautiful words or recited poetry to her, but surely a man who saw such beauty in the land held poetry in his soul.

  “Is this where you rode to last night?”

  “Eventually, once I got the fire out of my blood.” Reaching out, he trailed his
bare finger along her bare hand. They’d taken off their gloves to eat and yet the cheese and bread remained untouched. “Do you often give yourself a bath?”

  She could see from the intensity of his gaze that he was remembering exactly what he’d seen last night. She’d deliberately chosen clothes to wear today that left very little skin exposed. She felt her cheeks warm and hoped her blush wasn’t visible.

  “Chloe worked so hard to get everything unpacked that I didn’t wish to bother her with a bath. I had footmen bring up hot water, but I’m fully capable of washing myself.” She cleared her throat. “I think the first thing we should do is modernize your plumbing.”

  He grinned at her. “Nothing wrong with my plumbing, I assure you.”

  She grew even warmer. “The plumbing in your house, you dolt.”

  He chuckled low and she almost felt the vibrations travel through his hand into hers. She thought about moving hers from beneath his finger but it felt so lovely—the slow, sensual circles that he was drawing on her skin.

  “You have so much fire within you that it’s little wonder your hair is so incredibly red,” he said.

  “I’ve always hated the shade of my hair.”

  “I rather like it. It’s not common.”

  Now it was her turn to laugh. “No, it’s not.” She wanted to turn the discussion away from her and back to him. “You’d not struck me as a man who’d appreciate the beauty of the countryside.”

  “I appreciate beauty in all its forms.” His gaze traveled slowly over her face, lingered on her lips. “Most especially when it’s associated with a woman.”

  She felt a wet drop splash against her nose, jerked her head back, and was hit with a droplet of rain in her eye. “Oh, no, it’s going to rain.” She’d not even noticed the clouds moving in.

  “Come on.”

  After helping her to her feet, he grabbed her hand, but instead of leading her toward the horses, he urged her toward a tree.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “It’s probably only a quick afternoon shower. The boughs of the tree are thick enough to lessen the impact of the downpour.”