A Most Improper Rumor by Emma Wildes Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Emma Wildes
Tags: Romance
am unaware of, but I agree to your terms.”
That was really all she asked. To be included in his life outside of their bedroom as often as possible because he was so very busy and never would he involve her in his business affairs, nor did she find that very interesting anyway. Women were not allowed in his club, or in Parliament. That left his other interest, which was horse racing, and though she enjoyed the sleek magnificence of the bloodstock, her involvement went no further.
“I don’t think I would call it terms.”
He also tasted the soup, which was delicious, and evidently didn’t choose to pick up that gauntlet. “So, what are your plans for today, my dear?”
That was part of the problem. She wasn’t one of those society ladies who thrived on gossip and spent inordinate amounts of time on her toilette or at the dressmaker. She preferred to use her time on more cerebral pursuits rather than waste her day on the silly machinations of the
ton
. “I am going to perhaps read that new novel everyone is aglow over. The garden should be pleasant this afternoon.”
“A suitable day for a lady. I took the liberty of purchasing that book for you. I think you’ll find it on your dressing table. A quiet afternoon of reading sounds restful and appropriate for a woman in your condition.”
Ye gods, the irritating man can read my mind even when it comes to my choice in literature.
It was impossible not to look at him in open challenge. “Are you going coddle me my entire confinement, my lord?”
“I might.” His slight smile was unapologetic. “After all, you are
my
wife, and that is
my
child you are carrying. Surely I am allowed to ‘coddle,’ as you put it.”
“Aren’t you the same man who found it difficult to express his feelings over becoming a father?”
“I find it difficult to express my feelings over quite a lot of things, Alicia.”
Now
that
was true.
And how did a person argue with it, after all, since it was compellingly honest.
“I’ve never seen you possessive before.” Her voice was reserved and soft. “I admit I find it an intriguing change.”
“Possessive?” His dark blond hair was lit by the sunlight, his chiseled features impassive as usual. “I am not sure that is the right term. I’m protective. Quite different.”
“Is it?” She wasn’t as sure. But the disclosure was a rarity with a man usually so contained with his emotions. “I want to make you happy, not worry you.”
Ben regarded her with a direct look that left the moment suspended between them. Then to her amazement, he said, “You
do
make me happy.”
* * *
The stands were full on such a beautiful afternoon, the racing silks brilliant in the sunshine, and Ben made his way to his private box alone through the crowd, his mind elsewhere. He had two horses entered and one of them was a green three-year-old that his trainer thought held promise and needed the experience, but the other one really stood a fair chance of winning. Neptune had been strong last season especially, and as full as his schedule might be, Ben couldn’t resist taking a little time for his personal indulgence. Soon it would be too cold and there would be no racing until spring.
He loved horses. He loved the reckless speed of the fierce competition to be first, and had he not grown so tall so young, he would have loved to be an amateur jockey in his youth if his father had allowed it. Since he was an heir, that was improbable. Instead, he found himself relegated to the role of owner, especially when his father died and he inherited one of England’s finest stables.
“Heathton.”
The hand on his arm jolted him out of his distraction, and he found himself looking into the face of Randolph Raine, Lord Andrews, now married to Alicia’s cousin, the one who had been the subject of his abstracted thoughts. Since they both shared a passion for racing, it was not a particular surprise to see him. Andrews had a fine stable as
That was really all she asked. To be included in his life outside of their bedroom as often as possible because he was so very busy and never would he involve her in his business affairs, nor did she find that very interesting anyway. Women were not allowed in his club, or in Parliament. That left his other interest, which was horse racing, and though she enjoyed the sleek magnificence of the bloodstock, her involvement went no further.
“I don’t think I would call it terms.”
He also tasted the soup, which was delicious, and evidently didn’t choose to pick up that gauntlet. “So, what are your plans for today, my dear?”
That was part of the problem. She wasn’t one of those society ladies who thrived on gossip and spent inordinate amounts of time on her toilette or at the dressmaker. She preferred to use her time on more cerebral pursuits rather than waste her day on the silly machinations of the
ton
. “I am going to perhaps read that new novel everyone is aglow over. The garden should be pleasant this afternoon.”
“A suitable day for a lady. I took the liberty of purchasing that book for you. I think you’ll find it on your dressing table. A quiet afternoon of reading sounds restful and appropriate for a woman in your condition.”
Ye gods, the irritating man can read my mind even when it comes to my choice in literature.
It was impossible not to look at him in open challenge. “Are you going coddle me my entire confinement, my lord?”
“I might.” His slight smile was unapologetic. “After all, you are
my
wife, and that is
my
child you are carrying. Surely I am allowed to ‘coddle,’ as you put it.”
“Aren’t you the same man who found it difficult to express his feelings over becoming a father?”
“I find it difficult to express my feelings over quite a lot of things, Alicia.”
Now
that
was true.
And how did a person argue with it, after all, since it was compellingly honest.
“I’ve never seen you possessive before.” Her voice was reserved and soft. “I admit I find it an intriguing change.”
“Possessive?” His dark blond hair was lit by the sunlight, his chiseled features impassive as usual. “I am not sure that is the right term. I’m protective. Quite different.”
“Is it?” She wasn’t as sure. But the disclosure was a rarity with a man usually so contained with his emotions. “I want to make you happy, not worry you.”
Ben regarded her with a direct look that left the moment suspended between them. Then to her amazement, he said, “You
do
make me happy.”
* * *
The stands were full on such a beautiful afternoon, the racing silks brilliant in the sunshine, and Ben made his way to his private box alone through the crowd, his mind elsewhere. He had two horses entered and one of them was a green three-year-old that his trainer thought held promise and needed the experience, but the other one really stood a fair chance of winning. Neptune had been strong last season especially, and as full as his schedule might be, Ben couldn’t resist taking a little time for his personal indulgence. Soon it would be too cold and there would be no racing until spring.
He loved horses. He loved the reckless speed of the fierce competition to be first, and had he not grown so tall so young, he would have loved to be an amateur jockey in his youth if his father had allowed it. Since he was an heir, that was improbable. Instead, he found himself relegated to the role of owner, especially when his father died and he inherited one of England’s finest stables.
“Heathton.”
The hand on his arm jolted him out of his distraction, and he found himself looking into the face of Randolph Raine, Lord Andrews, now married to Alicia’s cousin, the one who had been the subject of his abstracted thoughts. Since they both shared a passion for racing, it was not a particular surprise to see him. Andrews had a fine stable as