CHAPTER 6
She wasn’t quite sure what was more entertaining: the look on Vicar Peters’s face after that quite impressive kiss, or the look on her husband’s when she started to laugh.
To say that Lord Barrington was surprised was an understatement. Once she had garnered some control over her mirth, she’d cast a glance in his direction only to find a slightly fading expression of panic that melted into a more relaxed grin. He must think her daft. Oh well, it was probably true, after all. Here she was, marrying someone she barely knew—for money. It was as simple as that. She and her sisters had often scorned the marriages of the London Ton as mercenary, and here she was doing the very same thing. It was sobering and humbling, but it was too late now. She might as well make the best of it.
“I have plans to leave for London in the morning,” her new husband mentioned as they made their way to his estate.
“Am I to come with you?” she asked, not assuming anything.
His gaze, which had been fixed on the window, shot to her with a piercing clarity. “Of course. You will be quite occupied once we get to London as well. We are to have a party to present you within a week, so please quickly acquaint yourself with Mrs. Highbury; she is the most sought-after modiste in London. I sent word to her as soon as your agreement was given to the marriage. She is expecting you, and will have several gowns you’ll need fitted quickly. As the Countess of Barrington, I assume you understand the need for appearances.”
Diana nodded politely, wondering if the man ever actually sat still. Already she had made several deductions about her new husband. It was clear that he was always thinking ahead, planning, making assertions and, she assumed, contingency plans if those original plans didn’t work out as expected.
“I suppose the next logical question is: What do you want me to represent as your wife?”
His earlier words made her wonder just what part she was to play. A slight panic had tickled her fingers, causing them to go slightly numb as she considered that he might want her to be a fixture in society functions that would demand her conversation and intrigue skills to be much sharper than they were at present.
“I expect you to be at the pertinent social functions, and to meet the peers who will approve of my settling down. Nothing too trying, I’m sure.”
“If it’s so simple, why such articulate planning?” she asked, suspicious.
He tipped his head as if trying to comprehend such an odd question. “Planning makes all things go smoother. It’s so much better when you know what to expect.”
“I see.” And she did. It fit perfectly into the picture she was creating in her mind of how her husband worked. It also gave her the strongest impulse to re-arrange his careful plans just to see his reaction. It was a childish notion, but it was a real one, nonetheless. She had expected him to be a devil-may-care type of person. Even the kind that tossed caution to the wind, and by sheer dumb luck fall into fortune. But that clearly wasn’t the case, and it was oddly comforting as much as it was tempting to disrupt.
“As a general rule, I do not ask women what they are thinking. I’ve learned the foolishness of such an action, but since we are to be in close proximity for the foreseeable future, it would be helpful for me to learn the way your mind works.” He gave his head a slight shake. “And honestly, your expression is quite unreadable and I find that frustrating.”
“So . . . all that to say . . .” she encouraged, teasing, drawing him out.
“You’re taking all this better than I thought. So I’m curious to if you’re actually as calm as you appear or if I shoul—”
“Wait for the daft part of me to surface?”
“I was going to say it in a more gentlemanly way.”
“No need. Quite honestly, since we are, indeed, being honest, your reputation precedes you, and ‘gentlemanly’ is not quite one of the adjectives I’ve heard used to describe your person. However, you may rest assured that I’m an irritatingly calm person, my lord. Feel free to ask any of my sisters. I’m utterly rational at most times . . . most times.” She arched a brow to punctuate her words.
“I see.” He rubbed his chin. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t repeat the . . . adjectives . . . you’ve heard about me.”
“I find it hard to believe that you’re sensitive about a reputation that it seems you’ve worked quite hard to create.”
“I’m not ashamed as much as I’m trying to . . . rectify it.”
“Turning over a new leaf?” Diana asked, honestly curious as to why he would make such a drastic change.
“Something like that,” he murmured as the carriage stopped just before his estate. In short work, they were entering the house and ushered to the dining hall where their wedding breakfast awaited. Her family would arrive soon, which would be a comforting balm. She wasn’t overly nervous, oddly enough, but it was a welcome distraction. The carriage ride had illuminated much. Astonished, she found her new husband to be quite interesting, and even easy to talk with. Of course, it could be said that it was no shock he could talk with women easily, since he’d spoken with so many. However, it allayed some of her trepidation. If they could have a rational conversation, that was a good omen for their non-conventional marriage. And for him to be so detailed, it was interesting; truly all of him was interesting. At least he wasn’t dull.
As he offered her the seat beside him at the head of the table, she sat carefully and waited till he was seated as well, then offered a smile.
He quickly returned it, then reached over and patted her hand.
As the other guests started to file in, Diana was thankful to realize that while she wouldn’t ever love her husband, at least she might end up finding him a friend.
It was more than she had expected.
And she wouldn’t ask for more.