Free Tis the Season to Be Sinful by Adrienne Basso Page B

know. It’s just that I’ve never seen you out with a lady of quality.” George’s brow shot up suggestively. The unasked question made Richard angry.
    “Juliet is very much a lady,” he said coolly.
    “Naturally. No insult intended.” George bowed his head apologetically. “I guess I’ve had one too many shocks today. First Lawrence in the conservatory and now a bride for you. So, what can you tell me about this lucky lady?”
    Richard smiled ironically, considering the question. What could he say about Juliet, a woman he had known less than twenty-four hours before proposing? “She’s a widow actually. Her brother-in-law is the Earl of Hastings, whom I met very briefly. He’s a real ass.”
    “Her brother-in-law is old needle-nose?”
    “Who?”
    George grinned. “That’s what we called him at school. Because his nose is so absurdly pointed it looks like the end of a needle. I remember he had a younger brother. Harold? No, that’s not right. Henry. Pleasant fellow. Excellent horseman and far more likable than old needle-nose. I seem to remember reading he died a few years ago.”
    “Four years, actually,” Richard supplied.
    “Where did you meet her?”
    “In the country. I traveled there intending to purchase a property only to discover it could not be sold unless the earl approved.”
    “Which he wouldn’t do,” George concluded. “So instead of buying the estate, you decided to marry for it?”
    “In a way,” Richard said ruefully, not liking how that sounded. “It’s complicated.”
    “These things usually are,” George replied sagely. “Though I wonder if you got the better end of the bargain. Women can be downright draining on a man’s wallet.”
    “Juliet is not an opera dancer who needs to be showered with an exorbitant allowance and expensive baubles,” Richard retorted. “Besides, I can well afford to keep a wife in luxury.”
    George looked at him speculatively. “Ah, so now we get to the heart of the matter. Well done, Richard.”
    “What the devil are you babbling on about, George?”
    “The fair Juliet. Clearly you have a great affection for her, if you are willing to spend so lavishly for her comfort. Tell me, was it love at first sight?”
    “What?”
    “No need to be embarrassed, my friend,” George said cheerfully, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s about time you had some real happiness in your life. A bit of lighthearted fun with a woman you love is exactly what you need. Though I would strongly advise against having carnal relations in your conservatory, unless you lock the door first.”
    “George, you are an imbecile.”
    “Spoken defensively by a man in love.”
    Richard gave him a disbelieving glare. “Damn it, George, I don’t know what has gotten into you this evening. How could I possibly fall in love with a woman I barely know?”
    “It happens all the time. Well, sometimes. I think.”
    “Rest assured, that is not the case.”
    “Ah.” George was silent for a long moment. “Of course, it will become a very sticky problem if suddenly falling in love is the reason Juliet accepted your proposal. My dear friend, you do not want to be tied to a lovesick woman. Trust me, it can be embarrassingly painful.”
    Richard raised his eyebrows. A most fascinating story was contained in that last sentence, and though he was curious, he was more interested in understanding George’s warning about his upcoming marriage.
    “Is there a point to your ramblings or do you merely enjoy hearing the sound of your own voice?” Richard asked.
    George sighed patiently. “My point is that men are logical by nature—well, most of them—and women are illogical. Their heads are far too often filled with ridiculous notions of love and romance. If Juliet agreed so readily to the match, it is possible she might have done so due to some misguided notions of living happily ever after in loving marriage.”
    Richard shook his head vehemently. “She is not a young, innocent