Free The Hired Wife by Cari Hislop Page B

answer considering the circumstances.”

    “Humph…have I
bored you at any time over the last few days?”

    “No.”

    “Hmmm…at least
you haven’t poisoned yourself yet. It must be a trial, being the
wife of a boring deaf man.”

    “My husband
isn’t deaf, he’s hard of hearing.” Marshall planted a grateful kiss
on her forehead and reluctantly released his captive. Tugging on
his waistcoat he failed to banish the sensation of her hands on his
chest. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

    “No!” The angry
lie echoed off the windows as Marshall tried not to think of
carrying her up to bed. “Merry…just go back to bed.”

    “But I…”

    “Allow me a
mirage of obedience.”

    “I need to
finish my flowers.”

    “Very well,
finish your flowers and then off to bed. And I forbid you to lay
awake worrying about my feelings. Is there anything I can do for
you?”

    “Might I have
some money; there are a few things I’d like to purchase.”

    Marshall’s
pleasant smile slid into a scowl as imagined his bride purchasing a
ticket and disappearing on the next mail coach. “Absolutely
not!”

    Mary put her
hands on her hips, “You said I’d have a monthly allowance; besides
I just want to buy some ceramic candlesticks and a few…”

    “What do you
want with ceramic candlesticks? I must own fifty silver
candlesticks.”

    “I know, but
this house needs…”

    “It doesn’t
need any more candlesticks.”

    “It needs
personal items. A pair of old ceramic candlesticks and a few
porcelain figurines would help it look less like rented
accommodation.”

    “Humph…what
colour?”

    “Pink.”

    “I won’t have
my house cluttered with sickly sweet shepherds.”

    “It’s what you
hired me to do.”

    Marshall
reached out and caressed her neck. Was she tipping her head back in
hope? Did he dare kiss her again? “I don’t remember including a
passion for sickly ceramic figurines in my advertisement.”

    “Wives are
obliged to spend money on pretty clutter.”

    “I’ve never
heard of that rule.”

    “You’ve never
had a wife.” Mary held her breath as Marshall’s smile inched
closer. Marshall kissed her cheek and then whispered loudly in her
ear, “I’d best go find some ceramic clutter ere my wife thinks me
parsimonious as well as boring.” Marshall could barely see past the
temptation of wide expectant eyes and parted lips. He withdrew his
hands and planted them firmly against his sides. “Now finish your
flowers and go back to bed Mrs Godfrey. That’s an order.”

    Mary bravely
curtseyed on trembling legs as burning sapphires singed her heart.
It was foolishness. She couldn’t be in love with a man she’d known
for less than three days. She’d wait three months and only then
would she examine her heart. Mary turned back to her flowers and
absently trimmed each stem and shoved them into the vase. Either
way she was bound to suffer. If she lost her heart she’d endure
unrequited love, but if she kept her heart she was honour bound to
abandon kindness and kisses for cold solitude. Her pillow called as
her eyes filled with tears. She told herself she was tired as she
closed her bedchamber door, but fatigue had never made her cry. She
didn’t want to explore the cause of the new feelings. She pushed it
away to a safe distance; she’d probably wake up to find her
husband’s kisses all been a pleasant dream. Marshall Godfrey, the
Viscount Raynham hadn’t looked at her with adoring eyes. He hadn’t
kissed her with longing. He wasn’t going fall in love with her.

Chapter 6

    Mary was half
way through a plate of ham when the front door was opened to the
deafening words, “Is Lady Raynham awake? Well where is she? I don’t
know where you’re pointing. Speak into my ear man. She’s eating?
Good, bring the boxes into the dining room.” Mary licked her lips
as her heart beat faster. Her knife and fork slid about in her wet
hands as the seconds ticked by in agonising