Free To Marry an Heiress by Lorraine Heath Page B

ought to be able to dress himself.”
    “Ah, but I do, Gina.”
    He wrapped such carnality around the shortened version of her name that she almost lost her grip on her parasol. Clutching it, she strove to regain her composure, to not think about how nice it would be to have him whisper her name in that enticing manner beside her ear during the height of passion. She desperately wanted to swallow, but her mouth had grown too dry.
    “Well, then, Devon—” His name squeaking out of her mouth more closely echoed fear than sensuality. She was not gifted at playing mating games, acting coy, or being sophisticatedly brazen. “My opinion of you has improved ten-fold.”
    “Once we are wed, I’ll see to hiring a lady’s maid for you.”
    “That’s not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself.”
    She’d gone years without a maid. Of course, she’d worn much simpler dresses at the time. She’d had a maid while she was in New York, and Lauren’s servants had been assisting her since she’d come to London. She supposed she should graciously accept his offer to hire a maid for her. She’d spoken quickly, because she hadn’t wanted him to think she was unable to manage on her own. She didn’t know why his impression of her abilities mattered, but it did.
    “I’m afraid I must insist. I’ll not have it bandied about that my wife must do without.”
    “Your peers’ perception of you is important to you,” she said speculatively.
    “Quite so. As such, I would appreciate it if you would not disclose that financial need brought us together rather than a mutual attraction. I’ve been quite adept at hiding my impoverished state.”
    Arrogant pride was carved into his features. She was only just beginning to realize that it might not have been laziness that had brought him to her father but fear of appearing to be less of a man in front of those who mattered to him. “It must have cost you dearly to approach my father.”
    He clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the oars. “A price I was willing to pay.”
    “Wouldn’t it have been easier to seek employment—”
    “Of course, it would have been easier, but as I attempted to explain last night and mistakenly thought you had comprehended, people of my rank do not work. Not with our hands, not with ourbacks. A man does not sweat to maintain his standing among the peerage. Sweat is only allowed when he plays or makes love.”
    An image of tiny beads of moisture covering his flesh flashed through her mind. Averting her gaze, she watched the water ripple as he sliced the oars through the river. “I see,” she replied in a strangled voice.
    Did she see? Devon wondered. Did she truly understand what it was to be a peer of the realm? To be constantly scrutinized and judged? To be born into a way of life you were expected to follow regardless of your own desires or dreams?
    To have obligation and duty thrust on you at an early age? To understand your place in society and to know you could never step beyond its boundaries?
    “I’ve acquired the license we’ll need and made arrangements for our marriage to take place Friday morning,” he said somberly, hoping to deflect his morose thoughts.
    She snapped her head around so quickly he heard her neck pop.
    “You really did it, made all the arrangements?”
    She appeared quite alarmed.
    “Have you changed your mind?” he asked quietly. If she had, he would indeed have to woo her.
    “No, of course not. I just”—she tightened her grip on her parasol—“I just never really expected to get married. I haven’t quite settled my mind around the possibility.”
    “Around the certainty , Gina, for I assure you I shall not rescind my offer to marry you.”
    She nodded slowly, but he couldn’t determine if she was relieved or disappointed.
    “Regarding your attire for the wedding, something similar to what you’re wearing today would be appropriate.” He’d been unprepared for her elegance when she’d