Free Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] by Christmas Angel

apply your mind to more important matters, my lord."
    "Slavery and the national debt, no doubt." He released a plaintive, and insincere, sigh. "Very well. I leave fashion to you. But no black, beige, gray, or violet I forbid it."
    It was ridiculous to have this young man forbidding her anything, even in jest, but she sensed that he could enforce his will. What on earth was she letting herself in for? She waited tensely for his kiss, but he hesitated thoughtfully then drew her toward a chair. He sat and pulled her onto his lap.
    "My lord! What are you doing?"
    "Forgive me for being forceful," he said while holding her with quite remarkable strength, "but I need to be sure we are physically compatible."
    With a gasp Judith braced her hands on his chest "If you think for one moment that I... that we..."
    He relaxed his hold and laid a hand over her lips, laughter in his eyes. "Of course not. In broad daylight in your parlor? You could have avoided all this, you know, by accepting a decorous betrothal kiss." He captured her hands so she could not push away, and turned serious. "You see, ma'am, despite your best intentions, you may not be able to overcome a natural reluctance to be intimate with a man other than your first husband. That would be fair neither to you, nor to me."
    Judith wondered just what he did intend, and what she should do about it. She didn't like to be sitting on his knee like this. In his fondest moods, Sebastian had taken her on his knee in this very chair, calling her his angel. In the first years she had loved it, but then later it had become ridiculous, and ridiculous was what she remembered.
    "It would help," he said dryly, "if you would relax a little, and not sit like an apprehensive child on a surly great-uncle's knee."
    She thought perhaps she saw a way out of this situation. She composed herself piously. "My husband used to hold me like this in this very chair," she told him, and glanced soulfully at the portrait hanging over the mantel.
    He followed her eyes and studied the picture. Judith wished she hadn't drawn his attention to it. It showed Sebastian at his most absurd. He was dressed "poetically" in a loose lilac dressing robe, with a soft cravat knotted at his neck, and his hair in its best curls. He held a Judith Rossiter rose in his left hand and a quill in his right as he stared into the distance seeking inspiration.
    She looked at manly, vital Lord Charrington, wondering if he would withdraw his offer on the spot.
    He met her eyes with a flicker of naughty humor that startled her. "You are uncomfortable to be watched by him? Then it will make this an even better test, won't it?" He abruptly moved his supporting arm so she swayed back, and had to go limp or strain her spine. Sebastian had certainly never done that! She felt positively carnal to be sprawled across a man's lap in this manner.
    The fingers of his left hand curled around her neck to play gently there, but she was perfectly aware that they could also hold her down. His right hand came to stroke the side of her face. "Judith," he said softy, using her name for the first time. "Judith, my wife to be, within weeks we will be naked in a bed. Can you welcome me?"
    Naked! She felt herself go stiff. She and Sebastian had never disrobed. Never. But she forced herself to relax. She had come too far to retreat. She reminded herself of all the advantages there would be for the children. "Willingly," she lied.
    He looked understandably dubious. "Then call me Leander."
    "Leander," she muttered, studying the pearl pin in his crisp cravat.
    He turned her head up to his. " I am more interesting than my clothing, as you will find."
    Judith knew she had colored at this blatant reference to bodies, but hoped it didn't look as if she were afraid. Nor was she precisely afraid. She would prefer that their marital duties were performed in the manner to which she was accustomed, but if he wanted her clothes off that was no reason to balk.
    She