Kasey Michaels - How to Wed a Baron

His smile was different this time than it had been earlier. She could see this one in his eyes as well as on his lips. “Yes, it certainly is. You’re going to bankrupt me, aren’t you, minx? At least I’ve been forewarned. Please feel free to augment your wardrobe in any way you wish. I suggest you begin with your nightwear.”

She drew the dressing gown more closely about her. He had already made his point. She did need new nightwear. Preferably fashioned out of chain mail.

“Ah, now I’ve insulted you.” He pulled a straight-back chair away from the wall and turned it about, straddling it as he sat down. “I apologize, and can only put it down to something I learned earlier this evening.”

At least he wasn’t so big, now that he’d sat down. “The something you believe we must speak of tonight? Does it have anything to do with that nonsense you were spouting this afternoon? Because you very nearly frightened me. I thought I’d been betrothed to a lunatic.”

“Yes, I suppose you did. I’d like to apologize for that, Alina. I was under the mistaken impression that your king had informed you of—well, how do I put this?”

Her bare feet were beginning to feel chilled against the cold floor. “I would suggest, my lord, that you put it quickly. I would like to return to my bed.”

He stood up, replacing the chair against the wall, and held out his hand to her. “Much to my shock and even, yes, my consternation, I believe the devil is in it for me no matter where you deposit yourself, so why don’t you do that? Tuck the covers up under your chin, and perhaps I’ll be able to twist my mind around what I have to say.”

Now, what did he mean by that curious statement? Really, if it weren’t for the yellowed teeth, Count Eberharter was beginning to seem like the lesser of two evils. At least he was supposedly sane.

Alina scurried across the room and climbed onto the high bed, not unaware that she was, even if just for a moment, all but aiming her backside at her betrothed. Thinking about uncontrollable lust and dropping hats, she slid herself beneath the covers with alacrity. Then she quickly pulled the covers up and under her chin. “Back where I began,” she said, looking at him. “But you’re still here.”

Not only was he still there, but he had managed to pour himself a glass of wine, using the same glass she and Tatiana had used, as it was the only one on the tray. The thought passed through her mind that she and the companion had employed the wine for courage. Had he felt a similar need?

“I had a long and rather interesting chat with your secretary, Alina. He tells me that you believe this marriage of ours has been concocted solely to display friendship between your king and my Prince Regent, and to be an outward show of a new era of trade cooperation between our two countries now that Europe is once more at peace. Is that true?”

“No,” she said quietly, because she was, at heart, an honest person, and because her toes were curling beneath the covers at the way he kept looking at her and she would probably trip over her tongue if she dared a lie. “Not solely, my lord.”

“Justin,” he said, cocking his head very slightly. “Go on.”

“Justin,” she repeated, trying out his name, wishing her heart would kindly stop racing as if she’d just run up the long, curving flight of stairs at home. “Those were the king’s reasons, and your king’s, as well, I suppose. But I could have refused, you know.”

“How fortunate for you.”

She heard something in his voice, something that pulled all of her attention to him. “You had no choice?”

“Well, we all have choices, I suppose. Mine, however, were not acceptable to me.”

“Neither were mine,” Alina said, pushing up the pillows behind her so that she could sit back against them. She felt ridiculous, just lying there, while he stood over her like some…some…stallion. “Aunt Mimi made it very clear that if I refused this grand honor the king was gifting me with, I would be married off to someone of her choosing. She seemed entirely too delighted to have that power, so here I am.”

“I’ve been many things in my life, Alina, but I believe this may be the first time I am being seen as the lesser of two evils. I’m flattered.”

“You probably shouldn’t be, you know. I really never considered you. I’ve always wanted to travel to England. I want to meet the rest of my family, now that my parents are gone. It isn’t pleasant, you understand, to think that your single remaining relative is Aunt Mimi.”

Justin chuckled softly. “We must be thankful, then, that she didn’t decide to escort you here herself.”

Alina nodded, actually beginning to relax. Which was ridiculous. She was in bed, and he was standing there, and these newly awakened parts of her body were becoming more and more interested in having him continue to stand there. “She’s convinced Englishmen are all barbarians, so she refused to accompany me. She may even now be rubbing her hands together in glee, believing some great bear has already eaten me, or something.”

“There are no bears in England, Alina. At least not of the four-legged variety. I was told your mother was English, but I hadn’t given that fact very much thought. What’s your family name?”

“You’ll allow me to go see them?”

Justin shrugged. “I see no reason not to, do you?”

“No, I don’t. But Luka told me that English husbands are very strict, and that I will not be allowed to walk out alone, most especially in London, and that, as a wife, I will no longer have a mind of my own, but only my husband’s will and permission.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, which for some unknown reason suddenly seemed quite a natural thing for him to do. “God’s teeth! No wonder you don’t like me. He told you all of that? Did he tell you that we lock wives in the cellars if they dare to disobey, and keep them there on a diet of stale bread and ditch water for a month?”

Alina’s eyes widened at this, but then she noticed the tiniest bit of crinkling around the outside of Justin’s eyes. “You said that you and he had a long talk this evening. Did he tell you that I’m a very good shot and that I have a very bad temper?”

“He said you are prone to do whatever people tell you not to do. He didn’t mention any proficiency with firearms.”

“Oh. Then perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it, either. And not just with firearms. I am also extremely proficient at archery, and I know how to throw a knife so that it actually sticks in whatever it hits. That isn’t easy, you know, getting the handle not to hit first.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” Justin said, and she believed him, because he was looking at her with some interest. “Many Englishwomen are proficient at archery. Some enjoy shooting, although not many. But I don’t believe I’ve ever met a female who knows how to throw a knife without the handle hitting the target first. Why would you want to learn such a thing?”

Alina lowered her eyes for a moment, and then looked at him again. “Your English ladies were safe here, on your island, while Bonaparte seemed to go where he willed all across Europe. My father said that when the fox threatens the chicken house, even the hens must know how to defend themselves.”

“Luka told me your father died at Waterloo. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Alina said, sighing. “But he didn’t mean to die. If he did, he wouldn’t have left me with Aunt Mimi. He would have been certain to leave instructions that I be sent to England, I’m sure of it. But Luka isn’t so sure, as Papa never said anything to him.”

“Ah, yes, your mother’s family.”

“My family,” she clarified. She hadn’t really thought seriously about her mother’s family, not until her father was gone, but she’d daydreamed about how they would be. How they’d love her. “They live in Kent. I looked at a map, and it isn’t all that far away from London. It’s all down here the way Portsmouth is, at the fat end of the island, and not up near Scotland.”