His Contract Bride (Banks Brothers Brides 1)

by Rose Gordon

  “I already suggested that,” Edward repeated though it was clear neither were actually listening to him.

  “Perhaps if you spent as much time studying Regina and getting to know what she likes as you do your science circulars, you wouldn't have these problems,” John suggested with all the bluntness of a younger brother.

  “Don't listen to him; he's barely out of leading strings,” Joseph said, curling his lips up in disgust. “A lady's responsibility is seeing to her husband's needs. Just tell her what you need her to do and have done with it.” He shook his head and muttered, “Get to know her better. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.”

  But it wasn't the most ridiculous thing Edward had ever heard. Those days he and Regina had spent together had been surprisingly fun. She may not know a single thing about science, but at least she'd attempted to answer his asinine questions and seemed content to spend her days with him. An idea formed in his mind. “Perhaps I should see if she'd like to join me in starting up that biological society I've been trying to form. I’d planned to invite some of the other gentlemen who'd expressed interest in such a society for an informal meeting. Perhaps she'd like to participate, too.”

  John groaned loudly then threw his head backwards. “Edward, I said to find out what she likes. Science is what you like—”

  “She seemed content to discuss it with me before,” Edward interrupted with a frown.

  “Content, but did she enjoy it?” John asked.

  Edward threw his hands into the air. This marriage business was turning into a lot of work. “How the devil am I supposed to know?”

  “Well, I'll tell you. She didn't,” John said flatly.

  “And how would you know?”

  John sat upright and shrugged. “Did you find it fun when Mother made us play hoodman blind or shoe the wild mare at Christmastime?”

  Edward blinked. “What the devil does that have to do with anything?”

  “Just answer. Did you find that fun?”

  “No.”

  “But you did it because it appeased Mother, didn't you?”

  Edward stared at his brother. For being only fourteen and finding himself in trouble more times than not, his brother was surprisingly observant.

  A giant grin split his brother's face. “While you like to observe plants and animals, I like to observe people. Regina might tolerate your science nonsense more than most, but those aren't her interests. They're yours. Find hers.”

  “When the devil did you learn so much about ladies?” John opened his mouth to answer, and Edward cut him off by lifting his hand to stop his words. “After further thought, please don't answer that. There are some things I'm better off not knowing.”

  “And there are some things I'm better off not telling you.”

  ~Chapter Thirteen~

  What remained of Regina's good humor was disappearing faster than the biscuits Lady Sinclair was snatching off the platter in front of her.

  “This has got to be the most uncomfortable settee in all of London,” Lady Sinclair declared with a frown. She wiggled on the settee and made a show of fluffing an unfluffable pillow.

  “Perhaps you'd like to place another pillow behind your back?” Regina offered, extending what must have been an overstuffed pillow at one time.

  Lady Sinclair reached one bejeweled hand out and took the pillow before stuffing it behind her back with a huff. She leaned back against the pillow, reclining herself to a perfect forty-five degree angle. “Only a slight improvement, I'm afraid.”

  There wasn't a chance in the world Regina was about to apologize or offer to get Lady Sinclair anything else to make her more comfortable. As if her morning call hadn't been enough to endure, she'd been locked in this room for the last two hours listening to Lady Sinclair complain about her newfound condition: breeding.

  “Wouldn't you know that my chest has nearly tripled in size,” Lady Sinclair announced, cupping her bosom for emphasis.

  Regina fought the urge to roll her eyes at Lady Sinclair’s ridiculous announcement of her breasts tripling in size so soon gave a cursory glance to where Lady Sinclair was cupping her breasts. Honestly, she couldn’t tell a bit of difference in their size. “I'm sure they'll return to their former size after your grand event.” Truly, did it matter? Lady Sinclair hadn't had a very large bust to begin with. At least now, she'd be able to wear those swooped gowns she'd once paid an unintended compliment to Regina for wearing.

  Lady Sinclair reached up and tightened one of the pins holding her center curl in place. “I'm hoping after I tell Joseph tonight that he’ll leave me be.”

  “Pardon?”

  A small smile bent Lady Sinclair's lips. “That is the best part of increasing, dear. Once you've conceived, your husband will leave you be.”

  “Oh.” Why was that a good thing? Did Lady Sinclair not enjoy her husband's attentions? Regina's skin grew warm. Lord and Lady Sinclair's marriage bed was none of her concern. “Have you thought of what you'll name him?”

  Lady Sinclair's face flushed pink. “Regina, it is most indecent to talk about such matters.” She dropped her voice. “However, I shall tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else.”

  That was a promise Regina had no trouble making. For who of her acquaintance would possibly care to know?

  “If it's a boy, Joseph wants to name him Marcus.” She twisted her lips as if she'd just tasted a lemon. “Isn't that ghastly?”

  No. It was actually a very nice, respectable name, but Regina had no urge to argue with Lady Sinclair. “And if the baby is a girl?”

  “I shall name her Olivia Catherine Mary Marie Victoria Sinclair.” She clapped her hands together. “Isn't it lovely?”

  “Of course,” Regina murmured, vowing never to use a single one of those names for her daughter should she ever be fortunate enough to have one. Instinctively, her hands went to her stomach. She sighed. It was too soon to know either way.

  “Regina, darling, would you be a dear and close the window all the way? There's too much breeze coming into the room. I should hate for the baby to grow cold.”

  That was the stupidest thing Regina had ever heard and considered denying Lady Sinclair's request. But, at least if she closed the window the remaining four inches it was still open, she'd have a few moments reprieve from having to look at Lady Sinclair's callused feet that she had bared and propped up on the end of the settee.

  She pulled the window shut. “Is that better?” Your Highness?

  “Much,” Lady Sinclair said with a yawn. She closed her eyes and started to hum.

  Regina closed her eyes, too. What had she done to deserve this torment? Perhaps it was the price she paid for arranging for Father to sit next to Lady Sinclair at the breakfast.

  “Banish the thought at once,” Lady Sinclair scolded, opening one of her grey eyes. “He'll know of your deception when, at the end of nine months, there is no grand event.”

  Regina started. “I don't know what you mean.”

  Lady Sinclair cackled. “Is that your story, then?” She shifted to get more comfortable. “Like other women of our station, we all have a duty to fulfill, and only once it's done do you get a reprieve.”

  Embarrassment washed over Regina as understanding sank in. Lady Sinclair had thought Regina was scheming how to avoid Edward's visits! If only she knew the truth. A wave of sadness washed over her. Edward didn't seem interested in her in that way any longer. Last night, he hadn't even tried to kiss her as he'd done in the past. “I know my duty.”

  “Just be sure that you do,” Lady Sinclair said, closing her eyes again. “You have other duties, too.”

  Regina pursed her lips. If Lady Sinclair thought to give her a lecture on her duties as baroness, she had better think again. “I know my duties, thank you.”

  Lady Sinclair's eyes sprang open. “My, my, has a spide
r bit your bottom?”

  “No.” Memories of the conversation she'd overheard a snatch of yesterday between Edward and Lord Sinclair about her not attending to her duties came to mind. “I just don't care to hear another person tell me that I need to decorate Watson Townhouse.”

  “Then I won't say the words, but the meaning is there,” Lady Sinclair said. “Edward might not be forceful enough to tell you your duties, but I tell you now, if you do not decorate this house before that breakfast Joseph asked me to help you plan, you will embarrass your husband.”

  The air in Regina's lungs left in one swift whoosh. “Pardon? What was it you just said?”

  Lady Sinclair flicked her wrist. “There's no shame in taking help. With it still being three weeks away, I'm sure we can salvage everything.”

  “Salvage everything?” Regina tried her best not to be too offended by Lady Sinclair's insinuation that she'd made a hash of things when she hadn't even done anything yet. “And what makes you think my plans need salvaging?”

  “There's no call to be upset,” Lady Sinclair said, pursing her lips. “The fact remains that you are unskilled in your position as baroness and require my assistance.”

  “Thank you, but I do not require your assistance.”

  “That's not what your husband thinks.”

  Regina's heart couldn't be any more crushed if it had been trampled by a stampede of horses. Edward thought so little of her that he'd requested Lady Sinclair to help her plan her breakfast. “Is that so?” Regina challenged with a false bravado. Having to fend off remarks about her family's status in Society had taught her not to let them know how much they hurt you. Perhaps that's how Edward felt when he was ridiculed about his fascination with science.

  “Those are merely the facts,” Lady Sinclair responded airily, a smug smile on her lips.

  “I think you forget yourself, Lady Sinclair. This is my home and I shall open it to whomever I wish, whenever I wish, and in whatever capacity I wish.”

  Lady Sinclair's mouth fell agape. “Well, I never.”

  “Never what?” Regina goaded, spurred on by the fury building inside of her. “Never had anyone deny your request and stand up to you before?” What was the matter with her? Why was she making this into such a large issue? Their husbands had been friends nearly their whole lives. Surely they weren't ready to part ways because their wives didn't get along.

  “You silly chit,” Lady Sinclair hissed. “You have a husband you don't deserve because your father is the richest man in Town, and you're nothing but an embarrassment to him.”

  Lady Sinclair might as well have slapped Regina for the amount of venom—and truth—in her accusations. “I'm sorry you feel that way,” she said, standing.

  “Apology accepted,” Lady Sinclair said, gesturing for Regina to resume her seat.

  There wasn't a rabbit's chance in a lions' den that she would heed Lady Sinclair's command. “I have duties to attend to.”

  Lady Sinclair arched a dark brow. “Poring over upholstery swatches, I presume.”

  Regina ground her teeth. “No. I have the decorating for this house well in hand, thank you.”

  “You do?” Lady Sinclair made a show of looking around the sparsely decorated drawing room then sighed. “Regina, I shan't remind you again. Your first duty as baroness is—”

  “To do the baron the great honor of allowing a small gathering to meet in the drawing room in two weeks to discuss the formation of a biological society,” Edward cut in smoothly. He cast Lady Sinclair a quelling look that was far more pleasant than the scowl on Lord Sinclair's face.

  “And what of the breakfast I'm planning?”

  He shrugged. “That, too. Would you care for some help?”

  “Help?” Regina echoed, what was left of her heart grinding to dust. So it was true? He didn't trust her to do an acceptable job and wanted Lady Sinclair to help her plan the breakfast? She was going to be ill.

  “You haven't sent out the invitations yet, have you?” Edward asked, his face unusually serious.

  All Regina could do was shake her head. Her world was crumbling around her faster than she could think to respond.

  “Good. I'd like to take care of the guest list, if you'd be willing to see to the menu, decorations and the like?”

  So now she was qualified to make the arrangements, just as long as he was able to decide who was to be invited and who wasn't? She understood now.

  “Very well,” she said as evenly as she could despite the slight quiver of her lip. Then, unable to bear another moment in the room surrounded by three people who thought she was just as incompetent as her father always said she was, she quit the room. Manners be damned.

  ~Chapter Fourteen~

  Edward stood by the door of the drawing room, waiting for his wife to return home. Not only had Lady Sinclair driven Regina from the drawing room this morning, but she'd actually been so upset she'd left the house.

  He'd spent the entire afternoon yesterday thinking over everything he knew of his wife, which admittedly wasn't much, and had wanted to spend the day with her. But when Joseph and Lady Sinclair had shown up uninvited, his plans were destroyed, leaving him to wait for her by the door like a slobbering suitor.

  “Did you enjoy your afternoon?” he asked, stepping into the hall to greet her.

  She removed her green pelisse and handed it to Calvert. “It was mildly entertaining, I suppose.”

  He groaned. She'd been gone for more than six hours and that's all she had to say about it? “Did you buy anything?” He craned his neck to see if the servants were outside unloading the carriage.

  “Yes. It'll be delivered within the fortnight.”

  “Good, good.” He led her into the drawing room. After they were both seated, he stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. “Is there anything else you need to shop for?”

  “You mean like decorations for your house?”

  He waved her off. He might not find the house flattering to look at, but it wasn't so bad. “Don't bother with that if you don't wish to. There's more furniture in the attic that can be brought down, then it won't look quite so sparse.”

  “Enough so that all the gentlemen you're inviting over to talk about forming your biological society will have a place to sit in the drawing room?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  “Yes?”

  “The meeting doesn't have to be held here. When I walked into that room and heard Lady Sinclair spouting nonsense, it was the first thing I could think to say.”

  She nodded once. “I see. So then you don't wish to host your meeting here?”

  He shifted in his seat. For some reason, he had a feeling his answer held more importance to her than just a simple yes or no. “I'd like to, yes, but only if it's not an inconvenience to you.”

  “Is there anything I need to do in preparation?”

  “No. Just be willing to give up the drawing room for a few hours that day. Oh, and be willing to listen to me practice my speech,” he added with a grin.

  “In that case, I think you should ask your friends to meet at Lord Sinclair's. I'm sure Lady Sinclair would love to hear your speech.”

  “You sly minx.” He bent forward and reached to place his hand on her knee then, at the last moment, changed its course and snagged a biscuit from the platter he'd asked to be brought in while he waited for her return. Regina didn't like being touched, he reminded himself. “If it's too much trouble, we can meet somewhere else, Regina.”

  “It's not too much trouble,” she murmured, taking a stale biscuit from the platter. “I'd be happy to relinquish my drawing room time for your gathering. I'll even make sure Cook makes plenty of biscuits to eat and greens to study.”

  He chuckled. She had a great sense of humor—but only when she felt brave enough to express it. He coc
ked his head to the side. That was another thing he'd noticed about Regina. She did have a mind of her own; she was just very careful not to speak it, almost like she lacked the confidence to do so. Even this morning when he'd walked in to find Lady Sinclair lecturing her, she didn't seem to be standing her own ground. A bitter taste filled his mouth. This was the work of her father. Sure, young ladies were supposed to be demure and docile, but they weren't trained monkeys. She shouldn't be so afraid to speak her mind that she let people trample over her.

  “And what of you,” he forced himself to ask. “Will you be joining the meeting?”

  She bit her lip. “I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” he repeated with a huff. “Well, madam, if you cannot act a bit more excited than that, then you are not welcome to join.”

  Her eyes flared wide and her mouth didn't know whether to stay open or shut. “P-pardon me?”

  He folded his arms across his chest and sighed. “I'm sorry, Regina. But until you can show a bit more enthusiasm for discussing bulbs, roots, petals, thorns, thistles, stems, leaves and the growth patterns of orchids, you are banned from the meetings.”

  “Banned?”

  “Banned,” he repeated.

  She stared at him a moment, her eyes were still wide and her lips pressed together in a thin line. It was all he could do to hold his straight face and not take it all back. “Very well,” she said at last. “I shall have to endeavor to find something else to do that day. Perhaps, Lady Sinclair would like to come over and discuss the creation of a weekly sewing circle to take place in your study.”

  A sharp bark of laughter rent the air. “You wouldn't dare.” Frankly, he didn't care if she did dare to do that. Finding her voice long enough to make such a statement was certainly a start, but it was only to him in private. She hadn't actually done anything yet.