unbuttoned his coat and waistcoat and loosened his cravat.
“Champagne for the mistress?”
Oz glanced at Isolde.
“Cognac, please.”
Oz grinned. “We deserve it.”
“Indeed. You were everything a loving wife could wish for. Thank you.”
“You may thank me later in a more personal way.”
She laughed. “My pleasure.”
He grinned. “I know.”
But when the fresh bottle arrived, she watched him drink with a kind of reckless speed that was disconcerting. Noticing the apprehension in her eyes, he lifted his glass to her and offered her a glittering smile. “After hours of posturing and guile, darling, I need to wash the bad taste from my mouth. Don’t be alarmed. I’m never difficult until my third bottle.”
“Perhaps you should eat something.”
“Very wifely,” he murmured, pouring himself another brandy. “But I’m not hungry.”
A timid knock on the door was shouted away.
Josef was brave enough to open the door and announce, “A Mr. Malmsey, sir.”
“I’ll see him,” Isolde said, jumping to her feet.
Oz lunged and caught her wrist. “Stay. Send him up, Josef. Sorry, did I hurt you?”
Rubbing her wrist, Isolde shook her head.
He gave her credit for courage; he’d have to be more careful. “Why don’t you order us some food,” he suggested in atonement. “I probably should eat. Anything,” he added to the query in her gaze. “You decide.”
He consciously set out to be civil, greeting Malmsey with good cheer, thanking him for his quick service, signing each document without looking at it, his bold scrawl dwarfing Isolde’s fine copperplate script. “Would you like a drink?” he asked when the last paper was back in Malmsey’s leather portfolio.
He caught Isolde shaking her head behind his back and grinned. “My wife is alarmed at my drinking, so I won’t insist you join me. Is there anything else?”
It was dismissal no matter the softness of his voice.
But Malmsey glanced at Isolde, wondering if she required his help.
“I’m perfectly fine, Malmsey,” Isolde said. “My Lord Lennox assures me he’s not difficult until his third bottle.”
Oz lifted the brandy bottle from the table. “Two, Malmsey. Your client is quite safe.”
But he didn’t eat when the food arrived, and when he broached his third bottle, Isolde said, “I think I’ll see about finding a book to read in your library.”
As she made to rise, he put out his arm, forcing her back. “Talk to me instead. Tell me the world is good”-he smiled tightly-“discounting the fashionable world, of course. Parasites all,” he muttered.
“You’ve been too long in the ton. Country society is not so brittle.”
“But is it good? Convince me of that with your betrothed-what was his name?-leaving you at the altar.”
“He didn’t precisely leave me at the altar.”
Oz looked at her and snorted.
“Well, I suppose he did in a way.”
“His name is?”
“I’m not grossly wounded, Oz. His name is Will, Baron Fowler, and you needn’t snarl.”
“I wasn’t snarling. I was grumbling. Achille brought you cake I see. Was it to your liking?”
“Everything he makes is to my liking.”
“Good, because he’s coming with us.”
“When?” The papers were signed.
“Tomorrow morning. The roads at night can be treacherous. Traveling by day is safer for you.”
“You’re not coming?”
He smiled at the hint of wistfulness in her voice. “Of course I’m coming. Would I miss meeting Will?”
“Don’t be difficult now. I’m quite reconciled to the situation.”
“I’m never difficult.”
“You’re always difficult.”
“How soon a wife turns shrewish,” he drawled. “I might have to teach you some manners.”
“You’d have to first know what manners are.”
He laughed. “Then I’ll have to teach you something else.”
“There at least you have competence.”
He dipped his head. “So I’ve been told.”
“By all your lovers who glared at me over tea. How did you manage to service them all?” She’d counted at least a score in the course of the day.
“A robust constitution and a fondness for women.”
“For sex, you mean.”
“Yes, for that.”
“Will they come calling again?”
“Josef won’t let them in.”
“But they’ll try.”
He shrugged. “It won’t do them any good.” He flashed a wicked grin. “I’m a happily married man.”
She couldn’t help but smile back. “You were wonderful this afternoon. I mean it.” She kissed her fingertips. “It was a beautiful sight.”
“I’ll surpass what you saw today when Will comes to call.”
“I shouldn’t be so shallow, but-”
“You are,” he sardonically finished. “As would anyone be, darling, in the same situation. I know what country society is like-incestuous, exclusive, everyone knowing everything. Did you go to the wedding?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“There’s your mistake. Never show your feelings. That’s when the claws come out. You must have been bloodied.”
“I have good friends. In some ways, incestuous as country society may be, it’s not so vicious as the ton.”
“Yes, it is. You must be well liked.”
“I like to think I am.”
“I’m curious. Did this Will marry an heiress richer than you?”
“Yes, but that’s not why he married her.”
“If you say so.”
“Don’t look at me like that. He didn’t marry her for her money.”
“Does Will have money?”
“Some.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t look so smug. He has sufficient wealth.”
She was becoming distrait. “I need a nap,” Oz said, coming to his feet and holding out his hand to Isolde. “Come keep me company. We didn’t sleep much last night.”
“You shouldn’t have said that about Will,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry. Truly.” Reaching down, he grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll make it up to you. Tell me what you want.”
“Because you’re so rich you can give me whatever I want.”
He grinned. “As long as we understand each other.”
She punched him.
He dragged her close, wrapped his arms around her, and held her tightly. “We’re two lost souls, darling. Let me entertain you. At least for now.”
Resting her chin on his chest, she gazed up at him, debating whether to take issue with his characterization. Not in the mood for argument, however, she softly sighed. “You
