Two Wrongs Make a Marriage. Christine Merrill

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      In the company of her new husband, the imposter Jack Briggs, the ride to Essex was proving intolerable. Instead of the sweet afterglow of a honeymoon, the day after Thea’s marriage was rather like waking with a bad head from too much wine. Her brain ached from trying to comprehend what had happened to her. Her body was stiff and sore from a night spent without sleep on the hard couch in her husband’s room, muscles rigid and teeth clenched with anger and frustration. The Kenton carriage was well sprung and roomy, but she might as well have been travelling in an open dog cart for all the comfort it gained her.

      It was precisely the condition that the false Lord Kenton should have been experiencing. He had snored his way through the night, wrapped in a cloud of cheap spirits and the monogrammed linens of one of the finest families in England. Instead of waking the worse for drink and racked with guilt at how he had treated Thea and her family, the morning found him happy, relaxed and quite pleased with the way the day was going. When she had pressed him for an explanation, he had been unwilling to share the reason for his good mood. He acted as if lying about his life and identity, marrying some unsuspecting girl and being sorely disappointed in the result was an activity that happened every day.

      Perhaps, to him, it did. The idea that she might be one of a string of similar Lady Kentons was more than disturbing. He did not seem the sort to travel from town to town, ruining innocents and stealing fortunes. But until last night, she’d have sworn that such a thing as had already happened was quite impossible. How could she be sure?

      And he was whistling. Thea could not identify the tune. But she suspected, judging by the look in his eyes, that the lyrics were inappropriate for female ears.

      She glared at him. ‘Stop that incessant noise.’

      Jack stared back at her, all innocence. The whistle paused. ‘You do not like music?’

      ‘That is not music. It is precisely the opposite. If you had any manners …’

      ‘And the kind of breeding and education …’ he said, in a pompous tone, waving a hand. ‘We have already established that I do not. You were the one who wished to marry me. Now you must learn to make do.’ He went back to whistling.

      ‘It is vulgar,’ she said with desperation.

      ‘And so am I.’ His eyes were narrowed, as though it had been possible to hurt him with a statement of truth.

      ‘I have no doubt that you are vulgar, after your comments of the previous evening. But it is all the more reason for you to stop. You should aspire to be something better than you are.’

      ‘As you do?’ He folded his arms across his chest, waiting for an answer. His cheerful manner disappeared. He was looking at her, for all the world, as though he were the one who had been wronged by her scheming.

      ‘Is this some veiled reference to my willingness to—’ her mouth puckered in revulsion as she parroted his words back to him ‘—hold out for a man of sufficient rank?’ It was as if he thought her no better than a whore for marrying him. ‘There is nothing wrong with seeking a decent future through marriage.’

      ‘For a woman, perhaps,’ he said.

      ‘You were quick enough to do it yourself.’

      ‘I was doing it in service to another,’ he said firmly.

      As was she. Her family would have seen the benefit, had her plan worked as expected. But his comment rankled. ‘You are little better than a servant to Spayne, then? If so, I order you to stop whistling.’

      ‘I may be a servant to Spayne. But to you?’ He grinned. ‘I am a husband. And humble though I might be, it is not your place to command anything of me. As I remember, it was you who promised to obey.’

      ‘But not to obey you. I said the words when I thought you were Kenton. I promised loyalty to a man who does not exist.’

      ‘The majority of women who marry would say the same thing. I fail to see why I owe an alteration of my behaviour to you, if you were not aware of the fact that marriage changes everything between us. Now hush, woman, and cease your nagging. I am trying to think.’ He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes with a blissful smile upon his face.

      Marriage changed everything. He was right in that, at least. For the moment, it left her completely dependent on the man across from her, for she could think of no way to explain away what had happened without making matters even worse than they were. Jack had stopped whistling, though she doubted it was in an effort to spare her nerves. But she found the silence even more annoying than the noise had been. ‘What are you thinking about?’ she said at last.

      He opened one eye. ‘Are you to be one of those women, then? The sort that is continually trying to pry out the contents of a man’s head for their own entertainment?’

      ‘It is not entertainment that I desire. I merely wish to know what you have planned for our future together.’

      ‘Together?’ He laughed. ‘I do not plan any such thing. I am taking you to Spayne, just as he wished. He will explain as much or as little of his situation as he chooses. Between us, we will see if there is anything that can be salvaged of his original plan. You will help us. And when it is through, I will return to my life. Beyond that, we have no future together.’

      The glee with which he contemplated the end of their connection hurt, although why it should she had no idea. She wanted to be rid of him as much as he wanted to break with her. ‘You seem to be angry at me, which is hardly fair.’ Had she not worked long and hard to mould herself into the perfect wife? The least he could do was appreciate her effort.

      He was having none of it. ‘You deceived me.’

      ‘Only because you wanted to be deceived,’ she reminded him. ‘At no time did I promise you wealth, or an adequate settlement. Nor did my father. It was you who chose to assume that there was money rather than debt. I, on the other hand, had no reason to believe that you were not Viscount Kenton. I trusted your word as a gentleman.’

      ‘Just as your father trusted de Warde.’ He snorted. ‘The gentry is far too trusting, in my opinion. But you are right. I was a fool. Your sort have been lying to me my whole life and it was only now that I chose to see truth where there was none. I apologise for my bad temper.’

      ‘Apology accepted,’ she said uneasily. Had it been her imagination, or had she just won an argument with the man? Truly not, if she had to do it by claiming herself a liar. ‘But I did not lie to you. I merely omitted certain key portions of the truth. I took a gamble to gain your full attention. But I never claimed to be rich. You merely assumed it.’

      ‘Of course СКАЧАТЬ