Part 29 (2/2)

This morning, she had made a conscious decision to trust him and marry him; now, she was bound by her vows to honor him, and she had absolutely no intention of going back on her own decision or on the vow she made to him in church.

”Elizabeth?” ”Mmmm?”

”While we're on the subject of truth, I have a confession to make.”

Her heart slammed into her ribs, and she went rigid. ”What is it?” she asked tautly.

”The chamber next door is meant to be used as your dressing room and withdrawing room. I do not approve of the English custom of husband and wife sleeping in separate beds.” She looked so pleased that Ian grinned. ”I'm happy to see,” he chuckled, kissing her forehead, ”we agree on that.”

Chapter 31.

In the weeks that followed, Elizabeth discovered to her pleasure that she could ask Ian any question about any subject and that he would answer her as fully as she wished. Not once did he ever patronize her when he replied, or fend her off by pointing out that, as a woD1an, the matter was truly none of her concern-or worse-that the answer would be beyond any female's ability to understand. Elizabeth found his respect for her intelligence enormously flattering-particularly after two astounding discoveries she made about him.

The first occurred three days after their wedding, when they both decided to spend the evening at home, reading.

That night after supper, Ian brought a book he wanted to read from their library-a heavy tome with an incomprehensible t.i.tle-to the drawing room. Elizabeth brought Pride and Prejudice which she'd been longing to read since first hearing of the uproar it was causing among the conservative members of the ton. After pressing a kiss on her forehead, Ian sat down in the high-backed chair beside hers. Reaching across the small table between them for her hand, he linked their fingers together, and opened his book. Elizabeth thought it was incredibly cozy to sit, curled up in a chair beside him, her hand held in his, with a book in her lap, and she didn't mind the small inconvenience of turning the pages with one hand.

Soon, she was so engrossed in her book that it was a full half-hour before she noticed how swiftly Ian turned the pages of his. From the comer of her eye, Elizabeth watched in puzzled fascination as his gaze seemed to slide swiftly down one page, then the facing page, and he turned to the next. Teasingly, she asked, ”Are you reading that book, my lord, or only pretending for my benefit?”

He glanced up sharply, and Elizabeth saw a strange, hesitant expression flicker across his tanned face. As if carefully phrasing his reply, he said slowly, ”I have an-odd ability-to read very quickly.”

”Oh,” Elizabeth replied, ”how lucky you are. I never heard of a talent like that.”

A lazy glamorous smile swept across his face, and he squeezed her hand. ”It's not nearly as uncommon as your eyes,” he said.

Elizabeth thought it must be a great deal more uncommon, but she wasn't completely certain and she let it pa.s.s. The following day, that discovery was completely eclipsed by another one. At Ian's insistence, she'd spread the books from Havenhurst across his desk in order to go over the quarter's accounts, and as the morning wore on, the long columns of figures she'd been adding and multiplying began to blur together and transpose themselves in her mind-due in part, she thought with a weary smile, to the fact that her husband had kept her awake half the night making love to her. For the third time, she added the same long columns of expenditures, and for the third time, she came up with a different sum. So frustrated was she that she didn't realize Ian had come into the room, until he leaned over her from behind and put his hands on the desk on either side of her own. ”Problems?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.

”Yes,” she said, glancing at the clock and realizing that the business acquaintances he was expecting would be there momentarily. As she explained her problem to him, she started shoving loose papers into the books, hurriedly trying to rea.s.semble everything and clear his desk. ”For the last forty-five minutes, I've been adding the same four columns, so that I could divide them by eighteen servants, multiply that by forty servants, which we now have there, times four quarters. Once I know that, I can forecast the real cost of food and supplies with the increased staff. I've gotten three different answers to those miserable columns. and I haven't even tried the rest of the calculations. Tomorrow I'U have to start allover again,” she finished irritably, ”and it takes forever just to get all this laid out and organized.” She reached out to close the book and shove her calculations into it, but Ian stopped her.

”Which columns are they'!” he asked calmly, his surprised gaze studying the genuine ire on her face.

”Those long ones down the left-hand side. It doesn't matter, I'U fight it out tomorrow,” she said. She shoved the chair back. dropped two sheets of paper, and bent over to pick them up. They'd slid beneath the kneehole of the desk. and in growing disgust Elizabeth crawled underneath to get them. Above her, Ian said, ”364.”

”Pardon'!” she asked when she reemerged, clutching the errant sheets of paper.

He was writing it down on a sc.r.a.p of paper. ”364.” ”Do not make light of my wanting to know the figures,” she warned him with an exasperated smile. ”Besides,” she continued, leaning up and pressing an apologetic kiss on his cheek-loving the tangy scent of his cologne, ”I usually enjoy the bookwork. I'm simply a little short of sleep today, because,” she whispered, ”my husband kept me awake half the night.”

”Elizabeth,” he began hesitantly, ”there's something I-” Then he shook his head and changed his mind. and since s.h.i.+pley was already standing in the doorway to announce the arrival of his business acquaintances, Elizabeth thought no more of it.

Until the next morning. Rather than use his study again and disrupt his working schedule, she spread out her books and papers at a desk in the library. With her mind fresh and alert. she made quick progress and, within an hour, she'd gotten the answer she'd been seeking yesterday and double-checked it. Positive that 364 was correct, she smiled as she tried to recall what Ian's wild guess had been yesterday. When she couldn't recall it. she looked among her papers for the one he'd written his guess upon and found it tucked in between the sheets of the book.

With her own answer in one hand, she looked at what he had written. . . Shock sent her slowly to her feet, the paper with Ian's answer clutched in her other hand: 364. Trembling with an uneasy emotion she couldn't identify, she gazed at the answer he had calculated in his head, not on paper, in a matter of seconds, not three-quarters of an hour.

She was still standing there several moments later when Ian walked in to invite her to ride with him. ”Still trying to find your answer, sweetheart?” he asked with a sympathetic grin, mistaking the cause of her wary stare.

”No, I found mine,” she said, her voice unintentionally accusing as she thrust both pieces of paper toward him. ”What I would like to know,” she continued, unable to tear her gaze from him, ”is how it happens to be the same answer you arrived at in a matter of moments.”

His grin faded, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, ignoring the papers in her outthrust hand. His expression carefully impa.s.sive, he said, ”That answer is a little more difficult than the one I wrote down for you-”

”You can do this-calculate all those figures in your mind? In moments?”

He nodded curtly, and when Elizabeth continued to stare at him warily, as if he was a being of unknown origin, his face hardened. In a clipped, cool voice he said, ”I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at me as if I'm a freak.”

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open at his tone and his words. ”I'm not.”

”Yes,” he said implacably. ”You are. Which is why I haven't told you before this.”

Embarra.s.sed regret surged through her at the understand. able conclusion he'd drawn from her reaction. Recovering her composure, she started around the desk toward him. ”What you saw on my face was wonder and awe, no matter how it must have seemed.”

”The last thing I want from you is 'awe,'” he said tightly, and Elizabeth belatedly realized that, while he didn't care what anyone else thought of him, her reaction to all this was obviously terribly important to him. Rapidly concluding that he'd evidently had some experience with other people's reaction to what must surely be a form of genius-and which struck them as ”freakish”-she bit her lip, trying to decide what to say. When nothing came to mind, she simply let love guide her and reacted without artifice. Leaning back against the desk, she sent him an amused, sidelong smile and said, ”I gather you can calculate almost as rapidly as you can read?”

His response was short and chilly. ”Not quite.” ”I see,” she continued lightly. ”I would guess there are close to ten thousand books in your library here. Have you read them all?”

”No.” She nodded thoughtfully, but her eyes danced with admiring laughter as she continued, ”Well, you've been quite busy the past few weeks-dancing attendance on me. No doubt that's kept you from finis.h.i.+ng the last thousand or two.” His face softened as she asked merrily, ”Are you planning to read them all?”

With relief, she saw the answering smile tugging at his lips. ”I thought I'd attend to that next week,” he replied with sham gravity.

”A worthy endeavor,” she agreed. ”I hope you won't start without me. I'd like to watch.”

Ian's shout of laughter was cut short as he s.n.a.t.c.hed her into his arms and buried his face in her fragrant hair, his hands clenching her to him as if he could absorb her sweetness into himself.

”Do you have any other extraordinary skills I ought to know about, my lord?” she whispered, holding him as tightly as he was holding her.

The laughter in his voice was replaced by tender solemnity. ”I'm rather good,” he whispered, ”at loving you.”

In the weeks that followed, he proved it to her in a hundred ways. Among other things, he never objected to the times she was away from him at Havenhurst. To Elizabeth, whose entire life had once been wrapped up in Havenhurst's past and future, it came as something of a surprise to realize very quickly that she rather begrudged much of the time she had to spend there, overseeing the improvements that were getting under way.

To avoid spending more time there than was absolutely necessary, she began bringing home the drawings the architect had made, along with any other problems she'd encountered, so that she could consult with Ian. No matter how busy he was or who he was with, he made time for her. He would sit with her for hours, explaining alternatives to her in a step-by-step fas.h.i.+on which she soon realized was evidence of his inexhaustible patience with her, because Ian's mind did not reason in step-step fas.h.i.+on. With awesome speed, his mind went straight from point A to point Z, from problem to solution, without needing to plod through the normal steps between.

With the exception of the few times she had to stay at Havenhurst, they spent their nights together in his bed, and Elizabeth quickly discovered that their wedding night had been but a small preview of the wild beauty and primitive splendor of his lovemaking. There were times that he lingered over her endlessly, lavis.h.i.+ng her senses with every exquisite sensation, prolonging their release, until Elizabeth was pleading with him to end the sweet torment; other nights, he turned to her in hunger and need and took her with tender roughness and few preliminaries. And Elizabeth could never quite decide which way she liked best. She admitted that to him one night, only to have him take her swiftly and then keep her awake for hours with his tender attentions, so that she might be better able to decide. He taught her to ask, without embarra.s.sment, for what she wanted, and when shyness made her hesitate, he taught her by example that same night. It was a lesson Elizabeth found incredibly stirring as she listened to his husky voice grow thick with desire while he asked to be touched and caressed in particular ways, and when she did, his powerful muscles jumped beneath her touch, and a groan tore from his chest Toward the end of the summer, they went to London, although the city was still somewhat deserted. the Little Season having not yet begun. Elizabeth agreed because she thought it would be convenient for him to be nearer the men with whom he invested large sums of money in complex ventures, and because Alex would be there. Ian went because he wanted Elizabeth to enjoy the position of prestige in society she was ent.i.tled to-and because he enjoyed showing her off in the setting where she sparkled like the jewels he lavished on her. He knew she regarded him as a combination of loving benefactor and wise teacher, but in that last regard, Ian knew she was wrong, for Elizabeth was teaching him, too. By her own example, she taught him to be patient with servants; she taught him to relax; and she taught him that next to lovemaking, laughter was undoubtedly life's most pleasant diversion. At her insistence, he even learned to look tolerantly upon the foolish foibles of many of the ton's members.

So successful was Elizabeth in this last endeavor that they were, within a matter of weeks, rather a favorite couple, much sought after for every sort of charitable and social event. Invitations arrived at the house in Upper Brook Street in large numbers, and together they laughingly invented excuses to avoid many of them so that Ian could work during the day and Elizabeth could occupy her time with something more interesting than social calls.

For Ian that was no problem at all; he was always busy. Elizabeth solved her problem by agreeing, at the urging of some of the ton's most influential old guard, including the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Hawthorne, to join in a charitable endeavor to build a badly needed hospital on the outskirts of London. Unfortunately, the Hospital Fund Raising Committee, to which Elizabeth was a.s.signed, spent most of its time mired down in petty trivialities and rarely made a decision on anything. In a fit of tired frustration, Elizabeth finally asked Ian to step into their drawing room one day, while the committee was meeting there, and to give them the benefit of his expertise. ”And,” she laughingly warned him in the privacy of his study when he agreed to join them, ”no matter how they prose on about every tiny, meaningless expenditure-which they will-promise me you won't point out to them that you could build six hospitals with less effort and time.”

”Could I do that?” he asked, grinning. ”Absolutely!” She sighed. ”Between them, they must have half the money in Europe, yet they debate about every s.h.i.+lling to be spent as if it were coming out of their own reticules and likely to send them to debtors' gaol.”

”If they offend your thrifty sensibilities, they must be a rare group,” Ian teased. Elizabeth gave him a distracted smile, but when they neared the drawing room, where the committee was drinking tea in Ian's priceless sevres china cups, she turned to him and added hastily, ”Oh, and don't comment on Lady Wilts.h.i.+re's blue hat. ”

”Why not?” ”Because it's her hair.” ”I wouldn't do such a thing,” he protested, grinning at her.

”Yes, you would!” she whispered, trying to frown and chuckling instead. ”The dowager d.u.c.h.ess told me that, last night, you complimented the furry dog Lady s.h.i.+rley had draped over her arm.”

”Madam, I was following your specific instructions to be nice to the eccentric old harridan. Why shouldn't I have complimented her dog?”

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