Cora (Virtue & Vice #4)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

GIDEON

A lone.

Once they were in Gideon’s carriage making their way across town, the enormity of what he’d done sank in. Trundling along the streets, he felt like he was staring up into glittering spikes of ice aimed straight for his face, with the rumble of a mountain of sliding snow building in his ears. The crash loomed.

For now, they were tucked into his private coach, cocooned in strained silence.

In the back of his mind, Gideon had harbored the peculiar hope that the wedding ceremony would melt Cora’s heart. The introduction to his family had demonstrated that this would not be happening any time soon. Their luncheon had been cordial but cautious, especially with her brothers and sister-in-law present.

At least they had managed to avoid fisticuffs. Small victories.

“Does Reggie live with your parents?” Cora startled him out of his thoughts. He could have tried to make conversation. Gideon hated the way he turned tongue-tied around her. She was so similar to how he remembered her, yet different. He had never truly known her despite spending years creating an image of her in his mind. He thought of her as bright and shining and full of warmth. He couldn’t quite figure out this reserved version of the woman who had possessed his thoughts since the day he set eyes upon her.

“Most of the time. My house is ill-suited to his needs. Too many stairs.”

“He has a lively mind.”

“Does he have any choice in the matter? He is physically confined to the house. He has been forced to learn how to entertain himself.”

His jealousy was out of control. Ordinarily, he was almost as protective of Reggie as his mother, but he would commit crimes for the chance to feel one fraction of the warmth she’d had shown Reggie.

Cora’s elegant chin dipped in silent agreement. Her white-wrapped body swayed slightly with the movement of the carriage, which felt too small and cramped to contain the two of them. He’d already managed to soil the hem of her cloak by stepping on it.

He should be charming. Gideon never had difficulty speaking to other women. Conversation with Society ladies was simple: either they were married, and appreciated a little flirtatious banter, or they were debutantes and to be handled like delicate porcelain dolls. With courtesans, he could speak bluntly. If they didn’t like his manners they could seek out better company.

“Speaking of houses, what should I expect of yours?” she asked.

“It is large.” He shrugged. “Furnished according to my tastes.”

A faint smile quirked up the corner of Cora’s lush mouth at his response. Gideon shifted, thinking about that mouth. How it tasted. What it would feel like upon his?—

“Like a bachelor’s home, I imagine.” A sardonic note crept into her tone, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Lots of dark wood and darker leather. Not a splash of color anywhere.”

The truth of her words stung, though it shouldn’t. Gideon was too busy to care about frivolities like furniture, and he wasn’t exactly going to surround himself with spindly settees covered in pastel chintz. The mere idea caused a shudder. He prayed her tastes didn’t lean that direction.

He knew so much and yet so little about his new wife.

“I suppose you are familiar with bachelor’s quarters,” he said a little too acidly.

“I have some experience with them, yes,” she replied neutrally, though a spark of emotion flashed over her features before she consciously smoothed it away. “With redecorating, as well.”

“You shall have a reasonable budget to make changes as you see fit.” He shifted. “Try not to make my house overly feminine.”

Cora stared at him. If she was angry, she concealed it well. Was this disbelief or something else?

He couldn’t figure her out. The innocent debutante who smiled too much and laughed at everyone’s jokes, even when they were directed toward her and her brother, was gone. She was no longer desperate to be liked. He wasn’t certain how he felt about this new, grown-up version of the woman.

“Fortunately, your bachelor’s aesthetic is safe for the time being. I have had my fill of renovation projects.”

Right. Her brother’s house was undergoing substantial updates. That was why she’d been living with her half-brother, and why he had been unable to use it as collateral for his bank. Gideon had gotten lucky with that timing.

“Furthermore, it is an open question whether I will be staying,” she added.

“The matter is settled.” Gideon grunted. She was his. He went out first, then handed her down. Their gloves met, solid beneath layers of leather, and heat flared through him. Cora inclined her chin and swept regally up the stairs into his mansion.

Gideon hastened after her.

* * *

Cora

Cora felt so ridiculous in her extravagant white gown that she almost protested when a footman reached for her cloak. She handed it over reluctantly and missed its soft warmth. Despite the gown’s long sleeves, she felt as exposed as if she had stripped down to bare skin, and shivered.

She had been unable to stop thinking about their wedding night ever since Mrs. Wentworth’s insistence upon babies.

Guilt roiled her.

Why? She hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet there it was, a boulder she couldn’t dislodge from the vicinity of her stomach no matter how often she told herself that it was her body and she had the right to be with whomever she wanted. Gideon had undoubtedly entertained his share of paramours over the years. A wealthy, objectively handsome man, with those broad shoulders? He must have been beating off widows and courtesans with a stick.

She wasn’t envious. After all, she had what women truly coveted: his name. She was Cora Wentworth now, with all the status that came with it.

“This is Mr. Faux.” Her husband took her by the elbow, gingerly, as though she was made of delicate porcelain. Or, perhaps more accurately, like she was a dangerous wild animal to be handled with great care lest she lash out.

“Spelled like the French for ‘false,’ but pronounced ‘fox’,” the manservant informed her. “And this is Mrs. Lawton, the housekeeper.”

“I lay down the law,” she said cheerfully. The woman’s pinched features tightened. “What is this? A rat?”

“My dog, Titania.”

Until now, Titi had been a very good girl indeed. She had waited patiently with Miss Marnie for the ceremony and luncheon to be over, and had stayed quiet in her basket during the drive. Presented with the opportunity to make new friends, she leaped out and began sniffing the staff.

“It’s not going to…live here, is it?” Mrs. Lawton asked worriedly.

“According to our wedding contract, I may have as many companion animals as I choose,” Cora informed her, then softened. Not everyone liked dogs, even small ones. Titi didn’t understand that, but she did.

The housekeeper turned to Gideon with a beseeching expression.

“The dog stays,” he said firmly. “But it may be confined to Mrs. Wentworth’s rooms.”

“Let’s get you settled, shall we?” Mr. Faux interjected. “I understand you only brought one maid and two trunks?”

“I do not require much to be comfortable,” Cora answered. She was too trussed in silk and lace to bend properly, so she had to wait for her maid to collect Titi and her basket.

“No trousseau?” Mrs. Lawton frowned.

“The duke informed me that you have no gowns suitable for a lady of your station,” said Gideon. “I have arranged for the modiste who fashioned your wedding gown to create a complete wardrobe for you, posthaste. She already has your measurements.”

Cora turned to Gideon, her mouth open in an O of mixed surprise and outrage.

“What if I don’t want new clothes?” She didn’t mind having new things, but him ordering an entire wardrobe without consulting her felt like being ordered to become someone she was not. Stuffed into a costume and told to perform a role she’d already failed at once—just like this morning.

Her pride was fighting tooth and nail against the idea of being molded into the woman he considered worthy. Why not choose a different woman, rather than attempt to mold her into someone else?

Gideon bent close, and again, she was forced to fight the urge to bury her face in the crook of his neck. Money could buy anything, including the kind of shaving soap that made women weak at the knees.

“We shall discuss this in private, not in front of my servants.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Lead the way.”

She had a number of things she wished to say to him once they were alone.