The entire arrangement still surprised Sebastian. He’d merely been trying to provoke her when he’d asked to share her bed. He’d expected her to balk at his outlandish request. She did so like to argue. Frankly, the request had flown from his lips before he’d had much of a chance to consider it. Of course, he needed an heir, but the way he’d nearly leered at her when he’d requested her participation in bed was bad form. He blamed her nearness, the alluring lily scent of her perfume, and the fact that he hadn’t had a woman in over two years. But instead of balking, she’d agreed rather readily. And he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret his request.

After accepting his terms, Veronica had insisted on spending the night at her brother’s town house. Apparently, her mother was there as well. Then Veronica had hurried back to Essex. Sebastian had promised to fetch her this morning and escort her to Kent so they would arrive to the holiday celebration together, a sign of solidarity and their first pretense of being a happily wedded pair. So far, however, the ride had been anything but happy. They were nearly at Whitmore Manor, and they’d barely said a handful of words to each other. Veronica had kept her nose buried in ladies’ fashion periodicals. A useless thing to do—as far as Sebastian was concerned—for a lady who refused to come to London and be seen in Society.

Meanwhile, Sebastian had been doing his damnedest to ignore…or more correctly, to stop being distracted by her. He’d brought along the ledgers from his solicitor in London and had spent the better part of the journey balancing the damn things on his lap while trying to read them. But he found his gaze drawn again and again to Veronica. She’d always been beautiful. Her looks were one of the many things that had attracted him to her, after all. But there was something else about her now. Something more sharp, more distinguished, that made it difficult for him to tear his gaze from her countenance.

Her fine cheekbones were set below obsidian eyes framed by thick black lashes. She had dark brows and a piercing gaze. The fullest lips that made him want to… He shook his head. He’d nearly forgotten how lovely she was. But the moment she’d stepped inside his bedchamber three nights ago, he’d been reminded immediately. Even with her lustrous hair swept up and hidden beneath a fashionable hat, she’d affected him. He remembered only too well what it felt like to let the long strands filter through his fingers while he rode her, her gasps of pleasure filling the room, her fingernails raking down his back.

Damn. Sebastian shook his head again. Such thoughts were altogether unhelpful. There’d be time enough to think about such things after they were safely in their bedchamber together at Whitmore Manor. And they would share a bedchamber. He’d insisted upon it. Along with their original agreement.