Truce (Neighbor from Hell)
Page 18
“Ow! What the hell was that for?” he demanded with a pout as he yanked his hand back.
“Stop stealing the ham!” she snapped, gesturing with the wooden spoon she’d just lightly rapped against his knuckles in warning.
“This isn’t making me hate you any less!” he snapped back, doing his best to glare down at her, but the way his gaze kept dropping back down to the ham as he licked his lips hungrily had her smiling and reaching for a small plate.
“Here,” she said, scooping some ham onto the plate. She’d barely moved to hand it over to him when she suddenly found the plate ripped from her hand and Robert devouring the ham.
“Your appetite is frightening,” she said with an exasperated sigh even though it secretly pleased her that he wasn’t furious by the fact that she enjoyed cooking.
His only response was a glare as he continued to eat his ham. When he was finished, he sent a hopeful look at the pan, but one gesture with the spoon had him placing his empty plate back on the counter.
“Now, what exactly does the orangery have to do with this truce of yours?” she asked, hoping to distract him from the ham so that there would be some left for her dinner.
She was starving, more like ravenous at this point. She honestly couldn’t remember ever being this hungry before. Even the few times she’d been too sick to leave her bed and had been forced to survive on broth and tea for a month hadn’t left her this hungry. She could probably eat all the ham, she thought with a groan when she was forced to slap Robert’s hand away again.
“Vicious minx!”
“Stop stealing the ham!”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d feed me!” he snapped back as he rubbed the back of his hand.
“I’m not going to feed you until you explain this truce of yours,” she said, hoping that it would be enough to slow down his thieving ways until she could finish cooking the food.
“Fine!” he said as he deftly snatched another piece of ham out of the pan and popped it into his mouth before she could slap it out of his hand with the spoon.
“Get on with it, Robert,” she said, pouring the egg batter into the pan, hoping that it would be enough to deter him from stealing any more ham for a while.
It didn’t.
He leaned back against the wall, getting more comfortable as he popped the egg-covered piece of ham into his mouth. “You didn’t hate me that night in the orangery.”
“I didn’t know who you were,” she pointed out, stirring the ham and eggs while she kept an eye out for his devious hand.
“Ow!” he hissed, but this time he was smart enough to pull his hand back and continue making his argument for a truce. “Exactly my point. You didn’t know that I was the little boy who used to make your life a living hell and you liked the man that I’d become,” he said, his tone daring her to lie when they both knew that she’d more than liked him that night.
“That’s true,” she admitted, because really, there was no point in lying at this point. It certainly wouldn’t help matters.
“The only reason we’ve been at each other’s throats over the past couple of months is because of our previous history,” he explained and she was very tempted to add that she’d also done it because it was fun.
“You might have a point, Robert,” she said instead, adding cheese to the eggs and ham and mixing it for a minute before she removed the pan from the heat and set it aside. Shooting a warning glare at Robert, she walked over to the ovens and removed the now golden brown biscuits and placed them on the counter to cool.
“It proves that we’re capable of putting the past behind us,” Robert said, surprising her when he grabbed a couple of plates, forks, jams, honey and set it on the table instead of stealing more food.
When he picked the plates back up, she became nervous. She was starving and in no mood to fight with Robert for over food. She just wanted-
“Here you are, minx,” he said with a smile as he placed a plate overflowing with food on the table in front of her.
Touched that Robert would willingly give up food, she sat down with a smile and started to eat. She nearly moaned when the food hit her tongue. It tasted like heaven, pure heaven, and she couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t until Robert picked up her plate that she realized that she’d eaten every single morsel of food in a matter of minutes.
“You like peach jam, right?” Robert asked as he placed a second plate overflowing with food in front of her, startling her.
“Yes,” she automatically said as she looked down at the plate of food, realizing that she was still hungry.
When Robert placed three jam-smothered biscuits by her plate, she grabbed one up and devoured it, only pausing long enough to send him a glare when he had the nerve to chuckle.
“Sorry,” he said, sitting down across from her and bringing her attention to the fact that he wasn’t eating.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, reaching for another biscuit.
“I want to make sure that you get enough to eat,” he said, gesturing for her to continue and making her heart skip a beat.
Robert Bradford was willingly parting with food. Either the world was coming to an end or he was serious about making a fresh start.
Chapter 26
“Don’t be silly, Robert,” Elizabeth said with a huff as she stood up and headed for the stove. “There’s plenty of food for both us.”
He shook his head. “Just eat, minx. I’m fine,” he somewhat lied.
Although he was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to die, he was starving. The food was simple, but it smelled delicious. The rich aroma of eggs, ham and cheese accompanied by the hearty scents of freshly baked biscuits had his stomach rumbling, but it wasn’t enough to make him steal Elizabeth’s abandoned plate and devour her food.
His wife was obviously hungry and he refused to take any food from her. It pleased him to see her eating, because it meant that she was feeling better. He’d lost count of how many times he’d prayed that she would be okay over the last few weeks. The threat of losing her had hit him harder than he would have liked and it made him realize just how much she meant to him.
Suddenly all the bullshit they’d put each other through over the years no longer mattered, not if it meant that he would lose her. He couldn’t imagine a life without his minx in it, aggravating him, teasing him and making him feel alive for the first time in years. The fact that she’d lied about their baby no longer mattered either.
He wished that he’d handled things differently when he’d found out about the baby. He should have kept the matter between them and done everything that he could have to gain her trust. He should have courted her and done everything in his power to make sure that she chose to marry him. He hated knowing that the only reason that she’d married him was because he’d forced her. He’d do anything to change that.
But, there was no going back. There was no changing what happened. There was no stopping the gossip that had already spread. The damage was done. The only thing that he could do was to offer her the marriage that she deserved and the one that he craved. He wanted her to be his wife freely and have no regrets.
He wanted her to love him as much as he loved her.
So he was going to court his own wife. He was going to convince her to give him a chance, to let him show her that he was the right choice. She’d lost a fortune when she’d married him and, although he would never be able to provide her with the luxuries that she’d lost, he wanted to make sure that she was so damn happy that none of that mattered.
“There’s plenty of food, Robert,” Elizabeth said as she placed a plate filled with food in front of him. Before he could argue, she was spreading biscuits with a variety of toppings and placing them by his plate.
“Don’t worry about me, minx. I’m fine,” he said, forcing himself not to look down at the food out of fear that he’d lose control.
“We can eat while you further explain this truce of yours,” Elizabeth pointed out and when he open
ed his mouth to argue, she shoved the most delicious biscuit that he’d ever tasted in his mouth.
“Oh, God,” he mumbled in ecstasy as he finished off the biscuit and grabbed another.
“Do you like it?” Elizabeth asked, her tone casual, but he could tell that she was pleased.
“You weren’t lying,” he said, finishing off the last biscuit that she’d given him and grabbing three more. He quickly slathered peach jam on them and placed two of the biscuits by her plate.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a small bite out of one of the biscuits before placing it back down by her plate. “Now, about this truce.”
“Right,” he nodded, taking one more bite of that delicious biscuit before placing it back down by his plate and forcing himself to focus.
“I’d be willing to let the past go if you are,” Elizabeth said, bringing them back where they’d left off.
“I think that’s the best way to start this,” he said, looking across the table at her beautiful face. “I’d like us to start off as friends.”
“I’d like that, too,” she said softly, giving him a small smile that gave him hope. “What else?” she asked, sounding eager to fix this situation between them.
“No more fighting,” he restated his earlier declaration so that she at least knew that he was done with making her life a living hell. “And no more secrets,” he added, before he considered how it might sound.
She flinched as if he’d struck her, but instead of getting upset or making excuses for what she’d done, she nodded in agreement. “No more secrets.”
He nodded as he debated on the best way to continue. After a moment, he realized that he was actually nervous. He didn’t want to make a mess of this. To buy himself a little more time, he picked up his fork and dug into the eggs and nearly groaned with pleasure.
It was so damn good. His wife was an excellent cook and for that alone he thought himself a lucky man. He didn’t give a damn that she wasn’t supposed to know how to cook. A man with his appetite would be foolish to look down his nose at anyone with this level of skill in the kitchen.
“The first thing that we should clear up,” he said, pausing only long enough to take another bite, “is that you can cook whenever you’d like, whatever you’d like.”
“Thank you,” she said, sounding genuinely pleased.
He took a few more bites and decided that perhaps they should get to the basics of their marriage. “We should probably discuss your pin money and such.”
“I thought we’d already discussed that,” she said with a shrug. “Besides, I don’t have a dowry.”
“You don’t need one. I’ll take care of you,” he said, because he would. He might not be a rich man, but he could afford to keep his wife happy, at least he hoped that he could.
She looked like she was about to argue, but instead nodded. “Thank you, Robert.”
“You’re welcome, minx,” he said, finishing off his food.
“Where do you expect us to reside?” she asked with a touch of hesitation.
He cleared his throat nervously. He wasn’t exactly sure how to approach the subject, but he knew that he could no longer put it off, not since he’d announced barely ten minutes ago that there wouldn’t be any more secrets.
“I sold the estate that I bought a few months ago,” he said, deciding to break the news to her as easily as possible. He hoped that she took the news well and didn’t refuse to leave with him, because he’d really hate to resort to kidnapping his own wife since he refused to live without her.
“The one that our parents have been talking about?” she asked, sounding confused, but not terribly upset, at least not yet.
“Yes,” he answered slowly before adding, “I’ve bought a new estate in the country.”
“I don’t much care for London,” she said with a shrug, taking him by surprise and reminding him of their conversation that night in the orangery. “Where in the country is it?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Bridgewater,” he said, trying not to cringe as he waited for her response.
She started to nod only to pause with a frown. “I’ve never heard of it before. Is it up North?”
“You could say that,” he said, shifting nervously on the bench.
“How long will it take to travel there?”
“About six weeks,” he admitted with a grimace.
“We’re staying for another six weeks?” she asked, appearing confused and for good reason.
Thanks to their hasty marriage and the scandal that had accompanied it, the majority of the ton had already cut them off. Invitations that had been extended to both of them weeks ago were now being rescinded. They’d had no visitors or notes congratulating them on their marriage or anyone wishing Elizabeth a quick recovery. Their parents were surviving the scandal, but just barely.
From what he’d heard, his mother had been given the cut direct by Lady Penelope yesterday in a ribbon shop and it probably wouldn’t be too much longer until that happened again. The longer they stayed, the worse it would get for their families and neither one of them wanted that. It would be best if they left as soon as possible. He was just waiting until he was assured that Elizabeth was able to travel.
“No, we’re not staying for six weeks. Perhaps another week or two,” he said, hoping that it would be quite a bit sooner than that, but he wasn’t going to rush her until she was well enough for the trip.
“I don’t understand,” she finally admitted.
“I bought a home in Bridgewater, Massachusetts. We’re moving to America, minx,” he said, preparing himself for a fight since even his mother would have taken issue with that announcement.
“America?” she repeated slowly as though she were testing out the word.
“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, wondering what he should say to convince her that this was for the best.
“Really?” she asked after a moment, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Yes.”
When her lips turned up into a pleased smile, he felt himself relax. “I’ve always wanted to visit America,” she admitted, appearing excited.
“We won’t be able to travel back here too often,” he admitted, realizing that she at least deserved to know the truth of the matter. He had money, but he wasn’t rich enough to afford a trip to England too often. It actually made him feel horrible when he realized that he was taking her away from her family and everything that she knew.
She merely shrugged. “Our families are well off enough that they can come visit us.”
“You’re not upset?” he asked, more than a little surprised.
“Why would I be? You know how I feel about London and, if we’re going to try to start fresh, what better way then to start over somewhere new?”
“You’re a remarkable woman, Elizabeth,” he said with a wink.
“Now,” she said, pretending that she wasn’t pleased by his words, but he could tell by the way that she did her best to bite back a smile that she appreciated the compliment, “what else do you have in mind for this truce of yours?”
When she placed her fork down on the table and pushed the rest of her food towards him, he didn’t hesitate. He picked up his fork and made quick work of finishing off her meal. Once he was sure that no crumb had escaped his notice he pushed on.
“There will be no separate bedrooms,” he announced, deciding that it was only right to let her know that she was expected to warm his bed for the rest of their lives.
“Agreed,” she said with a firm nod as though she would accept nothing less, which explained her next announcement. “And no other women.”
He had to bite back a smile. Leave it to his minx. No other woman would dare set down such a proclamation to her husband, especially when she’d brought nothing into the marriage and relied solely on his generosity, but then again, Elizabeth wasn’t like other women.
“Don’t want to share me?” he couldn’t help but tease.
“N
ot unless you want to share me,” she shot back, sounding smug as her words hit home and erased every last ounce of humor that he’d been feeling.
“If any other man so much as looks your way, minx, I will-”
“So, we’re agreed that we’ll be faithful to each other,” she said, cutting him off and dismissing his murderous rage with a careless flick of her hand. “What else?”
He couldn’t help but frown at that as he stole the last biscuit. “That’s actually all I have for now,” he admitted with a shrug.
She sighed softly as she stood up, picking up their plates before heading to the counter. “Well, at the very least it should be enough to keep us from killing each other.”
“Probably,” he mused as he finished off the last bite of his biscuit and moved to help his wife. If he couldn’t make her fall in love with him, at least she probably wouldn’t kill him in his sleep.
Chapter 27
Dear God, it was still poking her!
Sometime ago she’d woken up to discover that something rather hard was poking her in the side. Not thinking much of it at the time, she’d shifted onto her side, facing away from Robert and started to drift off when Robert pulled her back against him and that hard thing shifted until it was poking her in the bottom.
It wasn’t until she’d tried to move away from it that Robert’s sleepy moan clued her into the identity of the hard object pressing firmly against her bottom. Once she’d realized exactly what she was dealing with, she had a difficult time thinking about anything else.
Should she move?
Perhaps she should wake him up so that he could point that thing in another direction?
It was probably better if she didn’t wake him, she decided, as she tried to shift her bottom forward so that his manhood was no longer pushing her cotton nightgown where it had no business. She moved quickly, shifting forward and then pushing back. She nearly sighed in relief when his manhood ceased its poking and instead lay flush between their bodies with her rumpled nightgown providing a barrier.