Pride and Fire by Jomarie Degioia Page A

ink on them as mine.”
    He bristled. He couldn’t tell her about his government work. She’d surely wonder why a titled gentleman would need to toil like a commoner. “I, um, worked on some correspondence this morning. The ink well was a bit unsteady, I’m afraid.”
    Michelle’s brows drew together in puzzlement. Before she could press him further her mother finally joined them. A reprieve, he thought with a touch of guilt.
    Lady Helen launched into a recitation of the names of the guests invited to the wedding reception, at which Paul simply nodded his approval. He noticed Michelle stiffen at the mention of her cousin Reginald. Her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched as she positively seethed. What did he know about Reginald Thomas? He had a vague recollection of a dandy, someone who spouted opinions not necessarily his own. He’d ask her about him the next time he had her alone.
    Any thought of Michelle’s cousin left his mind as she walked him to the front door. She smiled up at him sweetly and stood up on tiptoe, giving him a peck on the cheek. She drew back with a look of satisfaction on her face. Quite pleased with herself, then.
    He flashed her a wicked grin. “That was entirely too brief.”
    Michelle gasped as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly. She tasted like tea and honey and sweet woman. When he lifted his head, he was pleased to see the bemusement on her face.
    “Until this evening, love,” he whispered as he took his leave.
    As he stood outside on the steps, he realized he’d forgotten to ask about her cousin. That was no small wonder. Whenever she turned those beautiful golden-brown eyes on him, he could think of little but kissing her breathless. Whistling, he climbed aboard his carriage and went home.
    Michelle watched Paul go, leaning against the door jamb for support. She sighed, her heart still racing. Her mother breezed past her.
    “Do close the door, Michelle,” she said.
    Michelle’s cheeks flamed. She closed the door, shaking her head. Lord, Paul could make her lose her mind with one kiss. Humming to herself, she followed her mother into the parlor.
     
    * * * *
     
    The next few days passed with speed, filled with last minute preparations. The wedding day dawned clear and bright. As was Lady Helen’s very recent custom, she threw open the door to Michelle’s room.
    “Up, dear!” she called.
    Michelle groaned as she struggled to a sitting position. “Mother, I wish you’d cease this infernal morning ritual of yours.”
    “No need to scold me so, dear.” She opened the draperies. “Starting tomorrow, it will be your husband’s duty to wake you in the morning.”
    Michelle blinked at the sunlight streaming through her window as her mother’s words settled on her. “Oh! Paul and I are getting married today!”
    “Yes, dear.”
    As her mother kept up a steady stream of chatter, Michelle rose and attended to her morning toilette. She was washing her face when her mother spoke from the other side of the privacy screen.
    “Dear, I ordered a bath for you,” she advised. “And I have some very special soaps, as well.”
    “Special soaps, Mother?” Michelle wiped the towel over her face and peered from behind the screen. “What are you about?”
    “Tonight is your wedding night, dear,” Lady Helen said. “I thought you’d wish to feel your best.”
    Michelle slowly nodded, unsure of the direction this conversation would take.
    Her mother took Michelle’s hands and led her back to the bed. “Do you have any questions about what will happen tonight?”
    “Happen?” Michelle asked with trepidation.
    “Yes, dear,” her mother answered. “What will happen between you and your husband. On your wedding night.”
    Michelle blushed hotly at what her mother was intimating. “I can’t talk to you about this, Mother!”
    Lady Helen patted her hand. “It’s all right to be nervous, Michelle. Trust your husband to guide you.”
    Michelle dropped her gaze.