With This Kiss by Victoria Lynne

elude us completely, but I would like to try nevertheless.”
    He regarded her in silence, impressed despite himself. Had she defied him entirely, he might very well have forced the issue, seducing her that very night despite her resistance. Instead, Julia had made the astonishing argument that refusing him was for their mutual good. All in all, it was not a bad argument. He cringed as he thought of his own approach — entering her bedchamber slightly drunk, grimly determined, and profoundly inept. In retrospect he felt like a boorish oaf. He knew better. But years had passed since he had courted a woman, and the thought that there might be anything between them had simply not occurred to him. Now that she had presented her position, appealing to his sense of honor and chivalry, it would be exceedingly difficult for him to refuse her.
    “Nicely done,” he said. “It occurs to me that I have taken a bride who is entirely too shrewd. Remind me never to sit opposite you at a negotiating table.”
    A look of cautious pride showed on her face — a look he immediately eradicated by saying, “Very well, you shall have three months’ reprieve. At the end of which time I expect you to have developed enough warm feelings toward me that we may — how did you put it? — commence the intimate work of creating an heir. Does that satisfy you?”
    A look of prim disapproval curved her lips. “I am not under the impression that it is supposed to.”
    True, but that wasn’t the point. “I want your word,” he said sternly. “Three months and no more. At the end of which time I will expect you to uphold your end of the bargain and assume your wifely duties. Are we in agreement?”
    “Yes,” she said stiffly, “We are in agreement.” She turned away, focusing her gaze on the gardens below. As she did, a strand of fiery hair slipped out from beneath her ridiculous cap to curl softly against her temple. Morning sunlight streamed in around her, revealing the shadowy outline of her body through the drab brown linen. As she lifted her hand to trace one finger along the sparkling glass pane, her bosom strained against the pleated bodice of her gown. The sight, and the unexpected pleasure it brought him, made Morgan wonder if perhaps she had received the better end of their bargain. In that instant three months seemed a very long time to wait to claim his bride.
    He shifted slightly, impatiently banishing the thought. Aloud he said, “Very good. Now that that issue has been dispensed with, let us move on to the matter of your absurd attire. I assume there is an explanation?”
    Julia seemed as relieved as he was to drop the intimate topic and move on. “I mentioned that I am in the habit of talking to servants in order to procure the various tidbits of gossip I use in my weekly column. Naturally, if I wish to be spoken to freely, I can’t appear as a lady who might carry their stories back to their employer.”
    “Hence the mobcap and stained apron.”
    “Yes. A rather dreary disguise but effective nonetheless. I’ve yet to be taken for anything but a common housemaid.”
    “So you intend to continue that ridiculous column.” She looked startled at the suggestion that he might think otherwise.
    “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
    He shrugged. “You no longer need the income.”
    “My motivation in writing the column was never financial. It’s the moral satisfaction I receive in exposing society’s ills that makes me continue.”
    A slight frown touched Morgan’s lips as he considered her words. From what he had seen of her work, it was composed of scandalous gossip and very little else. Writing “The Tattler” might amuse her, but the pastime was one he considered eminently unsuitable for his wife. Testing her reaction, he said, “And if I were to recommend that you discontinue the column, it being an inappropriate occupation given your new station as Viscountess Barlowe?”
    “I would recommend you not do such a