Page 97 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"Then we'll be ready."

He studied her—his brave, stubborn, occasionally infuriating wife. Three months of marriage had only made him love her more, which he hadn't thought possible. Every morning he woke beside her still felt like a miracle, every night a gift he probably didn't deserve.

"Fine," he said. "But if she so much as looks at you wrong..."

"You'll glower magnificently and possibly push her into something?"

"I was thinking the lake, actually. Full circle."

"There's no lake here."

"There's a decorative pond."

"That's full of ornamental carp."

"Even better. She can make friends."

Arabella laughed, then immediately looked queasy again. "Oh, don't make me laugh when I'm nauseous."

"Back to the bathroom?"

"No. Maybe. Yes."

He looked at her, worried despite his attempts at lightness. This was more than travel sickness or nerves. But pressing her would only make her stubborn, so he waited, patient as he'd learned to be with her.

Jane arrived to help Arabella dress for the morning ride, making comments about her pallor but managing to make her presentable in a deep green riding habit that brought out the gold flecks in her eyes.

"You're staring," Arabella observed as Jane pinned up her hair.

"I'm admiring," Lucien replied.

"You're worried."

"I can be both."

"I'm fine, Lucien. Truly."

But she swayed slightly as she stood, and he was at her side instantly, steadying her.

"We're staying in today."

"We're not."

"Arabella..."

"I'm going on this ride even if it kills me."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Don't be dramatic."

"I'm never dramatic. I'm appropriately concerned."

"You're overprotective."

"That too."

They made their way downstairs, where the guests were gathering for the morning's activities. The Duchess of Marlborough, a formidable woman who'd somehow forgiven Thistle for the slipper incident, greeted them warmly.