Page 33 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

Motherhood? He stood stock still on the pavement for a moment, breathing in and out of his nostrils as his thoughts raced. But that would mean … consummating their marriage, he thought slowly. He had not actually intended to do that, had he? Or had he?

After all, he pondered, why else had he booked the night in a premier hotel at an exorbitant cost? He certainly had not intended to sleep on a couch for the second night. Had he thought they would sleep side by side on their wedding night with nothing more than a polite peck on the cheek exchanged between them?

Maybe, just maybe, he had not wanted to look at his motivation too closely at the time of booking the suite. And maybe Dora expected a good ravishing, that was his reputation after all. The notion, though it pleased him, was not exactly convincing. Even his mildest flirtation threw her into a spin. As for Dora, she had been so focused on their goal of getting married, that he doubted very much that she had given much thought to what logically followed their vows.

In truth, he had shied away from discussing post-ceremony plans with her in any detail. He suspected she would balk at his intention to brazenly move in with her family the following day, but she had informed him herself that the property was not her brother’s and, in fact, belonged jointly, to all three of the Fields siblings. As such, the newlywed couple had every right to turn up there in a day’s time and take up residence.

There would be some initial awkwardness, no doubt, for Dora. As for himself, Clem knew himself to be entirely shameless. He would not cavil at the idea of putting Felix Fields’ nose out of joint, or that milksop Allsop. In fact, he would probably relish in it.

That put a spring in his step if nothing else, along with the realization that he need be in no hurry to unmask before Dora. As for the seduction … he would play it by ear, he decided. Strangely cheered, he sped up, eager to arrive at the church on time.

By this point, he had reached St Thomas’ and recognized Dora hovering by the gate looking both cold and pinched as she clutched at the railing and peered anxiously into the fog for him. To his surprise, he felt an almost overwhelming relief at finding she had not suddenly come to her senses and evaded him. Dora’s fate was sealed. She was his. He could not stop the satisfied smile that curved his lips as he collected her and led her up the path to the church.

*

Clem felt surprisingly relaxed as they exited the church, Dora clinging tightly to his arm. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and he could tell she was both exhilarated and terrified at what they had done.

“What now?” she asked in hushed tones. “I confess I had not actually dared to think of anything past the ceremony itself. I suppose we need to confront our families …” She blanched slightly at her own words.

Clem grinned down at her. “I thought it would be best if we spent tonight at a hotel. Then you can take me home with you tomorrow.”

“To a hotel?” she squeaked, letting go of his arm and coming to a halt. “But what will everyone think when I do not return home?” she asked.

“Do you care?” he asked smoothly. “After the way they have treated you?”

That made her pause for thought. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Well, but I-I should not wish them to start dragging the rivers for me,” she joked feebly.

He reached out and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Have you really been as unhappy as all that, Dora?” he asked softly.

She stared up at him a moment, frozen into place, then color flooded her cheeks. “No, of c-course not,” she stammered and gave an awkward laugh, finally able to look away. “Not when I knew we had our plan in place,” she said bracingly, “though until that point, I do confess I felt rather wretched. As you know, I am not at all suited to the role of housekeeper.”

Clem drew her hand back through his arm and felt the slight tremble in her fingers. She was full of nerves, and he should be soothing, not scaring the living daylights out of her. “We need to spend the night together to ensure our marriage is legal and not contested,” he said carefully instead.

Her eyes widened and he saw words trembling on her lips that she could not quite form. This was the point where he should reassure her that he did not expect her to fulfill all her wifely obligations. Except, the words did not come, as he had now realized this was no longer true and he had every intention of bedding her.

He was still not entirely sure when exactly he had decided that. They walked arm in arm along the Old Harlow Road, both deep in their own thoughts. Maybe it was since that day they had taken cocktails together. Nay, maybe before that even.

Since the chop house most likely, when she had taken such delight in her Sunday lunch. He liked putting that dazed and gratified expression on her face. More than liked it, he found he cravedit. He wanted to see her look at him, with that self-same expression when he showed her pleasures of a more … carnal nature.

The thought made his heart race, and he faced a few astonishing facts in quick succession. One, that the thought of seducing Dora excited him. Two, the fact that it would likely mess up his brilliant coup of The Parthenondid not put him off one bit. Somewhere down the line, he suspected he would pay dearly, but even as he considered the possibility of future regret, he could not dissuade himself from indulging in Dora’s sweet body this night.

The thought almost jolted him out of his reverie. Her sweet body? When the hell had he started thinking of gangly and awkward Theodora Fields that way? He cast a quick glance at her face and found her regarding him nervously. He gave her his slow smile. “You’re as jumpy as a little rabbit,” he teased. “Do I need to keep a tight grip on you in case you try and give me the slip?”

“I daresay, though no one has ever thought me little,” she said with another short laugh. “I’m exceedingly tall for a woman.”

“Not compared to me,” he said dismissively.

She glanced at their reflection in a passing window. “Yes, I suppose that is true. We do look in proportion, do we not, Mr. Dabney?”

He smirked. “We do indeed, Mrs. Dabney.”

She gave another gasp of weak laughter, and he resolved not to tease her for the next hour at least. It was not really fair to make sport of her. She just wasn’t equipped to deal with the likes of him.

“Is the hotel you booked near here?” she asked. Then her face fell, and she covered her mouth.

“What is it?”

“I did not book an overnight case!” she said, clearly dismayed. “I did not realize—”