A Proper Lord’s Wife (Properly Spanked Legacy #2) Read Online Annabel Joseph

Categories Genre: Erotic, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Properly Spanked Legacy Series by Annabel Joseph
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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He only said it to lighten the mood, but saw they were both considering it. Pearl’s highly skilled courtesans were up for anything when it came to erotic discipline. He would miss his visits there. Probably. He wasn’t sure. He felt numb and confused, surrounded by the celebrating families and all the flowers.

“We might go,” said Marlow, raising a brow. “What about you, old man? Heading to Somerton this afternoon?”

“Indeed. Jane’s things have already been moved there, and she’s excited to see it.”

“I have so many happy memories of Somerton,” said August, and Townsend wasn’t sure if he was pining for Felicity and the togetherness of their childhood, or remembering the bachelor parties that came later, that had sometimes stretched on for more than two weeks. For God’s sake, he’d had a long and enjoyable bachelorhood. Getting married wasn’t the end of the world. He only wished he might have married Ophelia.

That was why today had been so difficult, because he’d imagined a wedding with Ophelia, who was elegant, polished, talented, the most perfect of women. Guilt churned in his stomach as Jane turned to seek him out in the thinning company.

“You’ll come to love her,” said August, ever the romantic. “I’m sure you have much more in common than is obvious right now.”

“Yes, and even if you don’t become the best of lovers, you’ll have her to look after your gardens and woodland creatures,” added Marlow with a smirk.

His jests were growing tedious. “If I have my way, the only creature she’ll be attending to from this point forward is me.”

“May she do it well,” he replied, then sobered. “Honestly, congratulations. August is right, you don’t always get to marry who you want.” His gaze darted toward Rosalind, then away. “But you can make the most of things as they are. Lady Townsend seems very fine today, without a hint of dirt about her wedding gown’s hem. Do keep in touch with us and let us know how your situation is going in a week or two.”

He nodded to his friends, then smiled at his mother as she came to take his hands.

“My darling,” she said, “you must go to your bride. It’s not good to spend the entire reception apart from each other.”

“Didn’t you and father—”

“Don’t bring up our wedding, not today of all days.” She grimaced, then took his arm. “Jane is going to love you once she knows you as we do, darling. Your father and I are so proud of you today, we truly are. We’re pleased to see you married so well.”

She meant they were pleased he’d seen this through.

“Give your bride as much love as you can,” she continued, tears shining in her eyes. “Never let her question that you care for her.”

“Of course, mama. Everything will be fine.”

He patted her hand, took leave of his friends, and made his way across the ballroom to Jane’s side. She stood with a group of Mayhew cousins, none of whom he knew. She greeted him with a smile, a pure, welcoming smile that sparked conflicting emotions within him. Guilt, possessiveness, pride. Confusion that she would like him so much when they barely knew one another. Never let her question that you care for her, his mother had said.

“How lovely it is that we’re finally married,” he whispered in her ear, so no one else could hear it. He would care for her, of course. He’d be a cad otherwise.

Love? That might take a while longer, if it happened between them at all.

*

Jane sat up straighter on the carriage seat, looking out the window to watch her new husband riding alongside. He certainly had a handsome stallion, large and dark like him.

Goodness, Townsend was large, wasn’t he? She hadn’t noticed until he was close to her, very close to her, how much he towered over her. At the wedding, when she placed her hand in his, it was almost comical how much larger his was. It was the difference between a dove’s claw and an eagle’s talons, as she stood there in her pale dove-gray gown, and he in black wool and cream like a bird of prey.

For some reason, she feared he would ride ahead and leave them behind. Leave her behind. He’d been a little too pleased there was no room for him in the carriage, after the last of her things had been loaded into the traveling compartment.

Well, he was still there. He hadn’t flown off yet. No, for they were to spend tonight together at an inn, and then arrive at Somerton tomorrow. Would she have her own room at the inn? She wasn’t sure and had been afraid to ask. Either tonight or tomorrow night would be their wedding night when he’d come to bed with her. She’d insisted to her mother and sister that she needed no education on that account, that she knew all there was to know of mating from her animal studies. Her mother had said, “Jane, really!” Her sister had smiled and laughed and said she would certainly be fine if she left the hard work to her husband.


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