LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘Apparently nothing, or you would not look as you do.’

      One, two, three … She closed her eyes, to stop any chance of tears, and continued her counting. She had known he would say something about her looks eventually. How could he not? But she had hoped, when the time came, it would be as a casual statement of the obvious. Then she would be better prepared, and could agree and laugh the pain away. But he had been so good about not commenting. To have it thrown back in the heat of anger had taken the breath from her and her argument with it.

      She made it all the way to nine and then blurted, ‘If you had a problem with my looks, then you should have thrown the licence on to the fire when we were in Scotland. There is nothing I can do to my appearance to make it a match for yours. No amount of money will turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse.’

      He waited until she was through with her outburst, and then said, ‘Do not turn soft on me, now that I need you to be strong.’ There was no kindness in his voice, but neither did he seem angry. ‘Our initial plan will not work. At least, not while we are in London. And so I am making another, and I expect you to obey me in it. If you do not wish to follow my advice, I will allow Clarissa to return and badger you into your new role as duchess. She is better qualified to teach you how to navigate in society than any other woman I know. But she can be amazingly stubborn and surpassingly cruel. Do you understand?’

      She bit her lip and nodded.

      ‘First, you will not, nor will I allow you in future to, refer to yourself as a sow’s ear, a lost cause, wasted effort, nothing, nobody, or any of the other terms of scorn. Self-pity is your least attractive feature, and not one I wish to see displayed in my home for the duration of our marriage.’

      When she was sure her eyes were dry, she opened them and glared at him.

      ‘Very good. You look quite like a duchess when you are angry with me.’

      She could not tell if he meant to be amusing, but she had no desire to laugh.

      He stared down her body. ‘Is all your clothing like this?’

      She nodded. ‘Practical. Easy to care for.’

      ‘Dull. Ugly. Drab.’

      ‘I put foolish things aside when my father died.’

      ‘And how long ago was that?’

      ‘Two years.’

      ‘Two years,’ he repeated. ‘And you are still dressed in mourning. You are a bride, Penny. And to see you dressed so is an insult to me. It is as though I pulled you from weeping on a grave, and forced you to marry.’

      ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I will wear my old things. I have more than enough gowns in storage, hardly used since my come-out.’

      ‘But they must be …’ he added quickly on his fingers ‘… at least five years old.’

      ‘They are not worn, so I have not needed to replace them.’

      ‘But hardly the first stare of fashion.’

      She laughed bitterly. ‘As if that would matter.’

      He let out a growl of exasperation. ‘You listened to nothing of what I just said. Very well, then. My patience is at an end.’ He seized her by the wrist and threw open the door.

      She pulled her hand away. ‘What do you think you are doing?’

      ‘What someone should have done a long time ago. You are coming with me this instant, Penelope, and you will remedy the sad state of your wardrobe.’

      ‘There is nothing wrong with the clothing I have. It is clean and serviceable.’

      ‘And totally unfitting for the Duchess of Bellston.’

      ‘I never asked to be the Duchess of Bellston, and I fail to see why I should be forced to conform to her needs.’

      It was Adam’s turn to laugh. ‘You are the duchess, whether you planned it or no. When you decided to pull a stranger from the street and marry him, it never occurred to you that there might be complications?’

      She sneered. ‘Of course. I suspected if I was not careful that I would have a husband eager to waste my money on foolishness. I was willing to allow it to such a degree as it did not interfere with my comfort or my studies. And I was right to be concerned, for you have breached both boundaries with this request.’

      As she watched, her husband became the duke to her again, drawing in his power in a way that was both intriguing and intimidating. His voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. ‘Well, then. I am glad I have fulfilled your worst fears. We must set something straight, if we are to live in harmony.’

      He meant to dictate to her? Reason fled her mind, and was replaced with white-hot rage. He had no right to do this, no right to tell her who she must be, if she was to be his wife at all. One, two, three …

      ‘The wardrobe I am suggesting is in no way wasteful. Think of it as a uniform, nothing more. You wish to be left in peace? Then you will find it easier to deflect notice if you can play the part of a duchess with reasonable facility. The clothing I am suggesting will make this easier and not more difficult.’

       Four, five, six …

      ‘It will be expensive, but I have seen the statements from your bank, and you can most certainly afford it. If it helps, think of it as no different than you would allow me to purchase for my mistress. You had allotted an expense of this amount, hoping to keep me occupied so that you could work. Think for a moment the level of stubbornness and bullheadedness that you must project if you allow me to spend the money, but will only berate me for it if I wish to spend it on you.’

       Seven, eight, nine …

      ‘I take your silence for assent.’ He rang for a servant and ordered the carriage brought round. ‘I will deposit you at a modiste, and you can work out, between you, what is best done. I care not for the details, as long as the project is completed.’

      Ten. And still she could not find a hole in his argument.

      ‘And if you balk or resort to tantrums, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you there, for you are behaving as a spoiled child over something that any other woman in the world would enjoy.’

      The nerve of the man. Very well, then. She would go to the dressmaker, get a few simple gowns in the same vein as those she owned, and escape the ridiculous display that he intended for her.

      She rode in silence with him, still irritated by his insistence on controlling a thing that he could know nothing about. Before her come-out, she had had more than her share of pushy dressmakers, shoe sellers and haberdashers, all eager to force her to look a way that did not make her the least bit comfortable. She had lacked the nerve to stand up to them, and had felt no different than a trained pony at the end of it, paraded about to attract a buyer.

      And it had all come to naught.

      The carriage pulled to a stop in front of an unassuming shop in a side street, far away from the hustle of Bond Street. Adam stepped down and held out his hand for her, but she would not take it. Unlike some women she could name, she could manage to walk without the assistance of Adam Felkirk.

      The horses chose that moment to shy, and she almost fell into the street.

      But her husband caught her easily, and pulled her into his arms, and safely to the ground. Then he had the gall to smile at her. ‘This is what happens when you try to resist me. There is no point in it. I suggest you surrender, now.’

      She glared at the shop in front of her. ‘And do you come here often to purchase clothes for women? Or is this the store that Clarissa was threatening me with?’

      ‘I have never been here before, and I have no idea where Clarissa would have had you go. This shop was frequented by my mother.’ His smile turned to an evil grin. ‘She decorated the sitting

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