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was to produce an heir. I would have been perfectly content to let Lady Annabelle see to that task, but you were determined to interfere.
    “There is a lesson to be learned from all of this, and I suggest you learn it well: actions have consequences.” His bearing was stiff as he stepped down onto the graveled driveway and turned to offer her his hand. She took it without hesitation or complaint, her chin tilted dignifiedly as she smiled down at him. But her eyes glistened with the sadness of a woman who’d resigned herself to her fate, and he realized that her bravado was not directed at him but at the servants who’d been assembled to greet their mistress.
    William had never felt like more of a cad. He’d been harsh with her, threatened her even when she was barely more than a child, yet it was she who’d risen above the disastrous situation, saving them both from losing face. Damn it all to hell—she’d lured him into the parson’s mousetrap against his will, he reminded himself as she settled her hand upon his arm. Nobody in his right mind would be able to blame him for his conduct toward her. If anything, he’d been more civil than most men in his situation would have been, and yet he could not shake the guilt that now gnawed at his conscience.
     
     
    C HAPTER F IVE
     
    T here was no denying it. Lucy was terrified.
    Upon their arrival, William had quickly retreated to his study under the pretext of having to see to some ledgers, not to mention the correspondences that must have accumulated and about a dozen other things that required his immediate attention. Lucy rather thought he’d been seeking an excuse to escape from her for an indefinite amount of time. Sadly, she hadn’t minded in the least; in fact, she’d been rather relieved to take a break from his constant condemnation. Instead, she’d allowed the housekeeper to show her upstairs, marveling at the grandeur of the house as she went.
    Dinner had been a lonely affair with no sign of William, and while she’d enjoyed her afternoon spent in solitude, she had hoped that he would make an appearance in the dining room, if for no other reason than to make her feel less absurd about being the only person seated at a table long enough to fit twenty. The sound of her cutlery clanking against her plate had resonated through the room so that by the time she was done eating, she found herself immensely relieved at the prospect of escaping back upstairs to her room.
    But then her maid had come to attend her, selecting a nightgown that, to be frank, was really too flimsy and transparent for Lucy not to blush at the mere thought of donning such a garment. It had been selected by William’s aunt, Lady Lindhurst, as part of Lucy’s trousseau. The second her maid had finished combing out her hair and departed, Lucy had jumped up and grabbed her dressing gown—she wasn’t about to let William find her lounging on the bed as if she actually looked forward to what was about to transpire between them.
    Instead, she now stared at the heavy oak door with as much foreboding as a prisoner awaiting the executioner. Her knowledge pertaining to the more intimate aspects of married life was limited—not because Constance hadn’t made an attempt to enlighten her, but because Lucy had been too embarrassed to listen. She now wished that she’d paid more attention, for her mind imagined an experience wrought with pain and suffering, not too dissimilar to what she expected childbirth to be like, albeit in a reversed sort of way. In fact, she was convinced that the whole affair might even be quite harmful, especially to someone like her with no experience. She instinctively crossed her legs and clamped her buttocks tightly together.
    William had told her that he expected her to perform her wifely duties without complaint, but would he force her? Would it even be fair of her to put him in a position where he might consider doing so? She shuddered. No, she’d treated him