CHAPTER FOUR

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He needed to think of anything but her!

Race groaned in frustration as he helped his footman hitch the horses to the carriage. He was putting himself to so much unnecessary work because he was desperate to get his mind off of the woman he was now tied in marriage to. But he couldn't forget Lady Bianca. He couldn't forget their evening of passion together. For the life of him, he couldn't forget the wonders of her warm lips searing themselves into his, and embedding themselves in his memory. He couldn't forget the sensation he felt crawl all over his skin when she was close. He could barely fight his desire to pull her into his lap every evening, when she leaned over him to drape a blanket on him. In truth, it was one of the things he looked forward to when he made his way to their room every evening. He enjoyed the sweet scent of her skin and the wonderful tickles of her hair as they grazed his cheek.

Groaning, Race straightened. "That should be all."

"Yes sir."Richard, his footman, nodded, a smile on his face. He too must have had more than enough of the rains and being stuck in the boarding house. Placing his hat right over his black locks, "We are ready to go, sir."

Race nodded and stood still for several seconds, dreading having to go back into that boarding house to face his new bride. Perhaps it was the idea of being forced into this marriage that left him with a bitter taste in his mouth?

"I will wait in the carriage while you inform Lady Bianca that we are ready to leave." He didn't wait for Richard's response before pulling the door open and climbing in.

Lady Bianca showed up a few minutes later, dressed in her traveling clothes -a long, black coat and wrist length gloves- with her hair pulled to a loose bond at the back of her head.

The footman helped her into the carriage and she settled on the seat opposite his. Not bothering to acknowledge him -even when he offered her a nod in greeting- she kept her eyes on her hands that rested in her lap.

Throughout their journey to Bath, Race found his attention wandering to her more often than he'd actually like. She sat silently before him, her eyes focused mostly on her hands, and when perhaps her neck got tired of being strained downward, she turned to stare out of the window, making certain to stare at anything but him.

Race tried to convince himself he was thankful for the silence, at least it would afford him the opportunity to think of his next line of action. Now that he wasn't going to be living with the woman he loves for the rest of his life, he needed to come up with a plan to live with her sister. It was obvious that the only thing that could ever exist between them was intimacy -for he could barely convince his mind to forget their evening together. There was certainly no hope for love. No, he could never love a woman who trapped him into marrying her, and for reasons he didn't know about. Perhaps she snuck into his bed in a clear show of rebellion against her father? Race wasn't exactly certain, but the duke also made certain not to hand Race any dowry for marrying his daughter. Perhaps the duke had already disinherited Lady Bianca even before they met? Perhaps her lack of a dowry was what kept the suitors away, and she, knowing there was not much hope left, received the letter and marriage certificate he had foolishly sent to her sister -even if in truth, he knew he could never have succeeded in winning Lady Carla's heart- and hatched a plan to deceive him into marrying her.

When he glanced up at her once more, her head was tilted to the side, eyes closed, and lips parted for soft snores to escape. He watched her sleep, her innocent appearance in great contrast with the woman his mind convinced him she was. She wasn't just innocent looking, she was beautiful as well. Her pale, pink lips reminded him of pink roses. Her nose was perfect and pointy, and her eyes, when he had looked into them, were lovely and brown. Her skin was milky white, not unusual of the women of the ton, who protect their skins with due diligence from the sunlight. Race on the other hand, didn't get the luxury of having to choose whether or not he wanted his skin exposed to sunlight, for he had worked all his life on a farm. No doubt, her skin next to his, was like night and day.

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