There was nothing wrong, he thought, in indulging in a rare moment of cease fire between him and his bride-to-be. Especially because the day was starting to feel like it would be another long one and the sad news was that they were only halfway done. Therefore, Nicholas closed his eyes and leaned to her touch, listening to her soft melodic voice.

[i] “I do believe that was the most honest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Thank you. That’s all I’ve wanted from you!”[/i]

His blue eyes fluttered open in response to her gloved hand leaving his cheek so soon. Those words and the sincerity backing it made him feel a bit guilty. She would never make the assignment easy. 

[i] “This entire time, all this silly fake romance and putting up fronts, and you’re being forced into this just as much as I am!”[/i]

“I had to. I had hoped to win you over and make this easier for both you and I,” he said, turning to face her. They both participated in a contest of wills, staring into the other person’s face, smiling their personal versions of a content smile, and not wanting to be the first to break eye contact. 

[i]“No more lying about why we’re here or what we want,”[/i] Claire continued, still watching him with her bright eyes. [i]”Doesn’t this feel better? Yes, we’re both unhappy, but I feel like things are better now. Though that last bit sounded a little silly…you don’t know if I’m a wonderful person. Not yet, and that’s all right. I probably won’t be wonderful for quite some time, Nick. I enjoy making you miserable all too much,” [/i]

“As far as London is concerned, Ms. Abbott,” he sighed in fake disappointment while she laughed. “You are very different.” And difficult, he wanted to add. “And as your husband, I promise, with all my heart, to retaliate no matter how petty your issue might be.” 

[i] “And Nicholas? I would love for my boy to look like you. He will. So enough of that, please? Ready to show me around? I’m excited to get a look at my bed,”[/i]

Nick didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped out of the carriage first then helped her down. He took advantage of their close proximity and leaned close to her ear to whisper, “I’m sure you would want our boy to look like me as I am – according to more than one reliable source – a painfully handsome gentleman.” Then he offered his arm while wearing his most charming smile. 

They stood on a five-acre property of neatly trimmed grass and strategically planted trees – one even served as shade to the couple. The house itself rested on a small hill, elevated from the surrounding, which allowed them a beautiful view of their land and neighbors. Tree-lined cobbled stone path traced about half a kilometer from the iron gates, passing through a bridge over a pond, to the façade of their house. Had he not supposed to have seen the property already, Nick would have panicked, but standing beside Claire, he assumed a confident face. “Do you like it so far?” he asked.
The house itself was an L-shaped three-storey mansion, covering a floor area of 12,000 square meters. Its walls were of red bricks and limestone, put together to match the latest in architecture in England. He led her up the stairs to the front porch where the double doors were opened by none other than the Rochfords’ townhouse butler. 

“Robert,” he acknowledged the other man’s presence. “Is the master’s bedroom prepared?”

“Not quite, sir,” Robert replied. He was generally a polite man of mid-forties, but Nicholas and Claire turning up at the door and looking for the bedroom might have had forced inappropriate thoughts in his mind. He covered the pause up with a well-studied clearing of his throat. “Some of the furniture, not just for your bedroom, has not yet arrived.”

Nick didn’t seem to notice. “I would like to show Ms. Abbott the room, for her approval,” he said. The older man had no cause to argue. He led the couple up the staircase and into their room. Much to his disappointment, the door opened to a very bare, but admittedly very spacious room with enough windows to light the space up.