Page 40 of The Duchess Audition

A sizable armoire was probably too much for Marina’s simple wardrobe, but Anthony’s grandmother would quickly remedy that. Meanwhile, a desk by the tall windows was already stocked with a dense tower of paper, as well as quills and ink, so she could begin her work again as soon as she pleased.

He did not look too long at the bed, currently shrouded by a gauzy canopy.

“This is wonderful,” Marina said, smiling. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “It is what a duchess deserves.” Moving further into the room, until he was but a step away from her, he gestured to an adjoining door. “Through there is a dressing room, and there is a bathtub if you wish to bathe. Just ring the bell if you want anything, and someone will tend to you.”

“A bath would be rather lovely,” she admitted. “I am not good at traveling; I should like to wash the journey away before… this evening.”

Anthony’s throat tightened. “There is no need to prepare yourself,” he said. “Bathe at your leisure, by all means, but there will be no wedding night. I assumed that was inferred by our agreement.”

She tilted her head to one side, staring at him as if he had spoken to her in Russian—although, from what he had seen, she probably spoke Russian well.

“I do not understand,” she said.

“As we have a marriage of convenience, and I want no more children, we do not need to have a wedding night,” he replied, uncertain of how he could make it any clearer.

She shook her head. “A wedding night? Is that not just the night after the wedding?”

It was his turn to look at her in confusion. Surely, for a woman who knew so much, she knew what a wedding night involved? Why, considering her medical education, he would not have been surprised if she could name everything in Latin, and in cold, anatomical detail.

“The wedding night,” he repeated, slowly.

“I do not know what that is,” she replied, just as slowly. “All I know is the wedding breakfast, which we did not have.”

Oh goodness…

He had simply assumed that she knew. Now, he was going to have to explain it, and he did not have her gift for rattling off information with ease. Especially not this sort of information.

“You know how children are created, yes?” he said awkwardly.

She hesitated. “In theory, I do. They grow in a lady’s womb.”

“And you know how they get there?” He cringed inwardly, his skin flushing with heat.

“I have not got that far yet,” she admitted, biting her lip. “I am currently studying the stomach.”

“But you have read about anatomy?”

“Oh, I have read a great deal about anatomy,” she replied. “But mostly, I study the structure of herbs and plants, rather than the human body. I learn of their advantages and uses, and how it treats the body, rather than the body itself.”

This must be a trick to embarrass me. It has to be.

He swept a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders now aching up the back of his neck.

“I wish I had a book to explain,” he said awkwardly. “Usually, on a wedding night, a husband and wife will… lie together.”

Marina continued to stare at him blankly. “To sleep? I do not mind if you are elsewhere. I doubt I could sleep beside another person; I am so used to sleeping alone.”

“No, it is not to sleep,” Anthony answered, taking a breath.

Averting his gaze and keeping his voice as flat as possible, he explained the true meaning of a wedding night. He was not as detailed as she might have been when describing something, but he was detailed enough that she would not fail to understand.

“But, as I said, as I have no desire for more children, that is not something you need to concern yourself with. Not tonight, not ever,” he concluded, his throat so tight it felt as if he had swallowed something sharp.

Marina said nothing, her silence forcing him to turn his gaze back to her to ensure that she was all right.

Her beautiful eyes were wide, her face a rosy pink, her lips parted in shock, her chest rising and falling in short, quick breaths. A vision that he could not look away from, though his mind screamed at him to lower his gaze in case she feared that his lingering observation meant something more, that he had changed his mind about the wedding night.