A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 35: Vera & Ben

'I am so sore.' Vera complained, lying face down on her bed as her husband entered her room, holding a small container. 'Why on earth is that man so slow?!'

'The man is one of the finest painters in London.' He chided her with a smile. 'They say his attention to detail is unparalleled.'

'And why do we even need a new portrait? We had one done after the wedding.'

Not only had the dreadful artist made her sit in one pose for what had felt like hours, but her courses were also upon her again. Her back ached, her shoulders ached, and her breasts ached. Her insides were being ripped to shreds. She would be pleased to never move from her bed ever again.

'Oh, do you mean the one that hangs in my London townhouse?' He asked with a hint of sarcasm. 'The one in which it looks like the two of us have been sentenced to death, so miserable we are? Why on earth should I ever wish to replace that one?'

She chuckled softly. It had been a truly horrendous portrait following an equally horrendous wedding night. Oh and of course, the preceding breakfast where he had told her not to expect romance and other such silly things. That elicited another laugh which then morphed into a groan as she felt the onset of a decidedly painful cramp.

A small meow announced the arrival of the feline Duchess, clearly perturbed at having been left all by her lonesome. She hopped onto the bed, honored Minerva with the view of her bottom, and then sat down to observe what the couple was doing. Her tail swished as she nuzzled into Vera's cheek.

'Do not pretend you care for me, you wretch!' The human Duchess informed the feline one. 'You're only here because for once his attention is not on you.'

The cat had become rather obsessed with her husband, trotting after him everywhere, sleeping curled next to him, and sitting in his lap whenever she found it available. Benedict chuckled and scratched her over the head, she purred as she leaned into his touch.

Hussy.

She ought to get an ill-mannered dog that snarled at everyone and name it Benjamin! Or Duke!

Minerva attempted to move, her muscles screamed in protest so she just went limp. 'And I must inform you that your breath is most rancid! I shall ask the cook to stop giving you fish scraps.'

'Would you-?' He began and then paused, offering her the container he had brought. 'Would you like me to rub your back? I have a salve for pain and such. Helps with sore muscles and- ahem- feminine aches. I asked the family physician to send it for you after last time, it used to help Ophelia.'

'I could not possibly ask you to do that! You're my husband! And a duke!' She argued hotly. 'I shall ring for a maid.'

'I do not mind. Surely, this is proper? It's simply a Married Thing.' He chuckled in response. 'Just like the several other Married Things I'd like to do to you. Proper as it gets. With my body, I thee worship. It was in our vows, you know.'

'You are outrageous!' She squeaked. This man! Could she have stick-up-his-bum Rothbury back, please? This rogue was far too adept at flirtation and was laying siege to the fortress she had erected around her heart! They hadn't fought about anything in ages! Perhaps she ought to pick an argument? Or do something to annoy- Ouch! She winced as another cramp overtook her.

'Only for you, wife.' He winked. Winked! Since when did this man wink? He was becoming far too comfortable being improper! 'And since you don't want me to worship you in other ways.... I promise to be on my very best behavior.'

She let out an outraged sound for the sake of her pride but acquiesced with shameful readiness. She really liked having his hands on her. Smite her if it was a sin! Then she cracked open one eye and shot a look heavenward.