Claiming His Wife

By Golden Angel

Estranged for years but still in love, Alex is determined to win back his wife.

Lord Brooke is determined to reconcile with his estranged wife, Grace. He's willing to put their past problems where he thinks they belong - in the past - but insults and disrespect will be met with discipline. He's seen the marriages his friends have, and decided to take a page from their books. Unfortunately for him, Grace is not so willing to let go of past hurts, although she has no choice but to go with him when he decides to take her to Bath. At least her friends are there for moral support, while she does her best to discover exactly why her husband is so intent on reconciliation rather than divorce.

Hugh and Irene are blissfully happy, having declared their love for each other, but they seem to be the only ones. Eleanor is pregnant and worried that her condition will mean the end of overt affection and desire from her husband - especially as he hasn't declared any kind of finer feelings for her. She thinks Edwin doesn't realize she's with child, and worries over how to prod a declaration of love from him. Meanwhile, everyone is gathered in Bath for Wesley's wedding to the brazen and rebellious Cynthia.

When these four women get together, it's no wonder that both trouble and bright red bottoms loom on the horizon. Each of their husbands is bound and determined to claim and tame his willful wife.

This book is rated sizzling!

1. Birching His Bride
2. Dealing With Discipline
3. Punishing His Ward
4. Claiming His Wife

• Language: English
• Publisher: Golden Angel
• Release date: Sep 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311273055

Golden Angel

Golden Angel is a USA Today best-selling author, Amazon Top 50 bestselling author, and self-described bibliophile with a "kinky" bent who loves to write stories for the characters in her head. If she didn't get them out, she's pretty sure she'd go just a little crazy.She is happily married, old enough to know better but still too young to care, and a big fan of happily-ever-afters, strong heroes and heroines, and sizzling chemistry.She believes the world is a better place when there's a little magic in it.Sign up to be part of the Golden Angel Legion newsletter and receive a free story, exclusive to newsletter subscribers - https://www.subscribepage.com/goldenangelromanceFind Her Online!Newsletter → https://www.subscribepage.com/goldenangelromanceBookBub → http://bit.ly/2G68e3OFacebook → http://bit.ly/2Ds7c0eGoodreads → http://bit.ly/2rt4rdLInstagram → http://bit.ly/2CkqiqZTwitter → https://bit.ly/38ImcYkWebsite → http://www.goldenangelromance.com

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

An hour into their carriage ride, Grace’s body was still reverberating with shock. Shock, betrayal and the smallest kernel of fear. All emotions which, at this point in her life, she’d thought herself to be far beyond. She’d truly believed she’d already lost her faith in people, that nothing they could do would surprise her, and she couldn’t be hurt again. It had taken her estranged husband less than an hour to show her differently.

It was fitting, perhaps, since he was the one who had taught her the meaning of betrayal in the first place. Not that he’d meant to. But she could still hear the words, ringing in her ears, like poison in her heart.

One woman is as good as another for a wife... and, thanks to you, Grace’s dowry made her especially useful as mine.

If one woman was truly as good as another, then why wasn’t her husband letting her go and contracting a marriage with a better one? A less embarrassing one? She looked outside the window, relieved she couldn’t see his straight-backed form on his horse. It would have been too tempting to throw something at his bloody stubborn head. One woman is as good as another... it was a chant swimming round her head, one that had tormented her for months when she’d first left Alex.

Well he’d certainly proved it, time and again, with one woman after another. A few months after she’d left him, she had just started feeling worthwhile again, enjoying the flirtations and words of men who thought she was beautiful, who thought she was desirable. Men who appreciated her for more than a business deal with her father. Then Alex had started his affairs, crushing what little had been left of her heart as he replaced her in his bed and divesting her of her last forlorn hope that perhaps she’d somehow misunderstood. Grace had faced down more than one of his lovers, who taunted her and flaunted his relations with them in her face. The women of the ton were catty and cruel, especially in the face of Grace’s youth and beauty. They’d been gleeful when the young, stunning bride, a Diamond of the First Water, had been replaced in her husband’s bed by them.

That’s when Grace had finally succumbed to her first rake. At least there she’d chosen wisely. The young Marquess of Hartington had been nursing his own broken heart when he’d seduced her. There had been no expectation of a future for either of them, no painful emotions, just a joining between sympathetic souls and a great deal of pleasure. It was empty pleasure, nothing like the joyful passion she’d found in Alex’s arms, but it had healed something inside of her. A belief in herself, the confidence of knowing she was desirable… and the broken edges of her heart hadn’t felt quite so sharp after that.

It was the first lesson she’d learned from her lovers; there was still pleasure to be found in the world. That lesson led to many others, and eventually she’d begun to hope perhaps she had a chance for love in her life after all. Just not with her husband. Grace wanted him to divorce her, and then she could make her way to America or the Continent to start anew. Some of the gossip would follow her, but maybe not all. Paris would probably be particularly welcoming of a young, scandalous beauty. Their nobility wasn’t nearly as stuffy as London’s, from what she heard, in Paris scandal made a woman more desirable.

Bastard, she muttered under her breath as her husband, seated handsomely upon his horse, dropped back into view, riding just a bit ahead of her carriage. Her hand twitched and if there had been a small enough object within reach, she definitely would have thrown it.

Immediately, Rose, her maid, looked up from the shirt she was stitching. Grace glared, filling her eyes with the hate and fury and frustration consuming her, and Rose dropped her gaze back down. At one time, Grace had considered Rose almost a friend, despite the difference in their stations. She had used Alex’s money to pay the girl an outrageous wage, given her all sorts of privileges, and had even confided in her often. Now she knew Rose was just another spy in her household.

Just like Peters.

Blinking away tears, Grace looked back out the window. That betrayal might hurt the worst. She’d always considered the butler to be her anchor, her haven. He guarded her home and kept the gossipmongers and dangerous roués away. But this morning he’d not only let Alex in, he’d instructed the household to pack her bags, and he’d been instrumental in getting her out the door and into Alex’s carriage. He’d been apologizing the entire time as she’d wept and raged, but his true loyalty had been revealed; Peters belonged to the man with the stony face who’d watched the proceedings and then stepped forward to give her a single stinging slap on her rump. She’d felt the blow even through the layers of her skirts and she’d been aghast, as he ordered her to stop heaping abuse on Peters.

One woman is as good as another.

Why had he come back for her? Why did he want reconciliation instead of divorce? It couldn’t be for the deal between him and her father anymore. Grace was quite sure their business together would continue no matter what; it had proved most profitable for both of them. Even if Alex divorced her, her father wouldn’t back out of it; he’d basically disowned Grace when she’d left Alex’s residence.

The day she’d left her husband, she’d made the mistake of trying to return to her father’s house, and been rewarded with a split lip for her troubles. There had never been any love there, but she’d still somehow thought her father might at least shelter her for a night while she decided what to do, where to go. Instead she’d spent the night in a hotel, eventually paid for by Alex, nursing both her broken heart and her wounded lip. The only thing that surprised her was her father hadn’t eventually come after her, demanding she return to Alex and stop sullying her family’s honor by her behavior. 

Perhaps he’d felt completely distancing himself from her was enough, since she and Alex were still technically married.

At least Alex continued to provide for her. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t particularly care either. Some form of guilt, perhaps, or maybe just to keep up appearances. It had kept her from having to contemplate less savory options for survival. Finances seemed to be the only thing he understood, the only thing that truly mattered to him. Since Grace was no longer of any use to him, she truly didn’t understand why he didn’t trade her out for a more willing wife.

Around midday, Alex called a halt for a meal. After riding all morning in the hot sun, hoping to give his wife some time to cool down after her rage this morning, he was feeling in dire need of sustenance. Perhaps it would also help give him the fortitude to get in the carriage and ride with Grace for the afternoon. He needed to do it at some point. Bath was several days away and he didn’t intend to spend the entirety of the journey on his horse. While he was certainly hardy enough to, he hoped he and Grace could at least begin to repair their relationship before reaching Bath and their friends. That required being in the same space. Besides, it was never good to let a woman stew with her own thoughts for too long. Especially if those thoughts were already bound to be belligerent.

As she swanned out of the carriage, lips pursed, refusing to look at him, he sighed internally. She certainly hadn’t softened since this morning. Although her eyes were still a bit red-rimmed from weeping, she looked as beautiful and unapproachable as a marble statue. Not at all like the laughing young woman he’d married. It made his chest ache as he wondered if he’d truly been the reason behind the death of her laughter.

Sometimes he wondered if it hadn’t been him at all, if perhaps there had been some other reason for her disaffection. The day she’d left him, she’d called them both fools. The rest of her words had been broken, disjointed, thrown at him between tears and raging insults, and he still didn’t know what he, or they, had done which was so foolish. Back then, he hadn’t cared; he’d been too affronted by her insults and too hurt by her desertion of him without any warning.

As Grace swept into the inn, her maid, Rose, trailed behind her. The young woman caught his eye and grimaced before following Grace through the door. Alex knew the two had had a very strong relationship, the kind of trust necessary between a lady and a maid. He supposed he was to blame for ruining that too.

Going into the inn, he arranged for a meal and a private dining room for them. Partly so he could at least try and speak with Grace, partly because he didn’t want anyone to witness the outburst he was sure must be boiling. During their short marriage, Grace had never been one to bottle up her emotions. From what he’d observed since she’d left him that was no longer true, but this morning had been an exception to that. Perhaps this afternoon would be too.

Hell, he almost wished she would rage at him again, instead of doing this damnable impression of an ice princess.

I ordered us some food and wine, he said as he walked into the room where Grace was already settling herself down at the table. He looked at Rose and tilted his head toward the door, dismissing her. For just a moment he thought he saw a flash of anger in Grace’s eyes as his presumptuousness, but then it was gone and she was back to staring at him blankly. After her fury this morning, he was all set for another scene, but instead she’d withdrawn inside herself again. Placing his hat down on the table, he sat across from her, studying her face. Grace looked over his shoulder, staring resolutely at the wall.

The idea of spanking her, as his friends had suggested, was becoming more and more appealing. Heating her bottom might break through some of her ice. Unfortunately, he didn’t really think he could stomach spanking her just to make her talk to him. He didn’t want to discipline her unless she’d actually done something to earn it.

The door behind him opened, admitting the innkeeper, who fluttered around them with their midday meal. Alex pasted a smile on his face, something he rarely expended the energy to do, and assured the man that the repast of meats and cheeses, with a small plate of fruit, was quite enough for both him and the lady. Anxious to please, the innkeeper poured their wine with a flourish and then hurried away, obviously picking up on Alex’s desire to be left in peace.

Having a third party there certainly helped to ease the tension for a few minutes; the second the innkeeper left the room, the air seemed to thicken and Alex could feel his stomach churning with anxiety. Kidnapping his wife in order to force reconciliation sounded quite easy in theory, but in actuality, the reconciliation part was going to be anything but.

Grace was already filling her plate, her focus completely on the food in front of them rather than looking at him. With an inward sigh, Alex supposed it was enough she wasn’t throwing the food at his head.

They ate in complete silence.

In fact, Grace didn’t make a single noise, speak a single word, until he started to follow her into the carriage. Already seated upon the bench, she whipped her head back around from where she’d already been looking out the window, her large blue eyes even wider than usual.

What are you doing? she asked sharply, her voice laced with shock. Alex had thought it was pretty obvious was he was doing, but he answered her anyway.

I thought I might join you in the carriage for the afternoon, he said, keeping his tone as amiable as possible, but also firm. He turned his head, giving Rose a jerking nod at the other carriage which was carrying several of the other servants. The maid turned, leaving him to climb in with Grace.

Firmly planting himself on the bench across from her, his legs stretched out, taking up as much space as possible. The carriage door shut and Grace hissed, like a cat whose fur had just been ruffled the wrong way. In fact, she looked very much like that cat. Alex ignored her.

There was a long silence between them, and then the carriage rocked as it began moving. He looked at Grace as she looked out the window, studying the tense muscle in her jaw, the long line of her throat, the way her breasts heaved as she sucked in air through her nose, and the tiny fists balled on her lap. It had been a long time since he’d been able to look at his wife this way, to examine her so minutely. There were small changes in her body, although she’d only become more beautiful with age, but the largest changes weren’t immediately visible. 

At one time they would have sat side by side in this carriage, talking and laughing, and she would have pressed herself against him while he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. One time he’d even made love to her in a carriage. After a ball, on their honeymoon, he’d pulled up her skirts and taken her right then and there, because he couldn’t wait till they’d returned to the hotel, his passion for her had been so great.

Stop looking at me like that.

Alex raised his eyebrow. As far as he could tell, Grace’s attention hadn’t strayed from the window. But then again, he hadn’t been looking at her expression just now. His eyes rose back to her face, noting the pink tinge to her cheeks. 

What do you mean? he asked, although he knew very well what she meant. He’d been looking at her the way a man looks at a woman, at his wife. The way a man looks at a woman who has been in his bed and found pleasure there.

It’s making my skin crawl. She shuddered, to emphasize her point.

Although the little barb pricked, the way she’d meant it to, he couldn’t help but wonder if her attack was more of a defense. There was certainly something about the tilt of her chin, the way she was holding herself, that made him feel as though she was trying to protect herself from something. From him. Hope kindled in his chest. She wasn’t as indifferent as she pretended to be. Perhaps she didn’t hate him as much as she seemed to.

I would think you’d become used to men looking at you like this, he murmured. Grace’s eyes snapped to his face, flashing blue fire, before she tore them away again. Her pretty rosebud of a mouth was wound up tight and pinched. As he watched it slowly smoothed and relaxed, as if she was pulling down a mask over her face. Many men enjoy looking at a beautiful woman.

Many men enjoy doing quite a bit more than looking.

A reference to her lovers. He wasn’t surprised. Jealousy had become a part of his everyday life after she’d left him, but he’d always considered it just punishment. After all, he’d been the one to drive her to that point.

You would know, I suppose.

To his surprise, Grace flinched. Her eyes slid over to him again, wary and defensive.

I didn’t take a lover till you took a mistress, she said, obviously expecting him to argue.

I know.

Her mouth opened and shut, surprise flitting across her face. Apparently he’d rendered her speechless. Something he hadn’t thought possible. The carriage rocked as she looked back out the window, her brow creased in thought at his revelation. Her face was closed, impassive again, and he couldn’t read what she was thinking. It nagged at him, even as he recognized the irony, considering many among the ton called him Stone Face for the same reason.

Alex knew many of his desires were improbable. He wanted his younger wife back, the trusting young woman whose expression had always been open, whose moments of bitterness were constantly turned to lightness at the drop of the hat. There had always been a bit of a dark core to Grace, behind her laughing face. Alex assumed her father was somewhat responsible for that; the man hadn’t cared overmuch for his daughter, before or after her marriage. If it hadn’t been for Alex’s intervention, the Duke would have had her ostracized once she separated from Alex.

But the man had respected Alex’s wishes when it came to dealing with his wife.

However badly he’d gone about doing it. Now was the time to fix their relationship though. He’d seen the marriages his friends had procured for themselves; remarkably similar to the marriage he’d once thought to have. The main difference, it seemed, was they spanked their wives when the women became unreasonable or acted inappropriately. If Alex had given Grace time to calm down the very first time she’d first ranted at him, if he’d swallowed his foolish pride and actually followed her and spanked her until she talked to him about whatever the problem was, maybe they could have avoided the misery they’d made of their marriage.

It was by no means entirely her fault, but nor was it his. Still, he assumed the burden of responsibility. After all, he was older, should have been wiser, and was the head of the household. It was past time to start making up for their mistakes and establish a new world order. He’d originally come to London this year hoping to speak with her, hoping to end the stalemate, and then he’d seen his friends’ marriages and he’d begun to realize what he needed to do. Now it was time to put their advice and suggestions into action.

Grace... His voice trailed off and then firmed as she ignored him. Grace, look at me. He could see the reluctance in her as she turned her head to face him once again. At least she’d obeyed, even if the eyes meeting his were entirely devoid of sparkle. They were practically doll’s eyes, dead and empty. I’m not going to hold your lovers against you. I want a fresh start for both of us. Our marriage needs to move forward, not dwell in the past.

The suggestion sparked an immediate response, but not at all the one he was expecting. Honestly, he’d thought she’d be relieved he was being so reasonable, that she would at least grudgingly agree to such a tactic. Instead, her eyes came to life with fiery anger, her lip curling in a gorgeous, derisive sneer. She was suddenly so much more alive, as if his words had lit a flame inside of her.

Your mistresses don’t concern me, she spat the words out, showing them for the lie they were. But I have no interest in starting anew with you. Why won’t you just leave me alone?

Alex felt his expression harden, knew it was turning into the dark, rock-like features for which he was known. It was the easiest way for him to hide his emotions. Because you’re my wife.

Well, I don’t want to be anymore! Honestly, how dense do you have to be? A rock has more capacity for both emotions and intelligence than you do!

That was it. While he was willing to make some allowances for her anger, since she was obviously still holding a grudge, outright disrespect he would not tolerate. If starting fresh wasn’t acceptable to her, then he would have to impose himself on her life until she came to realize he wasn’t going away and he also wasn’t going to tolerate rude behavior on her part. While he couldn’t control how she felt about him, he could at least control how she treated him.

He’d seen how his friends curbed their wives’ behavior, and how effective it was. He’d allowed Grace to run amok for far too long, showing no outright interest in how she behaved. Perhaps she thought he didn’t care, the way a spoiled child would run rampant, trying to find boundaries. Well, Alex was going to set some. Starting now.

Quick as a snake, he grabbed Grace’s hand and used the momentum of the carriage to pull her across the dividing space and over his lap. Her shriek of shock and outrage didn’t detract from the rush of pleasure he got from touching her. Especially once she was pressed against him, her bottom high in the air.

THUMP!

The layers of her skirt were definitely in the way. Alex immediately understood why Hugh had insisted on a bare bottom spanking. It was obvious that, while she was frozen with shock, the blow had barely touched her through all those layers of skirt. 

Alex, what the hell?!

Insults and now cursing, which was not at all befitting of a lady. Grace wriggled on his lap, trying to squirm away, and igniting a response she probably wouldn’t have expected. Then again, just being near her aroused him, actually having her softness pressed against his lap and cock would have tried a saint.

I told you Grace, we’re starting our marriage over. While I understand you may still be angry about some things, and I accept that, I will no longer tolerate certain behavior from you. Insults and cursing are both included in behaviors which are unacceptable. Ignoring her squeal and the way her nails were digging into his leg, through his pants, he flipped her skirts up.

She was wearing pantaloons beneath, but that was fine. The fabric was thin. He’d allow her some small protection, since this was the first time, and he knew he was already pushing her quite a bit.

SMACK!

The sound of his hand impacting her flesh through one layer of fabric was much more satisfying than through her skirts. Grace cried out, struggling wildly now. Holding her firmly, his arm resting on her back and his hand gripping the far side of her waist, Alex started to spank her, doing his best to keep the blows evenly spaced across her bottom.

There will be no more insults.

SMACK!

There will be no more cursing.

SMACK!

You will be civil if nothing else.

SMACK!

We will work out our issues in private.

SMACK!"

In public we will present a united front.

SMACK!

And there will definitely be no more men, he said fiercely, allowing his emotions to bleed through. 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Grace was howling, crying, kicking. He could feel the heat emanating off of her bottom through the thin fabric of her pantaloons, and just barely see a pink glow. This wasn’t a particularly hard spanking, but it was certainly more than she’d ever experienced. He knew her father had never employed any means of discipline; Grace had said he tended to ignore his daughters unless he wanted something from them.

There will be no more women for me, either.

Alex, stop, please! Owwww, Alex stop!

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Do you agree?

Stop, pleeeeeeeeease, it hurts, Alex, stop!

I need you to agree to my terms, Grace.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I agree! I agree!

Immediately, Alex stopped spanking her. He could feel the sobs wracking her frame, and he suddenly realized he’d never seen her cry in such a manner. The need to soothe her was almost overwhelming. Lifting her up, he sat her on his lap, letting her squirm and wriggle as much as needed to be comfortable sitting on his thighs when her bottom was probably burning. Digging a handkerchief out of his pocket, he wiped at her tears, cradling her with his other arm as he murmured about how pleased he was that she’d agreed.

Ignoring his aching erection wasn’t pleasant, but it was worth it just to have her in his arms again.

Confusion swamped Grace as her tears overwhelmed her. The spanking had hurt, it surely had, but it shouldn’t be making her feel like this. The skin of her bottom burned, sparks flaring as she tried to find a comfortable way to sit on Alex’s hard thighs.

She shouldn’t be enjoying having his arms around her, she really shouldn’t, but it felt so good to be held and comforted while she cried. It was not something she had much experience with. Crying had never done any good when she was growing up, mostly it got her banished back to the nursery where her father wouldn’t have to look at her tears, and so she’d soon learned not to. The last time she’d really cried had been the night she’d left Alex, and even those tears had dried fairly quickly, because she’d been well aware how useless they were.

So why was she crying now like her heart was broken? The tears weren’t slowing, if anything they were increasing as he held her against him.

Her emotions were jumbled, jangling inside of her, like too many church bells rioting inside her head. While she knew she should be furious with Alex, and she still was, she couldn’t help but crave being held and comforted. Even though he was the one who had caused her distress, both in the past and today. The very idea that he thought he could spank her into compliance should have enraged her. 

It would, she was sure it would, as soon as she managed to stop crying.

Some small part of her, some tiny remnant of her heart he hadn’t managed to crush yet, was pulsing with hope. That’s what angered her the most. He’d sounded like he cared while he was spanking her. Not the edict that they would present a respectable face to the public, which was what she’d expected of him, but when he said there would be no more men. It was the way he’d said it. Like it tormented him to know she’d had other lovers, like it had hurt him as much as his first affairs had torn at her. Stupid, really, to think it might be true. She knew how he really felt about women, how he felt about her.

One woman is as good as another.

But then why track her down like this? Why spank her? Why not just negotiate for whatever it was he wanted from her? Even if he didn’t want the scandal of divorce—which she didn’t understand, since she’d made herself a much greater scandal than a divorce would be—she would have expected him to come at her with a very different agreement. One which would allow him to keep his mistresses, and her to continue on with her affairs, as long as she bore his heir and became discreet. In other words, as long as they acted like the rest of the unhappily married couples in the ton.

Grace could have said no to that. It would have been easy. She didn’t want any part of marriage to a man who had no emotions for her. She wanted her freedom. But this? The rawness in his voice when he’d said there would be no more women for him had made it sound like a promise. A vow. She wanted to believe him, which made her furious at herself.

Her tears were finally starting to slow and she tried to push away from him, but his arms tightened. 

Stay... just stay still, Grace. Let me hold you for a while. The hoarseness in his voice made him sound almost desperate. Unless, of course, she was imagining things which weren’t there, the way she had when they’d first married. But his arms weren’t loosening.

She was so tired of fighting. Not just today. It felt like she’d been struggling against impossible odds for years. The welcome numbness of exhaustion enveloped her, and she slumped against him, letting him hold her because it was easier than continuing to fight.

Alex knew the moment Grace finally woke up, because she practically vaulted out of his arms. The wild look she gave him was replaced with an angry, pained one as soon as her bottom came into contact with the carriage bench. It was all he could do not to chuckle, but he didn’t want to provoke his little wildcat of a wife any further.

Tilting her chin up, she gingerly settled back into her seat, smoothing down her hair and clothing as if pretending he didn’t exist.

The past hour had been the best hour he’d had in years. Grace had reluctantly settled into his arms and then she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, her sweet scent surrounding him, her curves resting against him. It had also been an exercise in self-control, because his body had responded to having a woman nestled up against him, especially because it was finally the right woman. Despite the aching torment of his cock, he’d fully enjoyed every last second of it.

Even now, he could barely tear his eyes away from the crease on her cheek, left from where it had pressed against his jacket.

He’d spanked her and she’d let him hold her. And she’d agreed to his terms for the future of the marriage. Obviously his friends were right. He should have taken her in hand years ago.

CHAPTER 2

Unruly emotions clamored inside of Grace’s stomach, and she was grateful Alex seemed content to finish the rest of the afternoon’s ride in silence. It felt like she was burning, inside and out. Humiliation swept through her—truly, how stupid was she to pretend he cared for her?—along with anger at herself, embarrassment at how easily he’d handled her, and the small, sick hope that maybe he somehow did care. She could still feel his eyes, occasionally sweeping over her, but she resisted the temptation to look at him.

Something had changed within him, obviously, and she didn’t yet know how to react. Nothing was going the way she thought it would, and it put her entirely off balance.

Her bottom still smarted a bit, although the pain had swiftly dwindled. Grace’s father had never disciplined her in such a manner. It would have taken effort on his part. Whenever she’d misbehaved, he’d solved it by the simple expedient of banning her from seeing her mother or sisters. Then he didn’t have to deal with her at all. Loneliness was a swift teacher for a little girl. Her father’s coldness had spurred her desire for a marriage with something more; a man who was capable of loving her would certainly be capable of loving her children.