Every nerve in Patience’s body was as taut as a violin string. From the lust-filled looks James gave her, she had no doubts that he’d read the short passage she had underlined. Even now, as he sat blandly discussing the reconvening of Parliament and the upcoming season’s festivities with their neighbor, the Earl of Waverly, James cast sidelong glances at her. Patience clenched her fists in her lap, praying no one would ask her to play the pianoforte or God forbid, to sing. Given her current state, both would be impossible. Warring emotions vied for prominence. Patience couldn’t decide whether it was dread or anticipation. A servant placed a dessert in front of her. “Thank you,” Patience said softly and as the staff served the others at the table, she took the opportunity to observe her husband. What did he think of her? She had not agreed to do much. The passage was short. And yet, it was a step. One tiny step. But it was a step Patience felt she needed to take. Perhaps it would even dispel the fear she needed to overcome her hesitation about submitting to James.
