“Well, then,” she said, uttering a small self-conscious laugh, almost as if she’d discerned his intent. “I bid you goodnight.” She turned and hurried toward the adjoining door.

He followed. Now that he’d decided to kiss her, everything in him screamed not to let her go until he accomplished his goal.

Oblivious, she crossed the threshold. “There is one thing more I wanted to mention,” she said, pivoting to face him. “Oh,” she said, apparently startled to see him standing so close.

He raised one arm, pressing his forearm into the doorjamb and his forehead into his forearm. “Funny, I had something to add, as well.”

“Oh? Go on.”

“Ladies first.”

She licked her lips. “Hardly worth mentioning, of course. Perhaps, tomorrow—”

“I insist.” And afterward, he would kiss her goodnight. Thoroughly. Perhaps she would invite him into her chamber.

She lowered her voice. “It goes without saying, certainly, but just to be one hundred percent certain we are on the same page: the marriage will be in name only.”

His insides clenched. He straightened away from the doorjamb and blanked his expression—he hoped. “Of course,” he agreed.

“What was it you wanted to say?”

He searched his mind and finally landed on something viable. “It’s along those lines. The marriage will be in name only—so long as you understand we must make a good showing.”

“A…good showing?”

“When we are in view of others—such as when we move in society.”

“Oh.” The smile she sent him was almost smug. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I do not move in society.”

He took a perverse pleasure in returning her smile. “You do now, Mrs. Devereux.” Before she could reply, he closed the door, very deliberately, in her face