Jenni Fletcher

Reclaimed By Her Rebel Knight


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Better to leave feelings out of it and try to live together peacefully instead. Their marriage was a practical arrangement, nothing more, although he had to admit it would have been easier if she hadn’t been quite so attractive.

      Overall, she was proving to be far more of a distraction than he’d anticipated. He’d found himself thinking about her even after he’d closed his eyes the previous night: the generous curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts over the square neck of her gown, the way they rose and fell with each breath... Strange how she’d assumed that he would have preferred to find himself married to one of her cousins, as if she didn’t consider herself attractive at all. In his eyes, there was no comparison. Which he might have told her if his first attempt at a compliment hadn’t gone so disastrously wrong...

      ‘You can ride with your friends if you wish.’ Her voice broke into his thoughts.

      ‘I don’t wish.’ He waved the suggestion away. There were certainly matters that he could—and possibly should—be discussing with his friends, but his conscience wouldn’t let him abandon her so soon after leaving her family. Besides, if he were going to ride anywhere then it would be behind where he could admire her posterior again. He was already feeling somewhat jealous of her saddle...and finding it difficult to stop his eyes from drifting in that direction. ‘We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, remember?’

      ‘So we are.’ She gave him a speculative look. ‘In that case, there was something I didn’t understand about what you said yesterday.’

      ‘What was that?’

      ‘Well...’ she frowned slightly ‘...when you offered an annulment you said you had bigger concerns, as if it didn’t matter to you whether we stayed married or not. So why did you marry me in the first place?’

      He swore inwardly, wishing he’d taken the opportunity to ride ahead with Jerrard and Laurent after all. His reasons for marrying weren’t something he wanted to think about, let alone talk about, though he didn’t want to lie either. ‘Because it was a good match. Our properties are adjacent and my father wanted to add Lacelby to the Wintercott estate.’

      ‘So it was your father who wanted the marriage?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘But you must have had a choice.’ Her eyes widened abruptly. ‘Or did he force you?’

      ‘Not exactly.’ He paused, searching for a better word. Coerced, bullied, blackmailed... ‘But it made sense from a practical point of view.’

      ‘Practical.’ She sighed. ‘That’s what my uncle said, too. Practical. Safe.’

      ‘Those are the things marriages like ours are based on.’ He felt oddly defensive all of a sudden. ‘It doesn’t mean that we can’t be content.’

      ‘I suppose not.’

      He twisted his head to study her. Something in her voice suggested that she found the idea of contentment distinctly underwhelming, though given the circumstances, she could hardly expect more. Surely not love? Arranged marriages had nothing to do with love. Even if he hadn’t had more important matters on his mind, he wasn’t the man to provide that particular emotion. Even friendship was out of the question. The last time he’d been friends with a woman, he’d ended up fleeing the country filled with anger, guilt and regret. He never wanted to go through anything like that again, though on the other hand surely it was safe to be friends with his wife? He didn’t dislike her after all. Her soulful grey-blue eyes, her direct way of speaking, her thoughtful manner—all of those things appealed to him. Not to mention the way she filled the front of her gown almost to bursting...

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