Читать книгу Regency Society Collection Part 2 - Хелен Диксон, Ann Lethbridge, Хелен Диксон - Страница 35

It was a good few moments before Robert could bring himself to ring the bell at Mountford House. He’d never expected to set foot in the place again. He’d never wanted to. Except for a yearning that would not be denied. Not now, as he stood on the doorstep.

He took a deep breath and pulled the bell, listened to the tolling deep in the servants’ quarters.

Grimshaw opened the door. Not a flicker passed across his face at the sight of Robert. The man was imperturbable, as all dukes’ servants should be. ‘Lord Robert, good to see you again.’

‘Thank you, Grimshaw.’ He handed over his hat.

‘Her Grace is in the blue drawing room.’

‘I know the way. No need to announce me. I believe I am expected.’

The butler bowed.

Expected.

How formal it sounded.

But he was the black sheep. Not returning home, but merely paying a courtesy call. It hadn’t taken too many hours of staring into a brandy glass to realise he would not remain in England. Even if Frederica had gone to Italy, her face would haunt him in every field and wood. He might be tempted to follow her.

Early this morning, he’d drafted a note declining his mother’s invitation, but in the end he hadn’t the heart to send it. So here he was, prepared for tears and admonishments and a final farewell.

He stared at the drawing room door. Did he knock?

Hell. She had called him her son.

He turned the handle and walked in.

As always she looked beautiful for her age. A little pale, a little sad, a little more fragile, but there was a welcome on her lips and in her eyes.

‘Mama.’ He started forwards.

A movement jerked his gaze from his mother to a figure rising from a chair on the other side of the room.

Father. Bile rose in his throat. He was not even to have this moment alone with his mother.

He bowed and then met his father’s gaze. ‘Your Grace. Forgive me. I was unaware of your presence.’ Heartsick, he turned to leave.

‘Robert, wait.’ His father’s voice.

He stilled. ‘My son. Please. I’m sorry.’

Robert turned slowly. Never in his life had he heard his father retract his word or offer an apology. He darted a glance at Mother. Her face showed nothing.

His father strode forwards, hand outstretched. ‘Can you forgive what I did?’ he asked. ‘Your mother cannot.’

His father’s brown eyes pleaded. It was as far as he would go. Far further than Robert would ever have expected.

He grasped the offered hand, felt its strength and its tremble. ‘Father.’ It was all he could manage without breaking down, without bringing shame on them both.

Somehow he choked down the lump in his throat. ‘I’m sorry, Father. I should never have helped Charlie to join the army. It was wrong. I could not have borne it if he had come to any real harm.’

Father’s eyes moistened. He raised a hand. ‘I know, my boy. I should not have blamed you. Charlie and I had a long talk. Youth believes itself invincible. I had forgotten. I’m glad you finally came home.’

‘Come here, Robert,’ Mother said. ‘Let me look at you.’

He strode to stand in front of her and took both her hands in his and kissed them.

‘Oh, my son. I’ve missed you greatly. Sit down. I want to hear what you have been doing. Radthorn told me a little, but I gather you have been employed in the country?’

He sat beside her on the sofa. She retained hold of his hand as if she feared he might run from the room as he had done so often as a boy.

‘Gamekeeping,’ he said with a wary look at Father who had taken the chair beside the hearth.

‘Learned a lot, did you?’ Father asked. He sounded eager.

‘Yes.’

‘You always did like the land,’ Father said in satisfied tones.

He’d noticed? Robert tried to hold his jaw in place. He wasn’t sure he succeeded from the knowing gleam in his father’s eye.

‘Your mother pointed it out,’ Father said, with a fond glance at his wife. ‘I should have realised. Lord knows there are enough estates to worry about.’

Robert stiffened. ‘They go with the title.’ He turned to Mother. ‘I want nothing of Charlie’s.’

‘I know,’ she said, her grey eyes sorrowful.

The tension inside him eased. He could almost feel her arms around his shoulders, the way he had as a boy when hurt by his father’s lack of interest. ‘I’m leaving for America,’ he announced, suddenly coming to a decision.

‘Why America?’ Father said. ‘We just lost a war with them. Go to Canada, my boy. I’ve some contacts there. I’ll give you letters of introduction.’

Naturally Father would be glad to see his awkward complication gone. Or was he really trying to help? He swallowed the old bitterness and took the offer at face value. ‘Thank you, your Grace.’

The clock in the hall chimed. ‘Good lord, is that the time?’ the duke said. ‘I’ll be late for the House.’

Robert rose. ‘It was good to see you again, your Grace.’

Father clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’ve done well, my boy. Surprised me.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But for your swift action, we might well have lost Charles.’

This was the thanks Robert had wanted all those months ago. The recognition that he would never cause his brother harm and that he was just as important to his family as his brother. The anger clutching at his heart seeped away at the sight of his father’s distress. A hot lump of emotion scoured the back of his throat. He managed a nod.

The duke smiled sadly at his wife. ‘Your mother believes Charles will come about now we have found you again.’ His grim face said he wasn’t quite sure.

Robert glanced at his mother. ‘What is wrong with Charlie?’

His mother sighed. ‘We have rarely seen him since your departure. And not heard a word from him since he left for Durn after New Years’ Day. He’ll come to his senses.’

Father closed his eyes briefly. ‘I was wrong to try to drive a wedge between my sons. Dem me…’ He turned away, but not before Robert saw the moisture in the old man’s eyes. So the duke really did have a heart.

His own felt a little less bruised. ‘It doesn’t matter, Father. You did what you thought was right. For the good of the family.’

‘Hmmph,’ said Mother.

The duke kissed his wife’s hand and straightened his shoulders. ‘If you need that recommendation, let me know, but I’d be very happy if you decided to stay.’ He strode from the room, not quite as tall as Robert remembered. Not quite as self-assured.

Her grace watched him go with a sad expression. ‘Pride is a difficult thing,’ she said softly. ‘It is so hard to go back.’

‘I’m grateful for your help,’ Robert said. ‘With Father. And Miss Bracewell. Though you should not have put yourself in such danger. If anything had happened to you…’

His mother raised an elegant hand and lightly touched his cheek. ‘I haven’t had so much excitement in years. Her mother and I were friends, you know. I had a long talk with Miss Bracewell when John brought her here yesterday morning.’

Robert frowned. ‘I don’t know what John thought he was about.’

‘Helping you. You always did command the respect of your peers, even if you never realised it. Poor John, he was devastated when he realised he’d practically cut you outside White’s. You have forgiven him, haven’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Write to me from Canada, won’t you, dear, if you must go. I will miss you.’

His chest tightened. ‘I must, but I will miss you, too, Mama. And the others.’

‘They will be sorry not to have seen you. Come home to us when you can. You will always be welcome, Robert. Have no doubt.’

He took his mother’s hand in his and leaned to kiss her cheek. The familiar lavender scent washed through him followed by the same calm she’d instilled in him as an angry and confused boy.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured.

‘And so Miss Bracewell goes to Italy alone.’

Robert felt a faint prickle of unease at the back of his neck. ‘That was her plan.’

‘You are not putting her aside because you think her unworthy? Because she was born on the wrong side of the blanket?’ Mother asked a little hesitantly.

He stiffened at the faint tone of censure in her voice. ‘Good God, no! I—well, to put it bluntly, she is far above my touch, and I won’t be a parasite.’

Mother smiled sadly. ‘My proud, beautiful boy.’

Robert felt as if he’d missed something. ‘Snively will make sure she is safe.’

A crease developed between her fine brows. ‘I am surprised at you though, Robert, seducing an innocent and then abandoning her.’

His cheeks stung as if she had slapped him across the face. ‘You are wrong, Mother. I was not her first lover.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘What the hell do you think I am? She told me…’ Damn it, what had she said? I’m not so very innocent. ‘Frederica was not a maid when I met her.’ His face fired scarlet. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his mother. ‘A man knows these things.’

‘But Robert, you also know she quite often rides astride, like a boy.’

The truth hit him like a body blow. Shock jarred him off kilter.

His mother looked at him silently, her lips pursed.

Dear God. He’d seduced an innocent. He really was a blackguard. ‘I have to go.’

She raised a brow. ‘I should think you do. But, Robert, a piece of advice. Pride and love don’t make good bedmates.’

And with that incomprehensible admonition ringing in his ears he kissed her and left.

Sitting at the table in her private parlour, Frederica jabbed her fork into the roast beef on her plate, lifted it to her mouth, and then put it down again. She just didn’t feel hungry.

She left the table and moved to the sofa by the hearth. The sofa where she’d sat just the other night in Robert’s arms. She’d been so contented, secure. Without him, she would never have been brave enough to face the lawyer. So why did she now feel so uneasy? The worst was over.

Wealthy beyond her wildest imaginings, she could do anything she wanted. Snively had hired a maid for her and a lady’s companion to accompany them on their journey. The old man had beamed when she asked him to go with her as her major domo. Everything was perfect.

Or it would be if Robert hadn’t walked way.

Because he wanted his freedom.

Maggie had kindly told her a little bit about his past. The parade of women through his life. She was just one of many. He was a rake.

The piper must be paid. Or was it no good crying over spilt milk? He didn’t want her. He’d said so in front of everyone.

She sighed and gazed at the trunks standing in the middle of the parlour floor all packed and ready to go at any moment.

A knock came at the door.

The man for the trunks.

She went to the door and unlocked it.

‘R-Robert?’

He looked so handsome in his gentleman’s clothing, dark blue coat and cream waistcoat and newly shaved.

‘May I come in? We need to talk,’ he said grimly. He inhaled a quick breath as if he had something unpleasant to say. ‘I just left my mother.’

She backed away cautiously. ‘W-what is it?’

‘There is something I have to ask you. I want the truth.’

She perched on the sofa’s edge, wary, uncomfortable. ‘What did you want to know?’

He kept her hand clasped in his. ‘Were you indeed a virgin before we met?’

His mother had betrayed her confidence. A confidence the formidable lady had extracted with a cleverness that had left Frederica in awe. But her Grace had promised to say nothing to her son.

‘She had no right to tell you.’

He drew in a sharp breath. He looked appalled. ‘We must be married right away.’

Married. Her heart gave a happy little lurch. Her gaze took in the tightness of his mouth, the darkness in his eyes, and she knew it would be a mistake.

She attempted a laugh. It sounded brittle instead of light and carefree. ‘La, this is sudden, my lord. Such a declaration.’

He glowered. ‘On my honour, I must make this right.’

‘Must?’ She’d spoken to him of love and he spoke of honour. She pulled her hand from his grasp. ‘Why must you?’

‘It is obvious. I took your innocence. I can do nothing else.’

‘I was never an innocent, Robert. I have eyes in my head. I saw the beasts in the fields. I can read. I knew what men looked like and what happens between a man and woman.’

‘Good God, woman, it doesn’t matter what you knew. I debauched you. It is my duty.’

‘Duty?’ The word was a shriek in her head. It hurt worse than years of hearing her family’s horrid slights. She lifted her chin and put chill in her voice. ‘Why is it your duty to marry the daughter of the Wynchwood Whore?’

‘That has nothing to do with it.’

‘Did the thought of the money make you change your mind?’ she said cruelly, knowing it would hurt him as much as he was hurting her.

‘I don’t want a penny of your damned money.’

‘To hell with duty, then. I don’t need your name to make me respectable.’ She clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt and turned her face away. ‘My wealth will do that. I will never marry. I’ll take my pleasure where I want and with whom I want. The way my mother did.’

He flinched. ‘You can’t mean that.’

Drawing in a breath to garner every ounce of her strength, she turned to look at him. ‘Yes, R-Robert. I do. Think back. I wanted you. I seduced you. Now, I don’t want you any more. Surely you of all people can understand?’

A muscle in his jaw flickered. There was anger in his eyes and something else. Anguish? Surely not. The pain in her chest grew so bad she thought she might fall to her knees, but she must not, for then he would know what it cost her to send him away. He’d know and he’d try to change her mind.

To tie the man she loved to her in wedlock against his will, knowing he didn’t love her…It didn’t bear thinking about.

Frederica got up and went to the door of her adjoining bedroom, unable to look at his beautiful face in case she weakened. Hand on the doorknob, she spoke quietly, calmly. ‘I must ask you to leave. Please, do not come here again. I will not see you.’

She went inside and shut the door.

She stood rigid and shaking on the other side. No tears. No sobbing. He mustn’t guess how much she was wounded.

After a moment or two, she heard the outside door close.

He’d be glad she refused him. Later.

He’d be thankful for his escape.

She sank down on to the bed and buried her face in the pillow and sobbed.

She didn’t want him.

Furious, Robert slammed out of the parlour. He’d offered her his name and she’d given him his congé.

Now he knew how all those women in his life had felt.

God damn, it hurt.

He tore down the stairs in fury.

Why wouldn’t she let him put things right? She’d talked of wanting other men and thrown him out. His body shook. His heart raged. His fists opened and closed. Wanting to strangle her. To make her listen to reason.

He needed a drink. Something to take away the turmoil in his head.

On his way to the taproom, he collided with Snively. He glared at him and pushed by.

Snively grabbed his sleeve. ‘You been up there upsetting her again?’

‘Hardly,’ Robert said. ‘She doesn’t give a tinker’s cuss for me.’

‘Hoity-toity bugger. Up in the boughs, are we?’

Robert brushed him off. ‘You’ve no idea what you are talking about.’

‘I know she looks like she lost half a crown and found a penny.’

Robert paused.

‘She ain’t eating much either.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘She’s miserable when she should be as happy as a grig.’

‘What has that to do with me?’

Snively shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. You’re the man who understands women.’

‘Understand them? No one understands them.’

‘Maybe not. Can I buy you a drink?’ Snively walked to the bar, pulled out a pipe and shoved it between his teeth. ‘I’d have a little think before you acts with haste.’

‘Think about what? I asked her to marry me. She turned me down.’

‘Happen you’re right. Though I never saw her look so down as when you left the lawyer’s office. Went down on your knees did you? Begged for forgiveness after what you said?’ The older man looked at him sideways and sighed. ‘Too high in the instep for that, I reckon. You a duke’s son and all and her nothing but a base-born child.’

Robert slammed his fist on the bar. Tankards jumped and rattled. ‘That has nothing to do with anything. I offered her my name.’

‘Not good enough, my lord.’ Snively shook his grey head.

‘Drink, sir?’ asked the barman, wiping at the bar in front of Robert with a rag.

‘Brandy,’ Robert said. ‘For two.’

The barman poured and moved away. Robert downed his drink in one gulp. It didn’t make him feel one iota better. ‘What do you suggest, then?’

Snively’s eyes twinkled. ‘If you don’t know, I’m sure I don’t.’

Robert’s fingers curled around his glass. He wished the slender stem was Snively’s neck. ‘Fat lot of help you are.’

‘All right. Why do you want to marry her?’

‘Because it’s the right thing to do.’

‘Empty words.’ The old man turned away. ‘You don’t deserve her. Bugger off.’

He picked up his glass and wandered to the settle by the hearth where he picked up a discarded newspaper and proceeded to immerse himself in its pages.

Robert signalled for another brandy and when it came he stared into its depths. Why else would he want to marry her? He liked her. He felt good when he was with her. Hell, he felt terrible when she wasn’t around.

It was as if they were joined by an invisible thread attached to his heart and the further it was stretched, the more painfully tight it became. Was that what people called love?

He raised the glass to his lips. Then put it down.

Love was romantic nonsense.

Wasn’t it?

What had Mother said—pride and love make bad bedfellows? Was that his problem? Was he too proud?

Or did he fear she’d reject his love, the way Father had?

Which meant taking a terrible risk.

What if he couldn’t have her any other way? What if she met some handsome Italian count and fell into bed with him? Or worse, married him?

She had said she loved him.

How could he offer her anything less?

And if she turned him down again?

At least he’d be able to look at his face in the mirror and not be disgusted by his cowardice.

He glanced over at Snively, who had finished his drink and was now dozing with the newspaper over his face. No help there.

He climbed back up the stairs and let himself in quietly.

The remains of her supper still lay on the table beside the window. She hadn’t eaten more than a mouthful or two. The sight gave him heart. Perhaps Snively was right. She wasn’t happy.

Silently, he tried her bedroom door. Locked. He knocked.

‘I’m finished with the supper dishes,’ she called out. ‘You can take them away.’

Her voice sounded thick and damp as if she’d been crying. A good sign? The tightness in his chest said not.

‘I’ve not come for the dishes,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to make a confession.’

Silence.

‘Frederica, there is one more thing I need to say.’

Frederica stared at the door. When would he stop torturing her? ‘G-go away.’

‘Please, sweetling. It won’t take more than a minute or two.’

Ah, how could she resist the plea in his voice? She wasn’t going to change her mind, though. Whatever he said. Not even if he tied her up and stood her in front of the altar. All she had to do was remain calm. Strong. In control.

She ran to the mirror. Her eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy. She dipped a cloth in the ewer and dabbed at her tear-streaked face.

He tapped on the door. ‘Frederica.’

‘A moment if you please.’

A quick smooth of her gown, an extra pin in her hair. She looked in the mirror and shook her head. He’d know she’d been crying. She fixed a cool smile on her face and opened the door.

He stood a little back from the door, dark, aloof, his face grim. Much as she’d seen him that first day by the river, except in his fine clothes he looked every inch the duke’s second son. Generations of knights lived in his bearing.

Inside, she began to shake.

Did he now hope to force his will on her? The way her uncle had intended with her cousin?

She kept her face calm, politely interested. ‘Lord Robert, back so soon? I really cannot think of anything else that needs to be said.’

‘There is one thing.’ His voice was deep and dark and her insides quivered at the sound; her wicked body yearned for his touch.

‘I’ll hear no more talk of duty and honour. I have neither. Please close the door on the way out.’

She went to the sofa and gazed into the fire’s depths, waiting for the slam of the door.

Instead, she heard his step across the floor as he drew near. She held herself rigid, ready to resist a seduction if necessary, primed herself to be deaf to his words.

A faint rustle and a small thud sounded behind her.

She couldn’t stop herself—she turned to look.

He was on one knee, his head bowed, so that all she could see of him was dark waves of hair and the breadth of his shoulders.

She started to rise.

‘Lady, grant me one boon,’ he said softly. ‘Hear me out.’

She sank back on the seat, too amazed to do more than stare at his lowered head.

‘I am sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I came to you in pride. Now I come to you in humility.’

‘R-Robert, no,’ she whispered. Never had she wanted this proud man to abase himself before her. ‘P-please, get up.’

He didn’t move, didn’t raise his head, didn’t look at her, but knelt before her like some knight of old before his liege, humbled, penitent.

She couldn’t breathe the sight pained her so much.

‘You said my offer wasn’t enough. I thought you meant I wasn’t good enough. It hurt. My pride was hurt. But far worse was the sense of loss deep in my soul. Only when I realised that I stood to lose you forever did I realise my greatest wrong. I offered so little of myself in return for the priceless gift you bring to my heart.’

‘Oh, R-Robert,’ she breathed, unable to believe what she was hearing.

He looked up then and the humility and love shining in his eyes almost sent her to pieces.

She reached out.

He took her hand, kissed the back of it with gentle reverence. ‘It was family pride that kept your parents apart and pride that set me adrift from my family’s love.’

He looked up and gazed into her face. He looked beautiful and sad. ‘Today I walked away too proud to beg for what I needed. I let pride speak instead of saying what was in my heart. Can you forgive me, Frederica, for being such an arrogant fool? If you can, I beg that I may spend the rest of my life trying to win your love. I will abide by your wishes. If you send me away, I will never trouble you more. But I want you to know, I love you with all my heart.’

These were the words she had longed to hear. And the truth shone in his eyes and rang in his voice.

Her heart swelled with joy. And yet how could she let him make such a sacrifice? By marrying her he would be giving up his place in society, possibly in his family, if what she knew of the duke was half true.

She had turned him away because he spoke only of duty; now he spoke of love, but she still wasn’t convinced it was right. She loved him too well to ruin his life.

She was a bastard. Illegitimate. Unwanted. He was the son of a duke.

She would bring him nothing but shame.

Frederica slid off the seat onto her knees and cupped his cheeks in her hands, felt the warmth of his skin and the faint haze of stubble, inhaled the scent of his cologne. ‘Don’t do this.’

‘Ah, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘If you won’t have me as your husband, I’ll come as your servant. You can pay me to carry your bags, arrange for your carriage, keep the damned banditti at bay.’

‘You would do that for me?’

‘I would do that and more to remain at your side. To protect you when asked. To serve when needed.’

Tears blocked her throat and burned the backs of her eyes. ‘And will you bring me chocolate in bed in the morning?’ she whispered huskily.

‘I will.’ He smiled. ‘As long as I get to lie beside you as you drink it.’

‘Oh, R-Robert, are you sure this is what you want? I will never be entirely respectable, you know.’

‘As sure as I am of needing my next breath to live. I

love you, elf. Without you, I’m a shell. An empty husk. It took a while to get it through my thick skull, but without you, I might as well not breathe. You are my life.’

She pressed her lips to his, and his arms came around her. ‘Marry me,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘Please.’

‘Yes, R-Robert. I will.’

He cradled her nape and she dissolved against his lips and his hard body.

‘Here? Or in Italy?’ she asked.

‘Wherever your heart desires, my love,’ he answered and then couldn’t help a soft chuckle, ‘though I am sure my mother will never forgive me if I don’t let her welcome her new daughter-in-law properly. And I would like you to meet my twin.’

‘Then England it is. I find I like your mother very much. I’ll let Snively know.’

‘Later.’

Then there was no more talking because his lips devoured hers and ecstasy carried all thought away.

Three days later, Robert stood on the steps of St George’s in Hanover Square with his wife of five minutes and gazed at the crowds madly cheering him and his bride. It was a cold January day, but inside he felt warm.

When he’d told his parents of his wedding plans, he hadn’t expected such an elaborate affair, but ducal pride required they celebrate in grand style.

It was right. Frederica deserved the homage.

He raised her small hand to his lips. ‘Happy?’ he asked, smiling down at her glowing face.

‘Never more so,’ she answered.

A figure pushed through the crowds and up the steps. Two days’ growth of beard shadowed his jaw, his coat was rumpled, his neckcloth limp. He had his gazed fixed on Robert’s face.

Charlie. Late. Which really wasn’t like him. Their mother had been frantic.

When Charlie reached the top step, he hesitated, then thrust out his hand. ‘Congratulations.’ His expression said he wasn’t sure Robert would take it.

The idiot. He grabbed the large hand and pulled his brother close, slapping him on the back. ‘Glad you made it.’ His voice sounded thick and husky.

His brother pulled away and cleared his throat. ‘I would have been here sooner, but my horse threw a shoe. Had to walk miles for a replacement.’

‘A fine tale,’ Father said, coming up behind them.

Charlie shook his hand. ‘It is true.’

‘Better late than never,’ Robert said with a sympathetic grin at his brother.

Charlie glanced towards Frederica.

‘Let me introduce my wife. Darling, this is my brother Charles.’

Frederica’s eyes widened. Her gaze ran over Charlie and she smiled. ‘You are even more alike than your p-portrait suggests. I would like to paint you some time. You’d make a wonderful Zeus.’

A growl rose in Robert’s throat.

She laughed. ‘Draped in a sheet, R-Robert.’

He grinned and pressed a kiss to her wrist. ‘Fully clothed.’

Charlie’s eyes goggled.

‘Family joke,’ Robert said.

‘Who would have thought you would ever marry?’ Charlie said. His cheeks turned red.

‘I did,’ Mother said. ‘Welcome, my son.’

Charlie enfolded her in a bear hug. In the next moment they were surrounded by the rest of the Mountford clan. His chattering sisters, who’d been bridesmaids, his youngest brother, whose voice gave no sign of breaking for all that he already topped Robert’s chin in height.

It was a good feeling. And Frederica looked thoroughly at home and happy. As she deserved.

The bridal carriage rolled up to the steps.

‘I’ll see you back at Mountford House,’ Charlie said.

‘’Fraid not. We’ve a ship to catch.’

‘To Italy,’ Frederica said.

Charlie looked worried. ‘I need to ask your opinion.’

‘Whatever it is, Charlie,’ Robert said, ‘you’ll have to deal with it yourself

Charlie looked stunned. And just a bit terrified. Robert looked at him. ‘It’s a woman.’

Charlie nodded.

‘Then I definitely can’t help you. I don’t understand them at all.’

He snatched his wife from the bosom of his family and escorted her into the waiting carriage. They waved from the windows until they turned the corner at the end of the street.

Robert pulled her on to his lap and kissed her soundly. After a long while, he let her go.

She snuggled against his shoulder. ‘Your brother really would make a wonderful Zeus.’

‘No.’

She grinned up at him. ‘Then I suppose I must make do with you. Probably better,’ she added hastily at his glare.

He would do. He would do his best to make her believe that for the rest of her life.

‘I love you, sweet wife.’

‘I love you, dear R-Robert.’ She kissed his cheek and wriggled on his lap.

He groaned. ‘How long before we board ship?’

‘An hour, I think.’

It was going to be the longest hour of his life unless he found a way to fill up the time.

He untied the ribbons of her bonnet and tossed the confection aside. ‘That’s better. Now I can see your face.’

She laughed up at him, her pretty lips inviting his kisses.

He cradled her nape and plundered her delicious mouth, and many minutes passed before the need for breath forced him to raise his head. He rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘You are sure this is what you want?’ he asked. It wasn’t so much that he doubted it, he just liked the warmth her confirmation gave him.

‘I can’t quite believe it,’ she said softly. ‘It is as if every dream I ever had has come true. But, R-Robert, are you sure you won’t be bored?’

‘Not a chance. I’ll be too busy keeping you entertained. And naked.’

A laugh bubbled up from her throat. A warm, encouraging sound. ‘I can’t wait.’

Nor could he. He let his hand slide up one slim calf beneath her skirts.

She sighed. ‘But you do realise I will be occupied with classes during the day,’ she said softly.

‘I do.’ He nuzzled her neck. ‘I’ll be busy too. Father has asked me to look at some properties he is thinking of buying. And I’ve some other commissions to undertake for him.’ Robert had been delighted at the request. He could finally play a part in his family’s endeavours.

‘R-Robert,’ she said hesitantly, ‘when we come back, do you think we could buy a house in the country? A place good for raising children?’

His wandering hand stilled. A bubble of hope he never knew resided there tightened his chest. ‘I didn’t think you wanted children?’

‘I didn’t. Before. But now I think I do. We’d be a real f-family. I like the countryside. I could have a studio. You could farm, breed horses, if you’d like to, that is.’ She sounded worried, as if she feared he might not be pleased.

‘Lady Robert,’ he said, laughing, but with his heart full of tenderness, ‘you never cease to amaze me. That is exactly what I would like.’ He tipped her chin. ‘But right now I have the overwhelming desire to kiss you again.’

Looking pleased, she placed her palm against his jaw. ‘R-Robert, did I tell you I love you?’

‘Not in the last five minutes.’

‘Well, I do.’

‘And I love you, elf.’

He kissed her delicious mouth, promising her a future of love and happiness the best way he knew.