Page 21 of Curves for the Silver Fox Duke

“I know,” he answered. But his hand didn’t move.

“Rosamund arrives tomorrow, along with Cece and Oliver. Brace yourself for an incorrigible set of twinsandanother duke. As if one wasn’t enough.”

He laid back alongside her, his gaze going to the eggshell-blue sky. “How goes your father’s tasks for his daughters?”

Georgiana brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “A red envelope arrived last week to my brother’s home. Rosamund won’t tell me her task. She can be mysterious and entirely unhelpful.”

“Your task brought us together,” he said with solemn reverence.

Georgiana’s smile softened. “Then I shall never question my father’s methods.”

“Nor I,” Ren murmured.

A shout broke across the lawn.

“Mama! Mama, did you see?”

Henry came racing toward them, mallet abandoned somewhere behind him, all loose limbs and triumph. Ren pushed up at once, bracing as the boy collided into him, catching him easily and hauling him close.

“I struck it true,” Henry declared, breathless. “All the way across.”

“Did you?” Ren said, his voice threaded with pride. “Then you’ll have me beaten before the week is out.”

Henry beamed, then turned immediately to Georgiana, climbing half into her lap with reckless attachment. “Mama, you must watch next time.”

“I always watch,” she said, smoothing his hair, her gaze lifting briefly to Ren’s.

Always.

Ren’s gaze found hers and lingered, quiet and sure, as Henry’s chatter filled the space between them. And Georgiana, with her husband beside her and their son held close, knew she would not trade a single piece of it—the life they had made, imperfect and full, and wholly their own.