Page 112 of A Foolish Flirtation

“No,” she corrected him absently. “For I asked Gladys.”

He shrugged. “Most likely she will not wonder about it at all. It is summertime and you have a husband that frequently shares your bed. Either of which might necessitate you needing to wash in the middle of the night. Let’s breakfast in the family dining room,” he suggested in an abrupt change of subject. “We’ll let Wimble and Penrose sit to the formal table without us.”

“What about Teddy?” Emmie asked.

“We can send for Teddy to join us.”

Emmie acquiesced, but when Lottie was tasked with passing on the message, she returned to inform them that Master Teddy had taken an early breakfast in the nursery and had already set off for his lessons at Miss Pinson’s cottage in his pony and trap.

“They must have had plans for an early start,” Emmie commented. “More sketching, do you suppose?”

“Most likely he’s just fired up to start waging his latest campaign,” Jeremy opined dryly. “He will be laying siege to Miss Pinson assiduously until he achieves that end.”

“Which campaign would that be?” Emmie asked with interest.

“Inducing Miss Pinson to invite him to stay overnight at Plumtree Cottage,” he replied with an upward quirk of his lips.

“He will not have to work so very hard for that.” Emmie pulled a face. “Poor Pinky will deny him nothing.”

“She no longer thinks boys are quite so terrifying?” Jeremy enquired.

“No, I don’t think she does,” Emmie mused. “Teddy has apparently cured her of that complaint.”

Jeremy looked rather doubtful. “I only hope he has not lulled her into a false sense of security,” he murmured.

“Which dress will you be wanting this morning, milady?” Lottie enquired. “The new jonquil crepe or the apple green muslin?”

“Your mistress will not require dressing until after breakfast, Lottie,” Jeremy interjected. “We will be dining informally, just the two of us, in our dressing gowns.” He glanced down at his own black and gold creation, and Emmie blushed, realizing they were both entirely naked under their robes.

“Yes, milord. Shall I run down to inform the kitchen?”

“Thank you, yes.” Lottie obligingly disappeared and Jeremy dropped back onto the bed. “Come and lie down here with me awhile, wife.”

“To what purpose, pray?” Emmie asked archly.

“To while away the time until our breakfast is ready.”

“Certainly not. I am going to find my slippers,” she said, crossing the floor to enter her dressing room. She smiled to herself, hearing his indignant splutter behind her. Things were definitely improving. There had been no apology the previous evening for one thing, and no nightshirt for another.

His reaction to her shallow bath had been all she could have hoped for and more. It was true that he had still handled her with the utmost care, almost reverently, she might even say, but she supposed she had rather imposed that role on him with all her talk of goddesses and mortals.

The only thing that troubled her slightly was that he had been fully intent on her pleasure at all times, as though his own hardly mattered. He had been so insistent that she was to be the focus, and she alone. This morning, though, he seemed relaxed enough.

Retrieving her slippers, she reentered the bedroom and sat at her dressing table to try to impose some order on her unruly head of ringlets. Jeremy watched contentedly until Lottie reappeared to take over the attempt. Then he stood up and headed toward the door.

Emmie quickly turned away from the mirror. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“To fetch my slippers,” he explained. “And have a quick wash.”

“You need not go the corridor way,” she told him. “Use the connecting door.” He halted at once, and she threw a quick look at Lottie, who was wholly absorbed in her task. Seeing her warning glance, Jeremy did not utter whatever reply he had been about to make, but he did give her a slow smile before changing his direction at once and heading for the other door.

He was not long. Lottie had just stepped back from dressing Emmie’s hair when he reentered the room. “Shall we?” he asked and promptly escorted her to the private dining room on their own floor. By the time they sat on the cushions at the low table, both a teapot and a coffeepot were awaiting them.

Emmie poured, while Jeremy propped his elbows on the table and watched her with his head tipped to one side. Higgins brought in a tray of assorted dishes and set them down with a short bow. “Excellent,” Jeremy murmured, though Emmie suspected he would eat none of it.

“I have not seen much of Colfax lately,” she commented, passing him his coffee cup. “Higgins seems to be fulfilling all his duties at present.”

“Colfax asked permission to take his two-week leave,” Jeremy explained.