Page 79 of Wedding the Widow

Smothering a smile, she appeared to think about it. “I think that can be arranged, my love. If you are very sure, I think we may manage it.” She hugged him before he ran to his bed, jumped into it, and flung the covers over his head.

“One moment,” she whispered to Jemmy before heading into Nanny Field’s room. She gave orders to Nanny about waking the children in the morning, then returned and took her beloved by the hand, leading him out of the nursery. “You just made two huge conquests and have been invited to join the family. What possessed you to come up here? You would have met them tomorrow; then you wouldn’t have been quite so rumpled.”

As if he’d just realized his appearance was anything other than perfect, he held out one creased arm of his coat and tsked. “Fellowes can put me to rights in ten minutes before dinner. I found myself with some time to spare before dinner, and I was curious about the children.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to introduce us, but I am glad I made a favorable impression. Kate is going to be a beauty, just like her mother.” He took her arm. “And Colin has a very sharp mind—he was immediately thinking strategy as the embattled dragon.”

“Then you like them?”

“Very much.’ He patted her arm. “And soon we will have our own as well.” A quiet look at the empty corridor, and he stopped, putting his arms around her. “As many as we like.” He smiled, joy in his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind a houseful as long as they take after their mother,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

“I would like the boys to look like their Papa.” Breathing deeply, Elizabeth leaned her head back, baring herself more openly. He caressed the curve of her throat, sending tingles down to her core. “Curly blond hair, blue eyes, and ears that turn pink, so we’ll know when they are fibbing.” Lord, he made her want to abandon herself right here in the hall.

“We will see if that can be arranged.” Continuing to kiss his way across her neck, he turned and went up behind her ear.

Shivers wracked her, then she flushed with desire.

He walked her backward until her bottom hit the wall, and he pushed himself against her, settling into the V of her legs as though he was a missing part of her. “I would say we could start now, but we already have.”

Seizing her lips, he thrust his tongue into her, and the heat exploded all over her.

She relaxed into his arms, drinking him in as their tongues tangled. With an effort, she slid heavy arms around him, pulling him closer, urging him to give her more. Was there an unoccupied room on this floor?

A floorboard creaked, and Jemmy leaped back.

Panting to catch her breath, Elizabeth peered first one way, then the other down the corridor, but no one appeared. With a groan, she pushed herself away from the wall and took Jemmy’s hand once more. His touch still seared her, but the sudden fright of discovery had cooled her ardor for the moment. “Let us go repair ourselves before we join the others.” She eyed Jemmy, whose cravat was coming loose and jacket hung slightly askew. She suspected she looked rather frowsy herself. “At least once we are married, we won’t have to sneak about so much.”

Jemmy chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously, and tucked her arm into the crook of his. “My love, that is part of the fun.”

* * *

Christmas Day seemed a gay party to Jemmy, whose remembrances of Christmas from his youth were rather austere in comparison. At Blackham Castle, the day was kept with good food and drink, presents for the staff, and, when he and his brother and sisters were young, toys for them as well. The celebration he witnessed at Worth House, however, was extravagantly lavish to say the least.

Presents after breakfast brought squeals of delight from the children, and oohs and aaahs from their elders as well. Elizabeth’s sisters seemed well pleased with their gifts, and rushed to try them on and display them. Her parents were equally complimentary, and Jemmy smiled when Lord Worth quietly retreated to a corner chair with the first volume of Tales of My Landlord in his hand.

Later that morning, he and Elizabeth had stolen a few moments of their own to exchange gifts. He’d been thrilled when he’d managed to surprise her with a garnet necklace and matching earrings. Her shining eyes, as she asked him to fasten it around her neck, had touched his heart deeply. That this woman’s merest glance would delight him for the rest of his life at last began to sink into his mind, and a contentment he’d never experienced before sent a hush through him.

In turn, he’d been amazed when she’d presented him with a gold watch fob, engraved with the initial B in a flourishing style. “That letter B will serve you both now and later,” she’d whispered as she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. When she’d had time to secure his present he had no idea, but he was now convinced the woman was a marvel at efficiency.

Those stolen moments had been few that day as the family continued with what were obviously their accustomed Christmas Day activities. After presents, they had all bundled up and walked three blocks to a Punch-and-Judy Show. The crisp air had done nothing to dispel the crowd gathered around the puppet booth, and Jemmy and Lord Worth had been obliged to lift the children up on their shoulders so they could see. The twins thought this marvelous fun and squealed with delight at their vantage points. A brisk walk back home, in the nick of time to avoid his toes freezing clean off in his boots, ended with a glass of hot rum punch, another family Christmas tradition, he’d been told. They made merry at dinner as well, with the children joining them for crackers and a snapdragon, everyone shouting and laughing as they snatched at the burning raisins.

“When we are married,” Jemmy remarked, having paused from kissing Elizabeth beneath a sprig of mistletoe, “every Christmas will be just like this one.”

Boxing Day brought its own style of hilarity. Lady Wentworth served Tawes tea, Lord Wentworth drove the female servants a turn in Hyde Park, and that evening, at the Servants’ Ball, Jemmy danced with Mrs. Cates, the housekeeper, while Elizabeth partnered a bright-red-faced Fellowes, who had turned up midafternoon with Jemmy’s trunks from Lyttlefield Park.

The morning of December 27 dawned at last, crisp and cold, with a few random flakes of snow in the air. Jemmy bounded down the stairs, hurrying a trifle and pulling at the sleeves of his gray suit, freshly pressed by Fellowes. Jemmy could have wished for no better Christmas present than the return of his valet. He’d just left the man glowing with praise for his timely entrance yesterday, and a newly minted half-guinea as a token of his appreciation.

Unfortunately, Lady Wrotham’s ten pounds had decreased alarmingly over the holiday, but he patted his breast pocket, Elizabeth’s gold ring always on his person. It had cost him dearly, as it should. Now he knew of her penchant for jewelry, once he inherited his mother’s fortune, he would dress her in pearls or diamonds, if she preferred them. For now, however, they would be happy with this small token of his undying love.

He signaled a footman and left orders for his horse to be brought around, then strode into the breakfast room, where everyone had congregated save Lord and Lady Wentworth.

“Good morning.” He addressed the company with a pleasant smile, then turned to the business of heaping his plate full of sausages and potatoes from the warming pans lying companionably side by side. “I trust you are all recovered from yesterday’s unaccustomed work?”

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my lord.”

“Good morning, my love.” The last came from Elizabeth, seated at the head of the table, eyeing him brightly.

He grabbed silverware and quickly claimed his place to her right.