The Magic of I Do

by Tammy Falkner

  Claire still wore his dressing gown from the night before, and she belted it more tightly around her waist. But then she caught her reflection in the looking glass and unbelted the robe, slid it from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She stood in front of the full-length mirror and turned to the side. Her breasts were bigger than before. She hefted them in her hands and glared at herself.

  Her stomach was slightly rounded, but it wasn’t overly large and she could probably go about in society for a few more months before she had to go into seclusion.

  A knock sounded at the door and Claire jumped, sliding back into Finn’s dressing gown. “Come in,” she called, when she was tucked back beneath the counterpane.

  Sophia opened the door and stepped through it, and behind her was their mother. “Good morning,” Sophia chimed. She took in Finn’s bedchamber as she walked into the room. “It seems a little odd to be visiting you here.”

  Claire chuckled. “It’s a little odd to be here.”

  “Well, I suppose you can’t leave, since the physician told you to stay in bed for a sennight,” Claire’s mother chimed.

  “A sennight?” Sophia asked. “Goodness whatever did you do to yourself? Did you twist your ankle? Did you hit your head? Do you have a stomach ailment?” She felt Claire’s forehead with the back of her hand.

  Claire grabbed for her hand. “I’m fine, really.”

  “Well, you can’t possibly be fine if you have to stay abed for a week.” Sophia regarded her skeptically.

  “I’m going to call for a tray,” her mother said. “Have you eaten anything yet?”

  Claire yawned. “I just woke up, actually.”

  Her mother slipped out of the room. Sophia pulled a chair closer to the bed and hissed, “Are you all right? Lord Phineas was at the Hall when I left, and he looked like he had a difficult night.”

  Claire snorted. “I imagine finding out you have a child on the way is a difficult way to spend the night.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Sophia said, dropping her face into her hands. “I thought you were going to pretend it wasn’t so.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “I listened outside Ashley’s study, if you must know.” She smiled a fearless grin. “Old habits die hard.”

  “So, Finn went to confess all to Robinsworth?” That could not have gone well.

  Sophia nodded. “He fears for your safety, apparently. And so do I.”

  Footsteps sounded in the corridor and Sophia raised a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Mother is coming.”

  The door opened and Lady Ramsdale stepped back into the room. “I asked the servants to put together a tray.” Then her shoulders slumped in defeat and she groaned. “For heaven’s sake, Claire, please tell me you’ve told her. The suspense is killing me.”

  “Told her what?” Claire asked innocently.

  “Told me what?” Sophia jumped to her feet. “Someone will tell me right this moment what is wrong!”

  Claire’s mother’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Then both girls began to laugh. Sophia rolled onto the bed and held her stomach tightly, she was laughing that hard. “I already know, Mother. It’s all right.”

  Lady Ramsdale picked up a pillow and tossed it at them. “The two of you should be ashamed. Teasing your mother like that.” Her eyes shimmered with what appeared to be delight. “Are the two of you close?” she asked as she sat down in the chair Sophia had placed beside the bed.

  “I tolerate her pretty well,” Claire said. “When she’s not being shrewish.”

  “I’m never shrewish.” Sophia put her hands on her hips and protested. “Now that I’m a duchess, I have to behave myself.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Claire said with a laugh.

  But they both froze when they realized their mother’s eyes were misting with tears.

  “We do like each other,” Claire said quickly at the same time Sophia said, “We’re great friends.”

  “I just can’t believe I have you two back. And that I’m about to be a grandmother.” She wiped a tear from her cheek.

  “How did you find out? About the baby?” Sophia asked of their mother.

  “I sent for her last night, when things weren’t going well.”

  Sophia almost looked hurt for a moment. “You could have called me.”

  “I was afraid you would tell your husband.”

  Sophia sighed heavily. “I probably would have.”

  “But now you are relieved of keeping my secret since Finn is there unburdening himself already.”

  A footman entered the room with a tea tray and set it up on the bedside table.

  “Will you pour?” Claire asked Sophia.

  “Of course,” she said as she picked up the teapot.

  Claire reached for a biscuit.

  “What went wrong last night?” Sophia asked, looking up from beneath lowered lashes as she poured tea. Their mother sat quietly at the bedside.

  “Bleeding,” was all Claire said.

  “Is everything all right?” Sophia put down the teapot to glare at her.

  “Fine, according to the physician.” She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “You should have seen Finn’s face. He tried to convince me it was my menses. He was so sensible about the whole thing.”

  “How long did that last?”

  Claire’s mother interjected. “Until she confessed. Then he looked like he’d been knocked over the head with an anvil.”

  “He was rather surprised.” Claire heaved a sigh. “I just hope he doesn’t hate me.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible,” her mother said. “I went to talk to him about it last night. I wasn’t leaving until I knew he was calm and reasonable.” She ate the edge off a biscuit. “And he was already calm and reasonable. And giddy.”

  Sophia looked at her again, a sly grin crossing her lips. “So, what were you doing when the bleeding started?”

  Heat crept up Claire’s cheeks again. “What do you think we were doing?”

  “I take it Lord Phineas knows his way around the bedchamber,” Sophia asked.

  “Lord Phineas knows his way around everything,” Claire confessed.

  Their mother wiped a tear from her cheek again.

  “Are you all right?” Claire and Sophia both asked at the same time.

  “Ignore me. I’m just happy to get to be here at this point in your lives.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “That’s all.”

  “So, what scares Lord Phineas the most? He honestly sounded like he feared for your safety. Something about Mayden?”

  “The earl?” their mother asked.

  “The murderer. He killed Ashley’s first wife.” Sophia shook her head sadly. “She wasn’t a very good person, but Mayden had convinced her that she loved him. And then Mayden threw her from the turret of the castle when things didn’t go his way. Ashley has always felt responsible for it.”

  “And last week he killed the modiste, who he just happened to believe was me. So Finn is worried for my safety.” She told them that story, and they listened intently. The three of them lived for these kinds of things. At least they had that in common. Once a mission faerie, always a mission faerie.

  Twenty-Nine

  Finn arrived home so late that Claire was dozing in the bed. He walked quietly over to the bed and looked down at her. Her strawberry blond hair was plaited over her shoulder, and her nightrail was open at her throat. He had a sudden and nearly overwhelming desire to place his lips there.

  Finn bent over to tug off his boots, and then divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, but she stirred when he put his watch down because it made a soft noise.

  She stretched tall, her arms over her head. Then she smiled at him. “Did you just get home?”

  “Sorry I woke you,” he said softly.
Damn, but she was beautiful. She was sleepy eyed and looked soft as cotton. He wanted to grab her and never let her go.

  “I’m not,” she said with a smile as she sat up. “Where have you been?”

  He pointed to a trunk he’d placed on the floor by the bed. “Your father sent you a present.”

  “My father knows where I am?” She looked frantic. And scared.

  “Your father thinks you are spending time with Sophia and Robin this week.”

  She relaxed perceptibly. “Thank goodness.”

  He sat down on the side of the bed and looked down at her as he pulled off his cravat. “Are you worried about what your father will think?”

  She shrugged, but he could tell she was bothered by it. “A little,” she finally admitted.

  “It can’t be changed now,” he said drolly.

  “I wouldn’t change it if I could.” She looked directly into his eyes as she said it.

  “You wouldn’t push it back a few months? To lend it some respectability?” He watched her closely. She didn’t even flinch.

  “No.” Her eyes narrowed. “Would you?”

  “If I had it to do over again, the only thing I would do differently is that I would have tied you to me that first night. So I could have enjoyed the last few months with you.”

  “Have you eaten?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Neither have I,” she said.

  “What?” He jumped to his feet. “Why haven’t you eaten yet? That’s not good for the baby.”

  She laid a hand on her belly. “The baby is fine,” she said softly. “You’re happy with the idea of a child?” she asked.

  He leaned forward and kissed her softly. She tasted like sunshine and sleep. Like she was his. Like she was perfect. He drew back with a groan. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  “Where have you been?” she asked again. “Why so late?”

  “I was with Robin, trying to figure out what we’re going to do about Mayden.” He pulled his shirt out of his waistband and picked up the small trunk her father had sent. He sat it on the edge of the bed. “That’s from your father.”

  Then he walked away to call for some food.

  When he came back, Claire was poking at the box. “I feel certain there’s no snake in it,” he said with a laugh.

  “Our kind uses boxes to hold memories.” She took a deep breath, as though weighing her words. “I hate to say it, but I don’t want to know what the memories felt like for them. I like the way things are right now. I want to get to know them from now forward. I don’t want the past, except to say that it made me who I am.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He lingered there, his lips pressed against her skin. She raised her hand to brush the stubble on his cheek, so he dipped his head quickly and scrubbed his chin in the sensitive skin of her neck. She squealed and shoved at him, laughing.

  He pushed the box farther toward her. “Open it,” he said.

  Tentatively, she flipped the latch that held the box closed and lifted the lid. Then she smiled, and it was a smile so beautiful and so perfect that he smiled with her.

  “He thought you might need something to do while you’re under the weather.”

  “He thinks I’m sick?”

  “He thinks you have a stomach ailment or something.”

  “I wonder if he’ll be angry at Mother when he finds out the truth.”

  “I think he’ll probably be angry at all of us.” Finn chuckled. He wanted to chuckle about it now while he could. Because when Ramsdale found out Finn had impregnated his daughter, there would be hell to pay. “What did he send for you?”

  “Paint. Brushes. Parchment.” She reached in and retrieved jars of paint. “I helped him make some of these.” She grinned.

  “There are canvases too. I’ll have someone bring them inside.”

  “He thought of everything.”

  “I’d say that he knows you very well for a man who just met you.”

  She nodded, a ridiculously charming smile on her face.

  “What are you going to paint?”

  He narrowed her eyes and looked at him, her eyes running up and down his body.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said, biting back a laugh.

  “I can’t paint you?”

  “After the doctor says you’re well, you can paint any part of me that you want.” He leaned forward and kissed her quickly. To do more would be akin to suicide. Unjust and painful.

  “Would you let me paint you?” She touched his throat just below the open vee of his shirt with the soft tip of a paintbrush. “I could write my name on your chest.”

  ***

  His voice was raspy when he replied. “You already wrote your name on my heart, darling.”

  His words hit her like a team of runaway horses. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I never did listen to instructions very well.”

  Her heart leaped. Finn pulled the counterpane from where she had it tucked beneath her armpits. “Finn!” she protested, laughing.

  “How’s my son or daughter?” He laughed as she scurried to cover herself back up. “Have you forgotten that I have seen all of you? I have no idea what you think you’re hiding from me. When you’re better, I plan to kiss every part of you.” He began to ruck her nightrail up her thighs. “Every single bit.”

  Heat struck directly between her thighs. “Finn,” she complained, warmth creeping up her cheeks. “You shouldn’t say such things. It’s not proper.”

  He chuckled. “Since when did you care about proper?”

  “Never,” she admitted. “But it sounded like the right thing to say at the time.”

  He tossed his head back and laughed. He threaded his hand into the hair at the back of her head and pulled her toward him. He kissed her softly, so softly it was almost painful. “God, I love you,” he whispered.

  “I warned you not to do that,” she teased.

  He sobered at her words. “I can’t help it. Don’t expect me to.”

  He needed for her to say it back. But she’d rather wait for the right time. She didn’t want to say it just because he did. She loved him to distraction, but she wanted her confession about it to be spontaneous. And real.

  “What did you and Robinsworth decide to do about Mayden?”

  Finn sat back, his eyes suddenly mirroring how serious he was. “We’re going to beat him out of the bushes, I think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Between Robin and myself, we have bought up almost all of Mayden’s outstanding debt. It’s time to call in his markers.”

  “Won’t that make him a little desperate?” It’s what she would have done, but she still worried about what Mayden’s reaction would be.

  “We hope so.” He looked down at her nightrail and started to push it up over her knees again. “Where were we?” he said with a laugh.

  “You weren’t there. You were professing your undying love for me.”

  “No, that distracted me for a moment. Now I want to say good night to my daughter.” He pushed her nightrail up over her thighs. She pushed his hands back down as he got to the top of her thighs.

  “Finn! That’s indecent.”

  “Lady,” he warned playfully, tugging against her grip. “I have seen you naked. I have seen you beneath me. I have seen you on top of me. I have seen you come at my fingertips.”

  Her sheath clenched.

  His voice dropped down to a whisper. “And as soon as you’re better, I’m going to make you come with nothing but my mouth.”

  “Your mouth?” she croaked.

  “My mouth,” he whispered back playfully.

  She was so distracted that he pushed her nightrail up over her thighs, exposing her
curly hairs to his gaze. He licked his lips and threw the fabric up over her belly.

  She closed her eyes and refused to look at him. She was completely mortified.

  “I’ll come up there if it’ll make you feel better,” he said, coming to lie with his head next to her belly. It was better than having him right there. “Better?” he asked.

  “Better,” she said with a sigh. “There’s no deterring you, is there?”

  He grinned. “No.”

  Her stomach was slightly rounded, and he ran his fingertips over her skin softly. “My daughter is in there,” he said quietly.

  “Or son.”

  “I want a daughter first. So, I can kill any bastard who tries to sleep with her before he marries her.”

  “I don’t think you get a choice,” she reminded him. His hand was flat on her stomach, and he just let it lie there as he looked up at her.

  “I’ll make you happy, you know?” Finn said.

  He covered his hand with hers. “You already do.”

  Suddenly, he shoved her nightrail up even higher, exposing her breasts. He cupped them in his hands, looking down at them reverently as he licked his lips. “Good God, they’re perfect.” He plumped them with his hands and suddenly said, “The first time I touched them, I don’t think they fit my hands this well.” He shifted, his fingers spreading to cup her more closely.

  “Look, I can barely fit them in my palms.” He wasn’t being silly. He was completely serious. And he was enjoying exploring her body. All of it. He leaned down and kissed her nipple. Then did the same with the other. “Call the coach bound for Bedlam. Because I might go mad waiting for you to get well.”

  He dropped down beside her and lay on his back, his arms thrown over his head. She rolled to face him. “You don’t mind if I sleep in here with you tonight, do you?”

  She laughed. “I would be offended if you didn’t.”

  “I just want to hold you. All through the night.”

  “That can be arranged.” She tugged her nightrail back down to her knees.

  “How do you feel? All right?”

  “I feel fine,” she said. And she did. She felt like she could leap mountains. Like she could scale tall walls. Like she could fall in love.