The Heart of the Matter

by Lindsay Armstrong

  But Rob moved at last and said in a low husky voice, 'Come here, my little witch.'

  She went in a flurry of arms and legs, dropping the nightgown and slipping under the covers and into his arms, where she buried her head in his chest and found that her heart was beating most unnaturally.

  Rob said, ‘I hope you mean to go on.’

  Clarissa turned her face slightly but her voice was still muffled. 'Go on?'

  'Mmm. I rather thought you were planning to make love to me in a ... a blaze of passion.'

  'I think I was. Do you mind?' She was still clinging to him rather frantically.

  'Not really,' he said, and she winced at the amusement in his voice. 'Considering,' he added, easing her away from him so that he could look into her eyes and sliding one hand through her hair and the other lingeringly over her bottom, 'that that is exactly what I had in mind for you. But what went wrong?'

  Clarissa lay in his arms and considered, herself. She thought of the nights, the long, lonely nights she had spent in his bed, and how all that had changed now, and how she sometimes felt she just couldn't contain the love she felt for him, it was so great.

  'Nothing went wrong,' she whispered. 'Just my silly inhibitions having ...'

  ‘I love your inhibitions,' Rob interrupted softly against her throat.

  'Oh! Well, I was going to say that they were having

  a final twitch, but if ...'

  'I love the thought of that too,' he interrupted again.

  'Does that make sense?' Clarissa enquired demurely-

  "Possibly not,' he conceded, his mouth sliding down towards her breasts. 'Do we have to make sense, or should we make love instead?'

  'Do I have a choice?'

  'I see what you mean about your inhibitions,' he said, raising his head. 'In fact I can see that right now you're looking very cheeky and positively smug—for someone who was so afraid they would never be any good in bed. And I shall have to do something about that.'

  'Well, I'm ready and waiting,' Clarissa said innocently, and wound her arms around his neck. 'In fact I'm dying slowly inside, of the unrequited desire to be very good in bed!'

  'Show me, then

  She did, with love, some tears of joy and laughter, although she had a lot of help.

  Nine months, three days and seven hours later, Sophie Randall's brother made his hurried entry into the world causing Dr. Forbes to say sternly, 'Now, now, young man, I'm all for a bit of alacrity in these matters, but there's no need to gallop!'

  To which admonition he received a lusty, unaided yell in return.

  And Clarissa, gazing down at her new, dark-haired, definitely cross, impatient-looking son, thought with a leap of her heart—Ian. And Rob, though. I was going to call him Ian, but ...

  It was Sophie who settled the matter. She climbed on to her mother's bed some time later, was given her

  new brother to hold and gazed down at him with obvious delight—and incidentally, he stopped crying immediately—then she said definitely, 'I'm going to call him Billy.'

  'Well,' Rob grinned across at Clarissa, 'that solves that!'

  'William,' Clarissa said slowly. 'William Randall, that's good! William Ian ... Bernard Peter Randall— but I wanted to put in Robert too!' she said perplexedly.

  'William Ian will do,' Rob said firmly. 'We'll have to keep some family names for other sons anyway.'

  'Oh, now you tell me!'

  But later again, when Sophie had been very reluctantly consigned into Mrs. Jacobs' care and William Randall consigned to the nursery, Rob firmly closed the door of the private room, locked it and came back to the bed, where he lay down beside Clarissa, although on top of the covers, and took her into his arms.

  ‘Is this allowed?' she asked softly.

  ‘I don't care if it's not,' he replied. 'Do you?'

  'No. I love you.'

  He held her gently, and she loved that too, because it seemed to infuse strength and warmth into her weary, slightly battered body, i think he's going to be a handful,' she murmured drowsily. 'He has that look about him, William Ian Randall does. But you know, although I might want to wait a while, we could have as many children as you wanted. We could ... start a dynasty. Would you like that, Rob?'

  'Clarry, are you trying to tell me something?' he queried as he stroked her hair.

  She hesitated, not sure how to put into words what

  she was thinking. 'I wondered once what it was you were seeking in life, Rob,' she said slowly, not sure that he would understand.

  But he did, because he said after a long time, 'You were right to wonder. Because I didn't know myself. Now I do and you're right again. Nothing seemed ultimately ... satisfying, I guess, because I lacked a sense of identity, of family. But it's you who have given me that, along with a son and daughter. And if you want to have more children I'll be only too happy to oblige,' he added with a glint of laughter in his blue eyes. Then he sobered and looked down at her lingeringly. 'Just don't ever forget that it all revolves around you, though. That you are the heart of the matter, in other words, my darling Clarry,' he said, and kissed her deeply.