Duel of Hearts
Page 25
Hugh perceived that she was going to throw her arms around her husband in front of them in an unseemly display of affection. Hastily jamming Gil’s hat on his head, he turned him toward the door. “No harm’s done then, I daresay—just did not wish to lose a friend, Tony. Your servant, Lady Leah. G’night. C’mon, Gilbert—we are de trop, I think.”
“I was afraid you would be so angry with me,” Leah admitted, her face against her husband’s shoulder as she heard the door close.
“Angry? How can I be angry? I had already decided that climbing boys were more important than quarreling with a man certain to put a hole in me. Besides, it is comforting to know that there are at least three people who value my skin,” Tony told her. “And now, my love—did you wish to see my speech?”
“I had not finished mine when we were interrupted,” she reminded him.
“Well, as I recall, you were being apologetic and humble.” he prompted her with a devilish gleam in his blue eyes.
“Yes—and ‘tis said that confession does make one feel better, does it not? Besides, I have thought a great deal about what you said earlier today.” She wavered under the warmth of his gaze. “I—I don’t want to reform you— truly I don’t. I like you the way you are—no, no, that is not precisely right—I love you the way you are. There. I have said it. You may storm the citadel whenever you wish,” she finished quickly.
“Alas, but you are too late.”
“Too late? But I—” for a moment, her face mirrored her consternation, and then she perceived he was funning with her. “Tony!”
He nodded toward the desk. “In the morning, my dear, you may begin editing my speech.”
“I do not believe you.” Brushing past him, she went to look. Two separate sets of papers rested on the desk. A quick glance revealed that one of them was indeed a speech on limiting the ages and working conditions of climbing boys. The other was a handwritten draft of a will.
He followed her gaze and saw her wince at the sight of the latter. “I know,” he consoled her, squeezing her shoulder. “It sobered me also—made me think that there are more important matters that need attending between us ere I am ready to cock up my toes.” His eyes twinkled as they met hers and he nodded. “But you will have to edit my speeches, you know, else Max will have me a positively rabid Whig.”
“Morning will be quite soon enough, my lord,” she answered saucily. “Right now, I am more intent on making Papa happy.” Her ringed grey eyes met his and she could not resist adding, “Little Anthony Charles Edward Robert—or Marianna, as the case may be—is already in a fair way to being a rich merchant in Papa’s mind, you know. I think we should attend to that matter first, do you not?”
“That is Anthony Edward Charles Robert, my love,” he reminded her as he began removing pins from her hair. “And I am committed to making him fact.”
Her arms circled his neck and she leaned back to savor the love and desire mirrored in his handsome face. “At least we have four names with which to begin—and Marianna, of course,” she whispered seductively.
For answer, he bent his head to hers, brushing her lips with tantalizing tenderness at first, while his hands twined in her loosened hair. And, as his kiss deepened, she answered it wholeheartedly, responding with an eagerness that matched his, savoring the strong, warm, masculine feel of him, knowing he was the grand passion of her life. There would be battles between them, verbal duels, skirmishes to be won and lost, she knew, but just now there were no words for what she felt for him.
When he raised his head at last and looked deep into her smoky eyes, his own smouldered with the intensity of his desire for her. Wordlessly, he swung her up into his arms and carried her from the room, not bothering to snuff the brace of candles that flickered behind them.
The Fire Series
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