"He may come and visit," Garth said grandly. "There's room for all."
"You'll have to build a very large house," I told him, "to accommodate ten children and a host of in-laws."
He waved his hand. "Anything you like, Elise. Fifty rooms? A hundred? Ah, it will be good to see Philippe again. Perhaps he would like to come with us to America when my duties here are finished. We'll find him a wife, a good strong Creole girl, perhaps. I was sorry to hear about Honoré. He was a good lad. Hot-headed, of course, like his sister, but he meant well."
I halted and glared at him. "Where—how did you hear about Honoré?"
"Oh, your Uncle Theo is a most amusing correspondent," he said. "I know everything. Philippe's arm. How splendidly Françoise and Savannah are getting along, and Savannah's marriage. The only thing he didn't tell me about was our lad here. I think he meant that to be a kind of coup de grace. It was Theo Lesconflair's revenge."
"Well!" I felt myself growing red. "Of all the—the duplicity! The arrogance of you men! How dare you scheme against me? How dare you!" I tried to shrug off his arm but he held me tight. "Oh, you men are villains. I can see it all now. The Diana painting. I suppose it hangs in a place of honor in your bedroom?" He laughed and nodded. "The odd looks I've been getting all morning, and the strong hints about marrying to give Etienne a father. And even Etienne, insisting that his Papa was coming today! They expected you, didn't they? Everyone knew about it but me. Why, you don't even have a satchel, or any kind of traveling bag. Liar! London, indeed. Oh!" I didn't know if I should laugh or cry, but I didn't have to decide. He put his arms around me and kissed me deeply.
"I wouldn't be surprised if your parish priest is waiting for us when we get back," he said softly, between kisses. "I told Theo that I wouldn't be responsible for what would happen if we didn't marry very soon. It would be a shame if Stephen's brother had to be conceived out of wedlock, too."
"Oh, you're very wicked," I scolded him gently. I pressed close to him, loving the familiar lean hardness of his body, the new tenderness in his manner, the lack of tension between us. He had changed since I saw him last. Garth McClelland had learned to love.
"You know," he murmured, "we could distract the child somehow and—"
I nodded past him to where Stephen and the horse were ambling away from us with unbecoming speed. "I think he is taking care of that himself," I said.
"Papa! Mama! Look at me!" Our son squirmed around in the saddle and waved at us. "No hands!"
"Mother of God," Garth breathed angrily, "when I catch that little monkey I'm going to warm his backside!"
Racing after them he pulled the horse up and lifted the boy high into the air. Stephen shrieked with delight.
"Well, my lad, so you like adventure, do you?" He lowered his son to his shoulder and looked at me. "I shall teach you about adventure, then, and your mother will teach you about love. She's the expert."
Garth stretched out his hand to me. I took it and held it to my cheek for a moment, brushing away a little tear that fell on it. Then Garth passed our son to me and took hold of the horse's reins, and we all went out of the gathering gloom of the forest into the brightness of the afternoon sun.
* * *
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Savage Surrender Page 55