Three months later
Langham Park
The snow that now blanketed the ground had made a surprise appearance last night. A welcomed guest, the frost’s influence could be felt as far as the eye could see. It magnified the peaceful quiet of the park while the brilliant white created a canvas too beautiful to disturb. Even the squirrels had surrendered their ritual scampering dances to protect the serenity of the landscape.
Emma studied the letter from Miss March Lawson in hopes she’d misread what her friend had related. The words stung like a kiss from the winter wind. She glanced about the park trying to make sense of how such a thing could have happened.
The scrunch of footsteps meeting the fresh layer of snow drew her attention to the pathway. Her husband’s long stride cut the distance between them. She tilted her lips at the sight. With his gray greatcoat and tall black beaver hat, his fine figure commanded her attention. She’d never tire of the sight.
“Lady Somerton, imagine finding you here at our special bench?” He took his hat and hit it against his thigh to remove the thin layer of flakes that had fallen on the fur when he passed under an overhanging tree branch. He dipped close and pressed his lips to hers. “Hmm, fresh-air kisses taste the best.”
Though the air was cold, it wasn’t uncomfortable, but the heat from his body permeated her black velvet cloak.
“Come sit for a moment and take in the beauty.” She patted the seat.
Nick slid beside her and pulled her close.
“What?” The intense look on his face was somewhat disconcerting. “Do I have jam on my chin?”
With his gaze never leaving hers, he shook his head. “I’m taking in the beauty.” He leaned close and stole another kiss. “The beauty of my wife.”
“Stop.” Her cheeks heated with his words. “You’re going to start something, and we need to go in soon.”
He caressed the back of her neck. Before his lips touched hers again, he whispered, “Then let’s go inside.”
His sinfully rich voice could make bees leave their hives on a day like today. She certainly didn’t have any greater willpower against his allure.
“I received a letter from March. I’d asked her to help me in the management of the bank, but she declined.” Emma clutched the letter tight. She couldn’t believe what she’d read. “What’s your opinion of fratricide?”
Nick laughed and pulled her close. “What’s William done this time?”
She shook her head. “Amazingly, it’s McCalpin. March informs me she can’t help with the bank. She must work on her brother’s estate, at least until the sheep are sheared. Do you know why?”
Nick played with a loose curl that had escaped from her simple chignon. “No, tell me.”
She took a deep breath. No good could come from her anger, but how she wanted to lock her brother in a room and give him a piece of her mind. Her good opinion of him had transformed into a scathing contempt for his imperious lack of regard. “McCalpin is the new trustee of her family’s trusts and has completely ignored her requests for funds.”
Nick diverted his attention away from the errant curl and devoted it solely to her. “I’ll talk to him and get this straightened out.”
“No.” She waved the letter through the air as if it were a saber. “We’ll both talk to him. The woman turned twenty-five. She’s entitled to those funds. Does he have any idea how hard her life is?”
“Easy, love,” he soothed. “I agree. We’ll handle it together.”
It was one of the many reasons she loved him. He treated her as an equal partner. He asked her opinion on his business and their investments, and even helped her with her own bank.
“Let’s ask Daphne if she’ll help at the bank. She’s always had a mind for numbers,” he offered.
“Excellent idea,” she said. He was absolutely the perfect husband for her.
He gave a satisfied sigh. “I need to get you inside. I don’t want you or the baby to get chilled.”
“I don’t want to go in. It’s too beautiful,” she protested.
“Have you thought of names?” he asked. He left her side and crouched before her. The loss of his warmth was forgotten when she gazed into the heat of his turquoise eyes.
She kissed the tip of his perfect nose. “I thought if we have a girl, we could call her Laura Lena. I think it’s a beautiful—”
He swept her into a kiss that possessed every inch of her. A small flutter in her stomach intensified until she trembled from her head to her toes. It didn’t stop even when he drew back to examine her.
“What a wonderful way to remember my mother and your friend.” The passion in his voice could have melted every snowflake in the park. “That’s a perfect name.”
“I’m happy you like the idea.” Her eyes watered. Having a baby had turned her into a watering pot.
“I’ll escort you inside. The duchess wants to see you.” He pulled her to her feet and clasped an arm around her waist. Slowly, they walked back to Langham Hall with Nick’s tight grip insuring she’d not slip or slide along the entire way.
“I hope the baby is a girl.” He caressed her ears with his lips. “Daring, brave, unpredictable, gorgeous, and filled with love. Just like her mother.”
With a scrunch of her nose, she stopped and turned in his arms. “I’d like to have a girl, too. Next time, shall we try for a boy?” The mischief in his eyes told her he’d enjoy the “trying” part quite a bit.
“It’d be my pleasure.” With his fingers lingering against the tender skin behind her ear, he brushed a curl back. “Perhaps our position determines whether it’s a girl or—”
“Hush, you rogue,” she whispered. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“We won’t know unless we make the attempt.” He waggled his eyebrows as he led her inside Langham Hall.
Emma’s entire family, including Nick’s father, had gathered in the blue salon. A blazing fire in the massive fireplace insured the room was warm. Too warm, in her opinion, so she took a position close to the massive windows that overlooked her park. She leaned against her husband, and he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. His arms encircled her, and his hands rested on her stomach. “I love you.” He caressed her ears with his lips.
She’d never tire of those words. It still gave her the same thrill as it did the first time he said them. “I love you.”
Her father interrupted the festivities as he raised his glass in the air. “Everyone gather round. It’s time to toast our guest of honor this evening.”
She tilted her head to question her father’s choice of words.
“Puss, it’s not you or Somerton. It’s the baby,” the duke laughed.
Nick laughed even louder. Her father didn’t need the encouragement. He’d try to hold the stage for hours if he thought everyone would stay.
“We’re honored this evening to have the Duke of Renton join in this most happy occasion,” her father said. He stepped aside so Renton could take the floor.
Renton cleared his throat, his unease apparent. “May I start the evening by thanking you all for welcoming me into your home and into your family. This means—” Renton cleared his throat again. “To my son and his darling wife. Somerton, you’ve grown into one of the most honorable men I know. I’m proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. Thank you for allowing me to share in this celebration. An old man can die happy.”
Nick nodded his agreement and squeezed Emma’s hand.
There was still a lot of mending left between the two men. Today, they appeared somewhat comfortable with each other. Emma sighed. This was her husband’s family. He truly wasn’t alone anymore.
Renton continued, “To the Countess of Somerton, my darling Emma.” He delivered a warm smile to her. “When I met you, I realized you’d make my son happy and be the perfect mother for my grandchildren, and last but not least, the perfect daughter for me.”
Emma smiled through her tears. It had to be the baby causing all these emotions to tumble out of her control.
“And the perfect, bold wife.” Nick didn’t help when he bent down and whispered in her ear, “Lucky me.”