Page 23 of Pride of Valor
“Why?” She scrabbled and pushed at him with her hands.
“I’m in charge now. If you will not be my wife, then you will have to play by my rules.”
“And those would be?”
“First of all - you will’na break my heart. I won’t allow it.”
“Wha…?” He stopped her argument with another long kiss.
When he finally surfaced to breathe, he added, “Secondly—there will be no bairns.”
“You’ve been drinking at the altar of Lord Sidmouth Almighty,” she accused. “And furthermore, I’m ancient. It’s highly unlikely there would be bairns no matter what we do.”
At that, Richard snatched the blanket around himself and stood. “Tell me this. Just how old does a dowager marchioness have to be before she’s considered ‘ancient?’”
She sat up and tried to pretend all of her considerable assets were not on splendid display for his pleasure. She mumbled an answer to his tactless question.
“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.”
“Twenty-seven,” she spat out.
He threw back his head in laughter, stopping finally to say, “When my mother was twenty-seven, she had the birthing of five more of my obnoxious brothers ahead of her.”
“When did she finally stop having children?”
“I have no idea, because after leaving my Da with eleven of us, she took off for Paris with his best friend, a fellow officer from the regiment.”
“How awful for all of you. What did your father do?”
“He took the cart, gathered up his spinster sister’s belongings, and brought her back to County Meath to finish raising us hellions while he was forever off with his regiment on the King’s business.”
“He never tried to bring her back?”
Richard gave her an odd look. “Saints preserve Ireland…why would he do something wrong-headed like that?”
“Didn’t he love her?”
“He certainly did.” Richard paused and stole another deep kiss. “Problem was, she didn’t love him.”
When she sucked in a breath as if to launch another argument, he cupped one of her breasts and began tenderly licking around the aureole before capturing the nipple and sucking deeply. She moaned and lost track of what she’d planned say next.
If Richard kepta journal where he checked off personal triumphs, today’s page would have been full of flourishes. The most happy and loved woman on Bocollyn Estate that day hummed a tune while she tidied the cottage kitchen and stowed the provisions she’d brought from the lodge.
After he’d finally silenced all of her complaints about his “rules” for love, he’d so thoroughly pleasured her for the last hour that she’d given in to a deep sleep on the rug over the uncomfortable stone floor. He’d had to jiggle her awake before Thorne returned with his crowd of walkers. After re-assembling her hair and attire as often as he had, and intended to do so in the future, he could probably work as a lady’s maid if this Marine occupation didn’t work out.
As it was, Richard had barely folded the blanket and returned it to the shelf when he heard Bert’s tell-tale brays. They’d all converge back on Rose Cottage within minutes.
Nicholas, as usual, was the first one through the door, closely trailed by his two muddy, canine cohorts. “Mama, you won’t believe what’s happened while we’ve been gone from the lodge…” Thomas footman was close behind the trio and gave the boy a stern look. “Oh,” Nicholas added. “We’re supposed to wait for Captain Thorne to tell you.”
At that cryptic message, Harriet raced out of the kitchen. “What? What has happened? Tell me now, for heaven’s sakes. Don’t wait.”
At that, Thorne finally crossed the cottage threshold. “Sorry. I had to give Bert his oats. Your Nana’s gone missing again, but don’t worry, Lady Harriet,” he said. “Sidmouth has everything under control.”
Harriet rolled her eyes and hung a kettle full of water to boil on the hob in the fireplace.
His Grace,the Duke of Sidmouth, ran his hands through his hair and bellowed into the evening air, “Why? Why me?”
Next to him, Nana, without warning, shifted into one of her rare moments of lucidity. “Sidmouth—you simply must stop behaving like a fishmonger when we’re out in polite society. No one will invite us to any of the better events when we’re in town. Couldn’t you reserve that tone of voice for when you’re arguing a point in the House of Lords?”