Page 12 of Tall, Dark and December (The Rake Review #12)
EPILOGUE: WEST AND PENNY
WHERE A BEMUSED COUPLE ACCEPTS THE CHALLENGES OF PARENTING
A cozy Highgate cottage, 1821
W est stumbled into the bedchamber, his vision blurred. He’d been up three times already this night, calming the beast. “He’s asleep. Finally . A full belly did the trick.”
His wife peeked from beneath the silk coverlet, her smile a delight he’d savor until his last day. She looked rested and beautiful, her cheeks still retaining a hint of plumpness from her confinement, her hair, an unexpected advantage to being pregnant, thick as ever, a gilded puddle across his sheets.
This vision had been his first wicked dream about her.
Penny rose to her elbow, the glint in her tawny eyes one he recognized. “What’s that grin about? You look positively devilish.”
He yawned and crossed the room, gazing down at the slumbering babe in the bassinet. Love stormed his heart, a battering ram racing right over him. His hand shook when he reached to touch, gently, so as not to wake her. His daughter was the best sleeper in the house. “If I tell you, we’ll end up like we did two days ago, huddled beneath those sheets, making impossibly quiet love for hours.” His cock shifted beneath his drawers, pleading. Lovemaking with Penny was like nothing he’d ever experienced.
He sighed and tunneled his fingers through his hair, wishing he had the energy.
Penny nestled up behind him, her arms sliding around his waist. “I told you a baby and a puppy at one time would be a challenge.”
He trailed his fingertip along the hem of his daughter’s blanket, a gift from Isabella. Hannah had been born a month before Christmastide, so his sister-in-law had decorated the coverlet with intricately stitched holly berries and little green stars. “I had no idea a mongrel would be this much work. But I couldn’t leave George shivering on the post road in the middle of a storm. Plus, you and Isa always wanted a dog.”
Penny pressed a kiss to his back. “You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known. Kind to the ends of the earth except for naming our pet after your first president. The English are aghast at the notion.”
“Sweetheart,” he whispered and turned in the circle of her arms. “I’m not the kindest by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ll take it.”
“Isabella wants him to sleep in her bedchamber.”
He hummed and dipped his head, breathing in the scent of her hair soap. Lemons and lilac, she smelled like a fantasy. “Once he’s trained to do his business outside, he can leave the kitchen. I’m working on it, the rebellious bugger.”
His wife laughed, her round breasts quivering. Another boon to pregnancy. “Isabella or George?”
“She’s fine, quit worrying.” He pressed a kiss to her brow. “The Season went well. Mostly. Who cares if she got into a little tiff with a baron? Women should have more educational opportunities.”
“She hates it,” Penny whispered. “Society isn’t a good fit for the Anstruther-Colbrook girls. Being outspoken and intelligent are curses.”
“Tristan and Camille are taking her riding the next seasonably warm day in Hyde Park. Dukes can erase any minor scandals on one’s blackboard. About the only thing I’ve found a title is good for.”
“They’ve been lovely. And you, delaying your next trip to Philadelphia.”
He hugged her close. “I’m not going without you, without Hannah. The one time I had to go to close up my business there was all I’ll ever do again on my own. The Mint can wait. My latest design is close to being finalized, then we’ll move into production. I have a meeting on Thursday with Lord Davenport. He has the most mining interests in Cornwall and Devon. Any success here will make it easier for me to sell the product there . I haven’t forgotten about those damned screw presses.” He paused, his heart squeezing in his chest. Watching the woman he loved work so much harder in life than a man had to was one of the toughest things he’d ever had to witness. “I’m sorry about the gallery.”
Penny laughed, her breath a heated dance across his skin. “Wes, my paintings are going into John Colnaghi’s studio, which is quite impressive for an untried painter. Does it matter if the artist will be known as William Colbrook?”
“Someday, Penelope Whitaker is debuting, I swear it. He said your work was the finest he’d ever seen from an amateur.”
She gave the skin beneath his collarbone a naughty nip. “Let William have his day. Colnaghi has to make money and a woman’s artwork won’t. I’m content with the plan, for now.”
West rocked back on his heels, rethinking his exhaustion. He glanced at his daughter and the sliver of pinkish dawn fluttering around the drape. He might as well make use of being woken in the dead of night by a hungry canine. “How long do we have?”
Penny smiled and dragged her fingernail down his chest and over his belly. “I have certain things I can do to speed up the process.”
West groaned, the image of her lips closing around his shaft flashing through his mind. She had talent in areas apart from painting. “Leave it to my wife, the soon-to-be-famous artist, to create such a vivid picture in my mind.”
Penny grinned and tugged him toward the bed. “Oh, leave it to her entirely .”