Sex and the Single Earl (28 page)

“How did she—never mind. Go on.”

He flashed a brief smile. “The one thing I did know was that I had to get to your grandparents before word of the scandal reached them. It was your grandmother’s idea to face the gossip head-on. In public, and right where it started. There may be some rumbles for a short time, but when people realize the general and I are behind you, the rumors will die down soon enough. Especially once we’re married.” He grinned. “Which will be soon, I assure you.”

She smiled back, unable to resist the pull of his blatant happiness. The lump in her throat still made it hard to speak, but it lodged there now from joy, not sorrow. There was, however, one thing still troubling her.

“What about Mr. Russell and all your plans?”

He shrugged, truly seeming not to care. “Russell will make his decisions, and I will make mine. You’re all I want or need, Sophie. Not wealth or factories, nor Russell and his damned, disapproving lectures.”

That didn’t sound like the Simon she knew. She pointedly raised her eyebrows.

“Well, I do want the factories, and I will find a way to build them,” he amended. “But it means nothing without you, my love. And it’s taken me much too long to figure that out.”

The joy had moved from her throat to flood her entire body. “Really?”

He cast his eyes to the ceiling in amused exasperation. And stopped. Right in the middle of the dance floor. He threw the whole set out of line, and more than one lady shrieked as her partner stumbled into her.

Sophie gasped as Simon went down on one knee.

“What are you doing?”

“Proposing to you,” he answered solemnly.

He extracted something from his waistcoat pocket, grasped her trembling hand, and eased a simple gold ring onto her finger.

“Sophie Stanton, I love you, and I want to marry you. And I won’t get up off this floor until you agree.”

Her face burned with embarrassment, even though her heart soared into the heavens. “Oh, Simon, you fool. Do get up! Everyone’s staring.”

He looked like he was preparing to stay on his knees all night. “Not until you say yes.”

She grabbed his hands and tugged. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. All right, I’ll marry you—just get up. Before everyone thinks you’ve gone completely mad!”

He laughed and surged to his feet, taking her into his arms and sweeping her down the line.

“Very well, my sweet. God forbid we should cause any gossip.”

Kendlerood House
Manor of the Earl of Trask
January 1816

Simon opened the door to the master bedchamber. The longcase clock in the gallery had just chimed out the midnight hour, but Sophie was awake, propped up in bed in a comfortable shamble of pillows and bed linens and wrapped in a thick wool shawl to keep her warm. Her gold spectacles winked in the firelight. Soft, tumbled curls gleamed the color of flame as she bent her head over the pile of documents in her lap. She looked young and innocent, and oh, so serious.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching her, savoring the quiet satisfaction of knowing she was safely in his bed—in his life. For too long he had been a fool. He had made so many mistakes when it came to her, but she had forgiven him and still loved him. It was a miracle he would never forget.

She looked up and smiled a welcome. And, he hoped, an invitation. He had already taken her three times today, but he rather thought they should do it again. When it came to Sophie, he could never get enough.

He strolled over and sat beside her on the bed.

“It’s good to have the house to ourselves again, isn’t it, Puck?” He took her hand, pressing a kiss into her palm. “I thought that small army of your relatives would never leave.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, because this house is so cramped we all kept bumping into each other. Simon, I still get lost at least once a week, trying to find my way from one end of this pile to the other.”

“Perhaps, but one does grow weary of the bickering between Robert and the general. How Lady Stanton puts up with it is one of life’s eternal mysteries. Besides, I like it best when it’s just the two of us.” He abandoned her palm for the sweet curve of her neck, nibbling his way up to her earlobe.

She giggled and squirmed away from him. “Simon, do stop. I’m trying to work. You’ve made love to me three times today, already. And it was scandalous of you to insist we do it in the small drawing room in the middle of the day. I almost fainted when I heard the general out in the corridor.”

“I thought something else almost made you faint.” He followed her across the bed, trying to push the papers from her lap.

“Not now,” she said.

He sighed, recognizing her tone.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he settled in next to her, leaning against the headboard of the massive tester bed.

Enthusiasm set off amber sparks in her eyes. “These are the plans for the new hospital for women and children in Bath. Mr. Crawford just sent them, along with a list of those who might be willing to donate funds.”

Simon frowned. “Crawford, eh? Writing you again? He seems to take up quite a bit of your time.” Time he wanted her to spend with him, not with same damned earnest cleric.

Sophie gave him a stern look over the top of her glasses. “Simon, don’t be such a looby.”

He grinned, feeling sheepish.

She stroked his chin. “Let me finish reading this letter, then we can talk.”

He arranged a few pillows behind his back and relaxed, content, for now, to let her work. But he had every intention of doing something more than talking as soon as she finished.

When Sophie reached for another sheaf of papers, he clasped her wrist, stroking the coral bracelet that encircled it.

“I’m glad you got your bracelet back, Puck.” He fingered the delicate beads. “I know how much it means to you.”

She went as rigid as a gatepost. His instincts, so attuned to everything about her, woke up. He peered into her face. She looked…guilty.

“Sophie, what’s wrong?”

“Well, about my bracelet, Simon…” Her voice trailed off. She gave him a suspiciously placating smile.

He sighed. “Just tell me now, and get it over with.”

She carefully placed the papers to one side and faced him. She looked as if she was confronting a firing squad.

“I didn’t tell you the exact truth about the theft. It wasn’t my coral bracelet, it was my gold bracelet that was stolen—the Stanton family heirloom. I was taking it to the jeweler’s when Toby snatched my reticule. Becky made him return it to me that night I went to the theater.” The words came out in a rush, as if she’d been bottling them up for months.

Which she had.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She winced at his tone of voice.

Damn.
He didn’t mean to sound so annoyed, but his insides went cold and hollow whenever he thought of the risks she’d taken to recover her bracelet. Now, at least, her seemingly demented behavior in Bath made sense.

“I wanted to,” she said, regret coloring her voice. “But I couldn’t bear what you and the rest of the family would think of me. You all thought me so careless and scandal-prone. I had to find it before anyone knew it was gone. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t tell you.”

Behind the glint of her spectacles her eyes held defiance, and more than a hint of the vulnerability that never failed to tug at his heart.

He pulled her into his arms. “Love, you have nothing to apologize for. The fault is mine. If I hadn’t been such an ill-tempered prig, you would have trusted me enough to ask for help.”

She snuggled against him, a sweet little package of femininity. His rampant desire to protect her—never far from the surface—came up in a rush. As did something else, responding eagerly to the press of her soft breasts and slim hips against his hardening body.

He rolled her onto her back. “But no more secrets, Sophie. I mean it. If I find out you’re holding anything back from me I’ll have to punish you.”

She smiled, a wicked curl of mischief shaping her plush mouth. “And how do you intend to carry out your punishment, my lord?”

“I have many ways, my lady,” he growled, tickling her ribs.

She howled with laughter and swatted his hands. Their tussle soon evolved into another kind of play, the best kind of play for adults.

After a time—a very happy time—he eased out of her and lay back, tucking her against his side. She had worn him out, but he still couldn’t resist letting his hand drift over her breasts, down her sides, over her smooth belly—

He craned his neck to look down at her body.

“Sophie, is it my imagination or are you getting plump? You did eat quite a lot of sweets over the holidays, as I recall.”

She pinched his arm. “Simon, you beast!”

“Ouch. Madam wife, I swear you turn me black and blue.” He levered himself over her, nuzzling the scowl from her face with a kiss. “Sophie, I would love you even if you grew to be as large as Jack Spratt’s wife.”

“No one would ever mistake you for lean, at least down there,” she grumbled, wriggling underneath him. Predictably, his staff twitched to life.

He made his way down her body, kissing the gentle swell of her belly. “You’re even softer here, and down here, too. I like it.” He let his hands wander.

She gasped. “Simon, I have another secret to tell you.”

He stilled. “A good or a bad one?”

“I think it’s a good one.” She hesitated. “I’m with child.”

Something popped in his head, and then it filled up with a feeling as fizzy as champagne bubbles. He surged up her body.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Quite sure.”

He captured her face in his hands, staring into eyes that gazed back at him with perfect trust and perfect love. He didn’t know if his heart could hold so much happiness without bursting, but he had a whole lifetime with Sophie to find out.

“Now,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Isn’t that much nicer than a pile of nasty old coal?”

He wanted to laugh, but joy squeezed his throat.

“It’s nicer than anything,” he managed.

And he meant every word.