The Duke (34 page)

“I wouldn't be happy either,” Brandy said. “Goodness. Tenth?”

As they rose from the table, Ian said, “I remember you complaining about nothing to do. Not even a boil, you told me. Now, if the gentlemen of our acquaintance continue the way they are going, you will find yourself boot-deep in babes.”

They stood on the front steps and waved Edward on his way. Brandy turned her face up to her husband.
He kissed her and kissed her again. His hand lay lightly on her belly. “I love you,” he said, and she touched her fingers to his beloved face. “And I ye, Ian.”

He kissed her again, his hand moving up to lightly touch her breast. He groaned in her mouth. “Just the feel of you,” he said, his breath hot against her lips, “I love to feel you.”

The duke heard Danvers coming close. He cursed under his breath. He removed his hands from his wife's breast. He looked at her mouth and nearly cried. Then, as Danvers grew close to them, the duke turned to look out over the front lawn.

Brandy said in great seriousness, even though her hands itched to touch him, “Ye know, Ian, England simply doesn't have the smell of Scotland.”

“No, there aren't any sheep within miles of here.”

Danvers was nearly upon them. Brandy forced herself to take a step away from her husband, for his hand was hovering near her belly again. “That,” she said, “isn't what I meant.”

Danvers cleared his throat just at the duke's right elbow. The duke said, “That's true, but hear me, Brandy, we do have peacocks, if Danvers allows them to live outside Cook's baking pot. What do you think, Danvers? Do we let the squawkers live another week?”

“It will be close, your grace. Very close.”

Brandy laughed, drawing close to her husband again. He hugged her against his side.

“Life is very nice,” she said. “I'm so glad I decided to marry you.”

“Very nice indeed,” the duke agreed. “If you hadn't married me, I would have thrown you over my saddle and carried you off to some distant island. You didn't have a chance.”

“That's a very nice thought.”

The duke then kissed his wife in front of the Portmaine butler, who didn't bat an eye and who, in fact, had forgotten what it was he'd meant to tell the duke.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's Imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is
http://www.penguinputnam.com