Page 5 of Wizard of Most Wicked Ways

He shrugged. “You didn’t seem to mind when I gave it to you.”

Her eyes bugged at him. Her dear, terrible husband didn’t make her blush nearly as much as he once did, but he still managed to shock her with pure audacity alone.

Glancing over her shoulder to ensure there were no eavesdroppers or small fingers that might get caught in the door, Hulda stepped into the room and kicked the door closed with her heel. “At the very least, you could have alerted me before I left the house this morning! Miss Steverus acted oblivious, but surely she knew what it was! She had to lend me her chemisette!”

Merritt burst out laughing. “Oh dear.”

After closing the distance between them, she smacked his shoulder. “I’m relieved you find the situation sojocular.”

Merritt took her hand, moved it out of the way, and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “I’m sorry, love. I honestly didn’t notice it. You know I pay attention to other things when you’re getting dressed in the morning.”

His charms alleviated her humiliation a fraction. She tried to thwack him again, but his grip tightened, stalling her.

“AndEllis overwhelmed her diaper, if you remember. Kept me a bit busy.”

The logic wound her down to a reasonable level. Straightening, Hulda took a deep breath. Ellis wriggled against her, waking. “I ... do recall that. But still.”

With his other hand, Merritt brushed his thumb over the stain on her neck. “I’ll aim lower next time,” he offered. Then, grinning, added, “Or I can give you one on the other side to even it out.”

She snorted, half in anger, half in amusement. “Add a few in between, and I’ll convince Miss Steverus you tried to hang me.”

Leaning down, Merritt pressed a kiss to the mark, sending cool shivers down Hulda’s neck and into her shoulders. She loved how his touch still did that. Not that she would tell him in this moment. He was not properly chagrined.

Ellis mewed. Sighing, Hulda pulled away and, dropping the black bag on her shoulder to the floor, crossed the room to sit in the rocking chair at its corner, undoing the ties of the sling around her. “Anything exciting happen while I was away?”

He shrugged and started picking up the toys that had been slung around the room. “Wrote two chapters in my book—short chapters, but still two. Owein got a letter from Cora. Outside of that ... same as usual. You?”

“Are you going to read them to me?”

“Tonight.”

“The letter?”

Merritt shrugged. “He hasn’t mentioned what it said, if he’s read it. He’s been pretty closed off about the letters the last few months.” He glanced toward the window. “I wonder if he’s nervous, though he still sends out just as many as he receives. Admittedly, I’m tempted to sneak in there and read them myself. I know he saves them.”

“But you are far too honorable a person to snoop in his belongings.” Hulda unbuttoned the front of her dress as Ellis began to wail.

“Unfortunately.” The corner of his lip ticked upward. “And if he caught me, he could destroy me with a tip of a hat.”

“Fortunately, or unfortunately, Owein has adopted your distaste for millinery.” She repositioned herself, Ellis finding the breast quickly, silencing her cries. The babe sucked like she hadn’t been fed all day, even though she’d eaten on the tram on the way to Portsmouth. Hulda considered for a moment. “Perhaps I’m being too hard on him.”

But Merritt shook his head. “He needs to learn these things. The more he knows, the better he’ll fare. I should talk to him. Again.” He knelt on the carpet beside the chair and gently clasped her ankle. “How are you faring?”

Hulda glanced to the door, but the hallway outside remained quiet—an increasingly rare occurrence in this house. “Myra is preparing for the annual inspection of the facility.”

The “facility” had been Myra Haigh’s surreptitious—and very illegal—project while she’d been director of the Boston Institute for the Keeping of Enchanted Rooms, or BIKER for short. It was a ghastly place carrying on clandestine research regarding the hopeful synthesizing of magic. It also housed the remains of Silas Hogwood’s corpse. Though the Ohio laboratory had been sanctioned by the US government two years ago, they kept its existence strictly confidential, and Hulda didn’t speak of it where anyone outside Merritt could hear. Myra wasn’t even listed as an employee on any documentation, not for BIKER and not for the facility. Not only because the world believed her to be dead, but because her name had been tied to misuse of funds with BIKER before Hulda had taken over. The discovery of Myra’s involvement was the only thing that could still get Hulda in trouble, though Hulda only went out to the place once or twice a year and could feign ignorance on the matter. “Otherwise, we’ve maintained the customary.”

“What exciting lives we lead, hm?”

She met his eyes, then twisted a lock of his hair around her finger. He’d nearly cut it last year, but she’d grown so attached to the unfashionable style that she couldn’t bear the thought of it sheared, though his mother insisted he should look more professional, since his books had become popular enough to beg his attendance at readings. “I would much rather have routine than disarrangement. We’ve both had enough exigency for a lifetime.”

He laughed. “I’m sorry, what?”

She rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wondered if he really didn’t understand her or if he merely enjoyed pestering her. “Enough trouble, danger, perilous adventure, what have you.”

“But it makes for such good inspiration.”

Indeed, the villain in Merritt’s latest novel, which he’d yet to title, was a necromancer. Though the differences between her and Silas Hogwood ended there. Better safe than sorry, in any situation, andthough the Fernsbys were well out of the mire, they both preferred not to hint at any ties to the magic-stealing necromancer of their past.

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