Page 61 of The Earl's Scarred Bride

"Until the handsome earl came along!" Adelaide bounced excitedly. "That's you, Uncle Cecil!"

"Well, I wouldn't say handsome," Madeleine cut in, grinning. "Perhaps 'tolerably good-looking' at best."

"Devastatingly handsome," Cecil corrected with mock severity, making Adelaide giggle again. "And very clever indeed, for he saw right away what a rare and precious jewel the lady was."

"Though not clever enough to avoid making a complete cake of himself first," Emily added with a laugh. "As I recall, you practically had to be forced into admitting your feelings."

"I prefer to think of it as a carefully planned strategic retreat," Cecil said loftily, though his ears had reddened slightly. "Followed by a masterful comeback."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Laurence's dry voice came from the doorway, where he had reappeared with a fresh glass in hand. "I seem to remember more drinking and brooding than strategy."

"Uncle Laurence!" Adelaide squirmed off Cecil's lap and ran to her other uncle, who caught her deftly with his free hand. "Will you stay for dinner? Uncle Cecil tells the best stories, but you make the funniest faces!"

Something flickered in Laurence's usually stoic expression—a softness that seemed at odds with his stern demeanor. "I suppose I could be persuaded," he said gravely. "If you promise to keep your Uncle Cecil from telling any more embellished tales about his own heroics."

"I do not embellish," Cecil protested, pulling Elizabeth closer to his side. "Every word I say about my wife is absolutely true. If anything, I understate her perfection."

"Now who's embellishing?" Elizabeth murmured, but she couldn't help leaning into his embrace, savoring the warmth of him.

"Mother would have adored being a grandmother," Madeleine said softly, watching Adelaide chatter away to an indulgent Laurence. "Can't you just imagine her with a whole brood of little ones?"

"She would have spoiled them terribly," Cecil agreed, and this time his smile held no shadows. "Probably would have had an entire nursery filled with her paintings of them."

As the others continued to reminisce, Cecil leaned close to Elizabeth, his breath warm against her ear. "Your smile is too pretty for your own good, my love," he whispered, making her cheeks flush. "I think we need to return home soon so I can demonstrate just how devastatingly handsome you find me."

Elizabeth turned to meet his gaze, seeing the familiar mix of mischief and devotion that never failed to make her heart skip. "We've only just arrived for the afternoon," she whispered back, though she couldn't help but smile at his impatience.

"Mmm, and you've been driving me to distraction the entire time." His fingers traced a subtle pattern on her palm where their hands were joined, hidden from view by the folds of her skirt. "The way you keep biting your lip when you're trying not to laugh at my sister's stories...most provoking, wife."

"I wasn't aware you found my attempts at politeness so troublesome," she teased, though her pulse quickened at his touch.

"Everything about you troubles me," he murmured, his voice dropping lower. "In the most delicious ways. For instance, right now I'm having the most inappropriate thoughts about that little catch in your breath when I do this..." His thumb brushed over her wrist, making her shiver.

"Cecil!" she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed their intimate exchange. "We're in company."

"Then perhaps we should make our excuses," he suggested, his eyes dark with promise. "After all, what sort of husband would I be if I allowed my wife to remain...troubled?"

Later that day Elizabeth stood by the window of their private sitting room, watching as the last rays of sunlight painted the garden in shades of gold. The peaceful moment was interrupted by an unusual sound—a muffled whimper coming from the direction of Cecil's study. Her brow furrowed in confusion. What could he possibly be up to now?

"Cecil?" she called out, gathering her skirts as she moved toward the connecting door. "Is everything quite all right?"

"One moment, darling!" His voice carried a note of barely contained excitement that made her smile. Cecil was many things, but subtle had never been among them. "I have something rather special to show you."

Elizabeth's heart quickened. Over the months of their marriage, she had grown to both anticipate and slightly fear his surprises. The last one had involved convincing her to ride astride like aman—scandalous, thrilling, and resulting in the most delightful afternoon gallop through their private woods.

The door creaked open, and Cecil emerged, one hand conspicuously hidden behind his back. His usually immaculate cravat was slightly askew, and there was a boyish gleam in his eyes that made him look years younger.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, his voice rich with suppressed laughter.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "The last time you made such a request, I ended up with my new riding habit completely ruined."

"And as I recall, you didn't mind in the least." His grin was positively wicked. "But I promise, this surprise is entirely different. Trust me?"

The last two words were spoken softly, almost vulnerably, and Elizabeth's heart melted. "Always," she whispered, letting her eyes flutter closed.

She heard him move closer, felt the warmth of his presence, and then—a wet nose pressed against her hand, followed by an enthusiastic lick.

Elizabeth's eyes flew open to find herself staring down at the most adorable spaniel puppy she had ever seen. The littlecreature was golden-brown with floppy ears and enormous dark eyes that seemed to contain all the love in the world.

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