Page 76 of Return of the Viscount
“So you’re enjoying it?” Michael asked doubtfully.
Mr. Blackthorne’s grin widened. “I’m enjoying the challenge of it and the work involved. It seems I prefer to be busy most of the day.” He glanced at Oliver. “You must understand that, my lord, with the breadth of the earldom you’ve inherited.”
“It’s important to surround yourself with knowledgeable people,” Oliver answered neutrally.
Mr. Blackthorne nodded. “I’ve found that to be very true.”
Cecilia didn’t mind that Oliver avoided mention of the duties she performed. She’d never wanted to embarrass him, only to help him until he was prepared. Michael was right—she hadn’t been preparing him well enough, only coddling him.
Lady Blackthorne turned to Cecilia, as if she was anxious to change the conversation from her son’s legal practice. “Regardless of things that have been said, I want you to truly believe how glad I am that my son has chosen a bride. I will admit that my marriage was not a happy one, and I lived in fear that my experiences soured Michael on the institution itself. He was always such a sensitive child.”
Michael rolled his eyes as Mr. Blackthorne guffawed, and even Oliver grinned. Cecilia knew her bright eyes must betray her, but she struggled to stay serious for her husband’s sake.
“Sensitive, Lady Blackthorne? I would be so pleased to hear stories of what my husband was like then.”
“Oh, he was very sensitive,” Mr. Blackthorne said, struggling to keep from smiling. “So sensitive that he thrashed me when we were pretending to fence with long sticks, so sensitive that he swam in the pond or rowed until exhaustion so he could defeat every other boy in the parish.”
Michael calmly continued eating as if he was used to being teased and had long since lost that sort of sensitivity. Cecilia was surprised how much she enjoyed this glimpse into his past, and how relaxed she was becoming among his family. Her family now. When Michael returned to India, she would at least have family to visit, his brother’s children to spoil, along with Oliver’s children.
After luncheon, she suggested a walk in the garden to see the grounds. Lady Blackthorne fussed over Michael’s leg. His face reddened with exasperation, and he overruled his mother’s concern. Oliver escaped the outing with “a pressing matter,” and she gave him a warning look. He should be there that evening for Michael’s family.
When Michael opened the conservatory doors that led to the terrace, he paused on the threshold and eyed Cecilia, saying in a voice meant only for her, “Stay by my side at all times.”
“Do you think someone would actually shoot at us?” she whispered in disbelief. “Every attack has looked so... accidental.”
“Do you know how many people ‘accidental’ hunting mishaps kill?”
Her eyes widened, and she swallowed. “Oh.”
He glanced back at the house, even as they led his family outside. “I wish your brother had come with us.”
She stiffened, and said coolly, “Nonsense. I have nothing to fear from him, and I wish you’d stop saying so.”
She noticed Lady Blackthorne watching them and gave her a pleasant smile, even as she slid her hand into Michael’s arm and briefly leaned her head against his solid shoulder.
“I don’t wish to argue, not today,” she begged quietly.
He patted her hand. “Of course.”
But he didn’t smile, and it took everything in her to keep a pleasant expression. Luckily, Mr. Blackthorne began to ask her questions about the estate, and she appreciated the distraction. Forgetting herself, she discussed the mill expansion, the state of the stables, and how many tenants their country seat held versus the other properties.
When, at last, they paused at the gazebo overlooking the pond, Lady Blackthorne said, “My lady, you have incredible knowledge of your brother’s property.”
“It ... is a fascination of mine,” Cecilia said, blushing. “I try to help Lord Appertan whenever he needs it. Now let’s continue walking this path, so you can see the Roman temple my ancestor envisioned.”
Michael’s mouth twitched as he contained his laughter, while Cecilia simply ignored him and began to point out the landscaping. She was relieved he was over his pique with her, but was beginning to imagine the evening ahead, and what he’d expect of her, now that they were permanently married.
Chapter 18
That night, Cecilia relaxed in her bathing tub, trying to think of nothing at all. But that seldom worked for her, and it didn’t now. She had to deliberately call to mind farming chores so she wouldn’t think about Michael in the next room.
Which fields would lie fallow during the next spring planting?
Michael, naked, leaning over her in bed, inside her, surrounding her.
She groaned aloud, slapped her hands on the surface of the water, and sank beneath. When she came up, she heard the door to the dressing room slam open.
Michael demanded, “What was that sound?”
