Page 63 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
She blinked, having forgotten his earlier inquiry. A few caresses and her mind became pudding. “Nothing, truly. I was looking for changes in my face.”
He bent down and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “You are too young to be counting wrinkles.”
“I am not that vain,” she said, even if it wasn’t the truth. “I thought I would see something different. A change, if you like, now that I am a married woman.” She shook her head to disengage his fingers from her hair. “I told you it was silly.”
A gentle touch on her left shoulder made her shift her gaze to his in the mirror. His eyes of warm pewter possessed the means to touch her as effortlessly as if he had raised his hand. “Were you worried that others would see that I had bedded you, just by looking at your face?”
Getting irritated by the hint of laughter she detected in his tone, she picked up her brush and began stroking it through her hair at a reckless speed that should have created more tangles rather than smoothed them. “I did not expect to see a tattoo on my forehead for all to see, if that is your meaning, sir!” For spite, she rapped his knuckles with the wooden handle when he reached out to take it from her.
“Ow, you vengeful chit. Has anyone told you that you have the devil’s own temper when you are vexed?”
Slowing the tempo of her strokes, she said demurely, “On the contrary. I have always been complimented on my wit and engaging manner.”
“Perhaps only I can draw out your annoyance.”
On her life she could not understand why the observation seemed to please him. “By all accounts, Tipton, I will have to credit you for that.” Setting down her brush, she pivoted on her chair until she could look directly at him. “So, Tipton, with our growing family do you think we should contact a solicitor to help us locate a larger residence?”
The question visibly flustered him. “Growing?” He gazed pointedly at her abdomen. “You—you said it was too soon.”
Devona could not conceal her disappointment. “Still thinking a pregnancy would be a wonderful way to goad your mother? I hate to thwart you, but I was referring to Dr. Sir Wallace Brogden.” Considering her husband’s feelings on the subject of family, she hoped it would take years to conceive their first child. By then perhaps the notion of having a child together would be a joy in itself, instead of another tool to hurt his mother.
“Ah, yes,” he faltered, trying to judge Devona’s present feelings. “I hope having him here will not upset you. Brogden has been a friend since I went abroad. He was a part of my life when my own family could not bear the sight of me.”
“There is no reason to explain, Tipton.”
“He almost killed himself getting himself to London. I can only surmise the poison from his injury muddled his senses. He is a man of science and a good doctor. If he had been clearheaded, he would have seen that the leg needed tending.”
Recognizing guilt when she saw it, she murmured, “His ill care forced you to cut off part of his leg.”
Rayne kneaded the tension at his brow. “He thought by waiting that I could save the leg. I couldn’t. There was too much infection. The maggots—” Noting her expression, he halted. “Forgive me; I forget that not everyone appreciates the details of my work.”
“Does he blame you?”
“Some. Especially after the surgery. I only renewed his anger by having Speck bully him to the town house. But he needed my help, and I intended to see that he survived the amputation. Even if he was determined not to just to irritate me.”
“You never said a word about this. And here I was, doing my own bullying to get you to help me save Doran. Not to mention the attacks on our lives!” She stood. The weight of all the responsibility she had placed on his shoulders was beginning to strain hers. “No wonder you refused me at first. By all rights, you should have sent Speck to bully me into leaving you alone.”
He opened his arms and she walked into his protective embrace. He had been protecting her all along. The thought that she had not been carrying her weight in their partnership made her feel miserable.
“No fretting, beloved. You’ll bring on those wrinkles,” he said, trying to tease her out of her melancholy. “Anything I did to help you with Claeg I did for my own purpose. As my mother can attest, no one manipulates me.”
“You took on Maddy,” Devona pointed out, then could have kicked herself in the shin for reminding him.
“I did it to please you. And me, too, since I thought Jocelyn was going to have an apoplectic fit over the announcement.” He stroked her hair, his hand continuing down her spine until he affectionately patted her bottom. “Sorry, love, if you think to reform my opinion of my family. However, since you did fess up about me bringing out your nastiness—”
“Your ability to vastly annoy me,” she corrected, “and you are doing it now, my lord.”
“Regardless, madam, I can stand here before you and not regret a single action I have taken on your behalf.” He cupped her face and kissed her sweetly. “Having Brogden here won’t bother you?”
“No. He is your friend. Since he is angry with you, perhaps I can get him to disclose tales of your past together,” she wondered aloud. Enough menacing glee was in her tone to have him chuckling.
“Not if I threaten him first.”
He kissed her again. This kiss contained none of the sweetness of the previous one and left her hungering for more. Devona leaned into him. She opened her mouth against his, allowing his tongue to penetrate and seductively rub against hers. As she breathed deeply through her nose, contentment rose deep within her. The smell of Rayne, the taste and feel of him, was becoming an ever-increasing need. The more time spent with him, the more she craved.
“One more thing,” he whispered; the promise that he would be inside her soon shone brilliantly in his eyes. “When our child grows within your womb, Devona, his creation will be the result of my need to be a part of you. I’m a selfish bastard. ’Tis best you remember that.”
***
