Page 42 of My Wicked Earl
“And Lady Helen? How does your marchioness find her?”
At the mention of Lady Helen, the Marquess of Cambourne laughed out loud. “Should you marry Lady Helen, you will find your visits to Gray Covington limited to holidays and the occasional hunt.”
“She is that awful then?” Of course she was. The girl was bound to be bloody awful. Colin took a deep breath. Sometime during the journey to Gray Covington, between Miranda’s obvious anguish and the overwhelming desire Colin still felt for her, he had lost interest in this bloody house party. Indeed, he’d lost interest in everything but Miranda, especially the girls brought here for his obvious perusal.
Which brought him back to theincident, as Miranda referred to it. He was just about to ask when Cam turned to him, green eyes narrowed and speculative.
“The gypsy wasn’t right, you know. You’ve lived your life by a prophecy given to you by a withered old crone in the woods. It did not come true for me. Nor, Nick.”
“I disagree.” Colin tipped his glass to his friend, the familiar feeling of dread and acceptance filling him. “Her prophecy, at least for me, has come to pass. Every fucking word.”
Cam shot him a resigned look. “Why must you be so dreadfully fatalistic? She only told us whatcouldbe. Nothing is set in stone. It’s the Irish in you. It’s always made you—”
He was about to say more when the door to the study burst open.
Two dark haired toddlers with chubby fists raised in the air ran in a crazy zig zag motion straight for the Marquess. The girl, her green eyes filled with delight, giggled. Clutched in her hand was what appeared to be a tiny spray of violets. Her brother, a more serious lad with eyes the color of a summer storm, lagged a bit behind, his dark head turning back as if looking to see if they were followed.
A harried nanny, her face red from running, huffed and puffed as she entered the study. She came to a quick stop as she spotted the two men. Cap askew atop a head of gray curls, she halted in front of Cam, her round face wreathed in apology.
“My lord,” the poor woman gulped air as she sought to catch her breath. “I beg your forgiveness for the intrusion. Lady Madeline insisted that she show you the violets she picked from the garden. I told her that you were attending to your guests, but,” the nanny held up her hands in supplication, “well, you know, my lord, how Lady Madeline gets a bee in her bonnet.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Moore.” Cam sat down his whiskey and held open his arms to the children. “Are you two looking for me?”
Lady Madeline, her head a mass of dark curls twirling about bits of ribbon leapt at her father as if Cam were a mountain that needed to be scaled. Her small mouth pressed a series of wet kisses upon his neck as she simultaneously stuck her small spray of rather wilted violets against his nose.
Lord Robert came forward more slowly. He shot Colin a curious look, studying the scar for a moment before moving forward to his father. Patting Cam’s leg, he cautiously pulled himself up his father’s thigh, and threw his small body against Cam’s larger one.
Lady Madeline pulled her brother’s hair, earning a scowl from the boy.
Cam smiled down adoringly at the pair of children in his arms. “Did you two run from Nanny again? You must obey Nanny and not send her all over Gray Covington.”
“Look, Papa.” Lady Madeline gave her father a coquettish grin. “Flowers.” She patted his cheek with her small hand. “Love you.”
Colin envied Cam a great many things, but handling Madeline when the girl came of age was not one of them. She was a natural flirt and would likely cause trouble the moment she made her debut.
“Madeline, Robert, you have forgotten your manners.” Cam nodded towards Colin. “Do you remember Lord Kilmaire?”
Two pairs of eyes turned to Colin.
“Good afternoon Lady Madeline, Lord Robert,” Colin greeted them. The twins were beautiful children. While he avoided Cambourne House during his stay in London, Colin had been fortunate enough to spend the day in Hyde Park with Cam and the children. They’d sailed boats on the pond and shared a picnic lunch.
Madeline waved. Robert nodded solemnly.
Cam hugged both children to his chest, his eyes closing as he whispered something to both of them, then said out loud, “Terribly bad of you to run from Nanny. Although, I am happy that you sought me out. I adore violets Maddy, how did you guess?”
Madeline preened under her father’s regard. “Papa.”
“There you are.”
The petite form of the Marchioness of Cambourne marched across the room, eyes on her disobedient children, one brow raised in question.
The two toddlers pushed their face into their father’s chest.
Colin did not know Alex, the Marchioness of Cambourne well, having only met her for the first time at Nick’s wedding, but in that short time, he’d developed a deep respect for her. Cam was, well,Cam. Nick relayed to Colin that it was Cam who’d pursued the small spinster, only to be rebuffed. She’d been betrothed to Archie Runyon before being caught in a scandalous embrace with the notorious Satan Reynolds, much to theton’ssurprise. Their hurried marriage had been the talk of London for some time.
‘Lady Cambourne’ Nick told Colin, ‘is a force to be reckoned with, a small cyclone that is much more dangerous than it appears. Cam is taken with his Marchioness and much to the dismay of ladies all over London, notoriously faithful to his wife.’
Both men stood as she entered the room. Cam’s children continued to cling to him like tiny monkeys climbing a great tree, all the while shooting their mother fearful glances.
