Page 136 of Harpy of the Ton
She caressed his skin, tracing the outline of his muscles with her fingertips. “There’s one thing you can give me, my love,” she said. “A child.”
He stiffened. “A-a child?”
“Am I wrong to ask?”
“No, my love—there’s nothing I want more. But—are you sure?”
She nodded against his chest. “Roberta wants a sister—as does William. And Jonathan has said he wants to complete the band of brothers.”
“The band of brothers?”
“Nelson’s band of brothers.”
She traced the outline of his nipple with her fingertips. He drew in a sharp breath, and she felt his manhood twitch beneath her.
“William’s the eldest, if only by a few minutes,” she said, “so he’s claimed Nelson’s title. Roberta’s Lieutenant Hardy. And Jonathan’s Captain Miller.”
“And there’s a fourth member of the band?”
She let out a soft laugh. “My love, there’s at least fifteen in Nelson’s band of brothers. We’re going to be very busy—but I doubt we’ll consider our efforts a chore.”
She tilted her head, offering her lips for a kiss. For a moment he hesitated, then he claimed her mouth, sweeping his tongue across her lips. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his side, taking her with him.
She smiled and closed her eyes, nestling against him. “I love you,” she whispered.
“And I you, Bella,” he said. “More than life itself. Promise you’ll never forget that. Promise me you’ll remember that, whatever happens, I love you, and I always will.”
He held her close until his breathing deepened, indicating that he’d fallen asleep.
Promise me you’ll remember that, whatever happens, I love you, and I always will.
What had he meant by that? And why, as he said it, could she discern such despair in his voice?
Chapter Forty
“There’s the chimneyof Ivy Cottage above the trees—we’re almost home!”
Bella turned to Lawrence, her face illuminated with her beautiful smile, and his heart swelled with love and pride—pride in the woman he loved more than his own life. And her love for him shone from her eyes.
Would they still shine with love when he told her the truth?
Tell her, Baxter. Tell her before someone else does.
Trelawney’s voice echoed in his mind. He’d taken Lawrence aside after breakfast that morning, issuing a warning. Whitcombe—the imposing, arrogant creature who’d insulted Bella yesterday—had recognized her. It was only by virtue of the man “not wishing to sully his hands with a woman he despised,” as Trelawney put it, that he’d said nothing in public. That and Whitcombe’s friendship with Trelawney.
A friendship Lawrence had hoped to take advantage of, seeing as Trelawney had been recommending Lawrence’s skills to all his acquaintances.
He sighed. Yet again, his hopes had been thwarted. But this time not at Lady Arabella’s hand, but that of a man who despised her.
“My love?”
Concern clouded Bella’s expression. She steered her mount alongside his and leaned forward, offering her lips for a kiss.How she managed to maintain her balance, he couldn’t fathom. But in her former life she must have ridden all the time—and her body remembered.
Sooner or later, her mind would follow suit.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked.
“No, love.” He forced a smile.
