Page 108 of The Lyon and the Unicorn
“Words cannot express my regrets at what happened when ye were here before,” he said. “I can only assure ye that I love yer daughter with all my heart. I honor yer ferocity in championing her.”
She arched a perfectly formed brow, and he shuffled from one foot to another, in the manner of an errant schoolboy awaiting a thoroughly deserved thrashing from his housemaster.
“Myferocity?”
“Mama,” Clara said, unable to disguise her mirth, “you said you’d be kind.”
The ice melted a little, and the duchess extended her hand. Murdo took it and brushed his lips against her skin.
“Ye honor Clan McTavish by gracing us with yer presence, Duchess.”
“I abhor foppish gallantry…”
“My love,” the duke warned, smiling.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I suppose I can suffer gallantry this once from the man who proclaimed so beautifully that he loves my daughter.”
She drew Murdo into an embrace, then lowered her voice to a whisper.
“Give me cause to believe you don’t love Clara, and I’ll bite off your manhood.”
“I-I… What?” Murdo stammered.
She withdrew and gave a genteel smile before exchanging a look with the duke.
“There, Harcourt,” she said. “Didn’t I promise to be gracious?”
Clara giggled and squeezed Murdo’s hand. He suppressed a surge of desire at the image her mother’s words had elicited in his mind. Last night, his wild, passionate wife had kneeled before him and taken him into her mouth, while he succumbed to pleasure, only wincing once when she grazed him with her teeth.
He glanced at the satisfied expression on the duke’s face. Perhaps the mother was as equally without restraint in the bedchamber as the daughter.
Ye’re a lucky bastard, Yer Grace.
No—they werebothlucky bastards.
“Will ye be dancing tonight, Duchess?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t know where to begin!” she replied. “Harcourt and I shall enjoy watching the young people—and I can keep that lovely young girl company.” She gestured to Marsaili, who sat by the fireplace, cradling her swollen belly, the deerhound at her feet. Marsaili glowed with health and happiness as she tapped her foot on the floor in time to the music.
“Marsaili’s dancing days are over,” Murdo said, “at least until the spring.”
The duchess approached Marsaili, and at first, fear filled the young woman’s eyes, but the duchess’s natural friendliness put her at ease and the two women were soon deep in conversation.
Murdo brought his wife’s hand to his lips.
“Wecan dance, my love, can’t we?” he said.
“It would be my pleasure, husband,” Clara said. “But you must enjoy the moment while it lasts.”
“How so?”
She gave a shy smile. “I fear, husband, thatmydancing days will soon be over also. At least until the summer.”
Murdo’s heart soared with hope. Did she mean…?
Clara stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. Then she placed her hand over her belly and smiled.
With a whoop of joy, Murdo lifted her into his arms.
