“Hmm, yes, I begin to see your point. You know, it’s interesting your female protagonist is a countess, and here you are, also a countess.” His hands ran along her back and ended at her sweet bottom, cupping a cheek within each hand. He began to stir again. “All this talk of sex and cocks and breasts and your very luscious body rubbing against mine is keeping me awake. Whatever shall I do about it, Countess?”
Lowering her voice to a small soft whisper, she told him rather graphically what he should do, and that was all it took for him to rise to the request.
Half an hour later, they were back to falling asleep when she murmured against his chest, “Sherbourne, I’m late.”
He nearly squeezed her to death, he was so elated. “Have I told you how very much I love you?”
“Not nearly enough.” She sighed contentedly. “You are happy, then?”
“Ecstatic. Ah, Lucy, you’re beautiful and splendid. I do love you so.”
“And I love you. Goodnight, Sherbourne.”
“You really must begin calling me by my Christian name.”
“It’s difficult, being as you have the same name as my son.”
“I understand. Perhaps, then you can call me Sherry, when we are alone.”
She laughed. “Capital notion! Yes, I like that . . . Sherry. It will keep a favorite memory alive, as well. Goodnight then, Sherry. I love you.”
He fell into slumber at last, sated, happy and content. Wonder of wonders, he was to be a father again. Life was so very good, was it not?
***
Early summer had arrived, Parliament was in its last sessions, and the Season was coming to an end. The rounds of parties were beginning to thin, with some people already gone from town, but the majority remained. No one wished to miss the Bloomsbury ball. It was rumored that Brian MacDougal, sixth Earl of Haversham and Wrotham’s houseguest the past week, would be in attendance. He’d been spotted at a few occasions, and proved to be an amiable chap. There were some matchmaking mamas, those whose daughters had tried and failed to secure an offer during the Season, who eyed him with interest. It was difficult to determine anything of his fortune, but there were those who didn’t consider it important, who wished to see their daughter become a countess, even if it meant a move to the wilds of Scotland.
But of course his being a jolly chap and a possible match for the remaining unmarried misses on the marriage mart wasn’t the reason so many were anxious to attend the Bloomsbury ball and make his acquaintance. The Earl of Haversham was at the heart of the year’s juiciest scandal, an exclamation point at the end of a seemingly endless list of scandals, all surrounding Lady Jane Lennox, now the Duchess of Blixford.
The night of the ball, Jane was oddly calm. When Michael commented upon it, she said simply, “Either the truth will out, or it will not. Whatever comes, I’m ready to face. I’ve knocked on death’s door, along with my husband, and nothing after that seems so terribly important. Truthfully, I’m more hopeful we’re successful for your sake than for mine. I could be happy with only you and our family and our servants for company until I am very old.”
“Strangely, I feel much the same.” He shook his head. “It always seemed so critical to keep the title sterling and pristine, and I find now that how others see it is irrelevant. How you and I live as the Duke and Duchess of Blixford is all that matters, and I believe we honor the position.”
He looked delicious in his formal attire and she wondered at how much she loved him. “Yes, I believe we do. If we didn’t have the future of our children to consider, I might suggest we stay in tonight and leave MacDougal to God. But we can’t bring children into the world beneath a cloud of scandal, so I suppose we must go through with this.”
Offering his arm as they reached the top of the stairs in her father’s house, he smiled down at her. “You grow more lovely every day, Jane. It’s good to see the bloom back in your cheeks. If you grow overly tired, you’ll let me know at once?”
“Yes, I will, but I’m feeling quite well and foresee we’ll enjoy a waltz or two.”
“Perhaps this time we’ll have company on the dance floor.”
Papa and Lucy were there in the hall, waiting for them, and they all went out to the Sherbourne coach to ride the short distance to Lady Bloomsbury’s house. It was near midnight, and most everyone who planned to attend the ball would be there by now.
Indeed, they were. Lady Bloomsbury may have waited until late in the Season to host a grand ball, but it was a smashing success, a veritable crush.
When they arrived and were announced, she came toward their group and greeted Blixford first, Sherbourne second, Lucy third, and Jane not at all. It was as though she were invisible.