“I don’t have much experience at that.”
“Neither do I. But I want to try.”
“I do too,” he said. “Also, there’s a good chance I’ll occasionally revert back to the Penhallow high-handedness.”
“Oh, only occasionally?”
“Old habits are hard to break.”
“I know. I’ll try to keep my temper in check.”
“Still, we’ll probably quarrel sometimes,” he said.
“I have no doubt of it.”
“But it will all be worth it.”
Livia squeezed his big warm hand. “Yes. We’re going to be very happy together.”
“I know we will. And while we’re on the subject of family,” he added, “I’m hoping you’ll want children.”
“I do. You?”
“Yes. And not for dynastic purposes. I want children for love.”
“I’m glad. We’re going to have four,” Livia told him firmly.
“Four is a good number.”
His eyes, she noticed, were sparkling in a very appealing way.
“Shall we begin right now?” he asked.
Livia caught her breath. And smiled a slow smile. “There’s no time like the present.”
“Wait,” he said.
“What?”
“Are you sure you’re up for it? That is, you’ve been ill, and knowing you you’re probably hungry. Shall I ring for food? Of course I’m happy to wait until you—”
“Do stop talking and come here.” Livia tugged at his hand, and willingly he joined her on the bed where they lay, side by side, looking into each other’s eyes.
“You are beautiful,” Gabriel said, very softly.
“I’m glad you think so.” Livia reached out to pull gently at his neckcloth. “Clothing,” she murmured mischievously. “Always too much clothing.”
He smiled and kissed her then, and after that—why, after that, there really was no more talking. There was no need. That same, familiar, limitless energy connected them, the incandescent heat of desire joined them, and the magic that is love bound them together: warmly, trustingly, forever.
Five days later . . .
The luxurious rented carriage in which Livia and Flye had traveled from Bristol, with Gabriel riding alongside on Primus, pulled up onto the gravel sweep, now beautifully raked. Footmen hurried out to let down the steps and hand Livia down and to take Primus’s reins, and through the Hall’s open door shot Muffin like a small white cannonball, barking joyfully. He capered about them, doing several speedy laps around their feet, paused for a moment to yap provocatively at the horses, then dashed back to the steps where Grandmama stood, straight and regal and smiling. As Livia approached, she opened her arms wide, and Livia could see that she was crying.
“My darling Livia!” exclaimed Grandmama shakily.
Livia smiled. “Hello, Granny dear,” she said, and walked straight into the old lady’s embrace, hugging her tightly.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“For what, Granny dear?”
“For behaving so dreadfully to you.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, I promise you. That’s all behind us now.”
Grandmama looked searchingly into Livia’s face. “If you’re quite certain?”
“Quite certain, Granny.”
The troubled tension left the old lady’s face, and she pulled a dainty handkerchief from her reticule with which to dry her tears. “Well then, come inside,” she said briskly. “We’ve so much to do! Your wedding, and Evangeline’s, to plan. Yes, Arthur Markson has proposed and been accepted! Also, there are two particularly capable candidates for the housekeeper’s position—I want to tell you all about them, and arrange for you to meet them. Oh, and I’d like your opinion about new wallpaper for the breakfast-parlor. Come see the samples! Crenshaw, tea, please, in the Rose Saloon. Cook has made your favorite muffins, Livia dear, and she expects you to eat at least three of them. That is—” She lifted silver brows inquiringly. “Unless you’d rather go to your room, and rest a while?”
Livia laughed. “No. I’m well again. Tea sounds lovely.”
Gabriel bent to kiss Grandmama’s cheek. “What, no word of welcome for me?” he said reproachfully. “And I like muffins, too.”
His grandmother twinkled up at him. “As do I. In fact, I may have three of them myself. Cook made a vast quantity in honor of your return.”
“Excellent.” Gabriel ushered the ladies inside, and glanced with pleasure around the Great Hall, clean and dusted and orderly once more. He looked at Livia, smiling, remembering their interlude together at the Inn of the Golden Trident, and then wondered if their children would find the armament display as fascinating as he had when he was little. He suspected they would. Many spirited and noisy reenactments of the Knights of the Round Table would take place here someday. Aloud he said: “You’ve all been busy, I see! How splendid it looks. Thank you! It’s wonderful to be home.”