Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(49)

“I am indeed ashamed,” Rand replied, his light hazel eyes caressing her as his fingers toyed with the curled locks that fell down her back in a cascade of sable. “It’s been far too long since I made love to you in a carriage.” He nibbled at the side of her throat while adding, “Don’t worry about arriving too soon— you know I always leave you enough time to restore your appearance.”

“The devil you do. I wouldn’t give you three blind ‘uns and a bolter for the amount of time you allow me,” Rosalie rejoined, using the slang phrase for a bad team of horses. “Restore myself? You know that 1 never look the same after you’re through with me.““No one’s opinion matters but mine. And I approve wholeheartedly of your appearance.”

She giggled lightly, her fingers tracing over the soft, broad lines of his mouth. He caught her fingers between his even white teeth and flicked his tongue across her fingertips.

“It’s just that I have the disconcerting feeling that when they look at me, they all know what we’ve been doing.”

“Fleur, of course they do. Never let it be said that I’m the kind of man who doesn’t know what to do when he’s alone with his wife.”

“Heaven forbid,” Rosalie said throatily. “I’ve always been told that the passion between a husband and wife fades after the first few years… but you’re even more amorous now than you were before we were married. Mind you, I’m not complaining… now, why are you suddenly frowning?”

“I just thought about Christian.” Berkeley’s expression became less complacent- and his brows drew together. “I wonder if he’s all right.”

Rosalie fought to keep her smile from broadening into a grin. She had never dreamed that Rand Berkeley, the former rake and confirmed bachelor, would have turned out to be such a doting father. They had taken their son around the world with them to many exotic and distant places, so that at three years old young Christian was already a seasoned traveler and a singularly independent little boy. Rosalie could see, however, that Rand could hardly bear the thought of leaving him even for a weekend, no matter how nonchalant he tried to appear about it.

“My darling,” she said patiently, “we have this conversation every time we go somewhere without him. Christian is perfectly fine, surrounded by a score of people who would do anything to please him. You’re turning him into a little maharajah, and although I think he’s perfectly wonderful, I must agree with what someone said to me the other day: he is becoming a little spoiled.”

“Who told you that my son is spoiled?” Rand asked, scowling.

“That doesn’t matter,” Rosalie said quickly, knowing that anyone daring to say a word of criticism about golden-haired angel-faced, mischievous little Christian would earn Rand’s everlasting antagonism. If ever a father was blind to the faults of his son… “The point is, dearest, that he spends more time with you than he does with Nurse, and instead of doing the things that other children do, he’s usually with you while you’re ordering people around at the shipping office and supervising the tenants. He’s learning to imitate you far too well… don’t you agree that he is becoming just a little too dictatorial for a child his age?”

“And what the deuce should he be doing that the other children do?”

“Well… riding his pony, I suppose. Spending time in the garden… or playing nice games.”

“Nice games,” Rand repeated darkly.

“Yes.”

He twisted around so that she lay on her back on the cushioned seat. Looking down at her, Rand let his gaze wander slowly over her, to her sweet, earnest face, her enticing bareness, and the wildly twisted, disarranged ruffles of her gown. After five years of marriage their feelings for each other were stronger than ever. Since they had first met, neither of them had had eyes for anyone but each other. Love had reformed him, had filled her life, had made the commonplace seem special and the extraordinary seem possible. Rand caught his breath as his wife smiled up at him. He loved her with a passion that would take a hundred lifetimes to burn itself out.

“I have a nice game in mind for you,” he informed her huskily, and she giggled while trying to squirm away from him.

Rand, don’t you dare… we don’t have enough time.”

His hand searched boldly through the myriad of raffles.

‘What about this? You always liked this one…”

Take your hand away from there!” They engaged in a brief tussle. Rand chuckled at Rosalie’s playful attempts to twist away from him. Both of them knew that after a short struggle Rosalie would let him win. She always did.

The library exuded a companionable atmosphere. Alec, Sackville, and Squire Osbaldeston sat with their feet propped up on the mahogany table, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the brilliant light of day that poured in through the windows. Since the hunt was being delayed today, the residents and guests of Sackville Manor were all gathered in small groups throughout the estate, talking idly just as these three were. Alec was in a lazy good mood, his gray eyes warmer and his smile easier than usual. His broad shoulders were relaxed against the back of the deep armchair in an attitude of masculine contentment. He was entirely aware that the reason for this unfamiliar sense of well-being was last night, and his mind kept turning back to the memories of what had transpired in the small turret room.