To Seduce a Sinner (Legend of the Four Soldiers #2)(70)

So Melisande did.

Aunt Esther led them into her house, which had apparently been redecorated on the occasion of her marrying her third husband. “New man, new house,” she said merrily to Melisande.

Jasper just grinned.

It was a lovely house. High on one of Edinburgh’s many hills, it was of Whitestone and had clean, classical lines. Inside, Aunt Esther favored white marble and a checkered black and white floor.

“In here,” she called, bustling down the hall. “Mr. Whippering is so looking forward to meeting both of you.”

She led them to a red sitting room with paintings of enormous baskets of fruit bracketing a black enamel and gilt fireplace. A man so tall and thin he looked like a knobby walking stick sat on a settee. He had a muffin halfway to his mouth when they walked in.

Aunt Esther flew at him in a flurry of flapping yellow skirts. “Not the muffins, Mr. Whippering! You know they are not good for your digestion.”

The poor man gave up his muffin and stood to be introduced. He was even taller than Vale, his coat hanging on him in folds. But he had a very sweet smile as he peered at them over half-moon glasses.

“This is Mr. Horatio Whippering, my husband,” Aunt Esther announced proudly.

Mr. Whippering bowed to Vale and took Melisande’s hand, twinkling up at her roguishly.

The introductions made, Aunt Esther plopped herself down on the settee. “Sit down, sit down, and tell me all about your trip.”

“We were attacked by highwaymen,” Vale said obligingly.

Melisande arched an eyebrow at him and he winked.

“No!” Aunt Esther’s eyes rounded, and she turned to her spouse. “Did you hear that, Mr. Whippering? Highwaymen attacking my nephew and his wife. I never heard the like.” She shook her head and poured tea. “Well, I expect you frightened them off.”

“All by myself.” Vale smiled modestly.

“You’re lucky to have such a strong, brave husband,” Aunt Esther told Melisande.

Melisande smiled and avoided Jasper’s gaze for fear she might laugh.

“I think they should be hung, really I do,” the little woman continued. She passed a cup of tea to Vale and Melisande and one to her husband, admonishing him, “Mind you don’t add cream. Remember what it does to your digestion, dear.” Then she sat back with a plate full of muffins on her lap and announced, “I must take issue with you, dear nephew.”

“And why is that, dear aunt?” Vale asked. He’d chosen the largest muffin, and now he bit into it, spilling crumbs down his shirt.

“Why, this hasty marriage. There’s no reason for such haste unless”—she peered at them sharply—“there is a reason?”

Melisande blinked and shook her head.

“No? Well, then, why the rush? Why, I’d hardly got the announcement that you had changed fiancées and in the very next post—it was the very next post, wasn’t it, Mr. Whippering?” she appealed to her spouse. He nodded, obviously well used to his part in her monologues. “I thought so,” Aunt Esther continued. “As I say, the ve {ay, Hery next post, a letter came from your mother writing that you’d already married. Why, I hadn’t even time to think of a suitable wedding present, let alone make plans to travel to London, and what I want to know is why marry so fast? Mr. Whippering courted me for three years, did you not, Mr. Whippering?”

A dutiful nod.

“And even then I made him wait nine months for a proper engagement before we were wed. I can’t think why you should marry in such a hurry.” She stopped to inhale and drink some tea, frowning ferociously at her nephew.

“But, Aunt Esther, I had to wed Melisande as soon as humanly possible,” Vale said, all wounded innocence. “I was afraid she might call it off. She was surrounded by suitors, and I had to beat them off with a stick. Once I had her pledge, I got her to the altar as swiftly as possible.”

He finished this outrageous pack of lies by smiling innocently at his aunt.

The lady clapped her hands delightedly. “And so you should’ve! Well done! I’m glad you caught such a fine lady to make your wife. She looks like she has a level head on her shoulders—that should balance your foolery.”

Vale clasped his chest and swooned in his chair dramatically. “You wound me, dear lady.”

“Pish,” said his aunt. “You are a silly fool, but then most men are when it comes to women, even my dear Mr. Whippering.”

They all looked at Mr. Whippering, who tried his best to appear suitably scampish. He was somewhat hampered by the teacup balanced on his knobby knees.

“Well, I wish you both a long and happy marriage,” Aunt Esther declared, popping a bite of muffin into her mouth. “And a fruitful one.”

Melisande swallowed at the allusion to babies and looked blindly down at her cup of tea. The thought of holding a small bit of her and Jasper, of stroking baby-fine reddish brown hair, sent a bolt of painful yearning through her. Oh, how wonderful it would be to have a baby!

“Thank you, Aunt,” Vale was saying gravely. “I shall endeavor to father at least a dozen or so offspring.”

“I know you jest with me, but family is most important. Most important. Mr. Whippering and I have discussed this on numerous occasions, and we both agree that children settle a young man. And you, dear nephew, could do with a bit of settling. Why, I remember the time—” Aunt Esther cut herself off with a start and a squeak as she stared at the mantel clock. “Mr. Whippering! Look at the time. Look at the time! Why didn’t you tell me it was so late, you horrid man?”