“It wasn’t?” Penny said, puzzled.
“Violet had something to do with it,” Emma said.
“Never say shepushedCarlisle into the fountain?” A startled laugh escaped Penny.
Gnawing on her lower lip, Emma said, “Vi wouldn’t give us the exact details, but she was quite distressed over the whole business.”
“And it takesa lotto distress Violet,” Thea said, her hazel eyes brimming with concern.
“Oh, dear.” Sobering, Penny hoped that disaster didn’t lay in wait. She couldn’t imagine a more unlikely and volatile pairing than between the reckless hoyden and the haughty Scot. “You don’t think there’s anything... well,going onbetween your sister and Carlisle? I thought she was enamored of his younger brother Wickham?”
“You never know with Violet,” the duchess said with a sigh. “Which is precisely why we’re worried.”
~~~
Later on that evening, Marcus cuddled Penny against his side. They were in bed, naked, their skin still warm and damp from the exertions of their recent lovemaking. Although, in truth, his wife had done most of the work. He traced the sweet shape of her lips and decided he wanted the same thing for Christmas every year.
As if reading his thoughts, Penny murmured against his chest, “Merry Christmas, Lord Blackwood.”
“Merry Christmas, Lady Blackwood.” He played with a long raven tress.
“What did you think of the party? Did you enjoy it?”
Smiling, he said, “It was splendid. You did a marvelous job, love. Although next year I vote we do away with the Twelfth cake.”
To entertain the children, his wife had decided to buck tradition and serve a Twelfth cake on Christmas Day. Embedded in the beautifully iced confection had been a small golden crown: the guest who found the crown in his or her slice got to be king or queen for the day, with the accompanying right to order around the other guests.
Owen had crowed with delight when he’d been crowned king.
His brothers had been less pleased.
“I’m afraid we raised a tyrant. Or, more accurately, three of them.” Penny traced delicate circles on his chest with her index finger. “I do hope they’ll be on better behavior when Agatha meets them next month.”
Knowing how much his wife was looking forward to Agatha’s visit, Marcus grinned. “You just don’t want to admit that I was right and you were wrong when it comes to the boys being little hellions. Might as well admit defeat now, love: Agatha’s going to side with me, and you know it.”
“All right, I admit it. You win.” Penny raised her head, smiling ruefully. Her new ruby and diamond earbobs, the Christmas gift he’d given her to match her necklace, caught the light of the fire and glittered richly against her dark hair.
He touched one earring. “These suit you.”
“I love them, and I love you. Which reminds me—I’ve a gift for you, too.” She left the bed to retrieve it.
Watching the delightful sway of his wife’s ass, he waggled his brows and said, “Didn’t you just give it to me?”
She tossed him a saucy wink over her shoulder. “That was your Christmas present.” She plucked something from her vanity and returned to the bed, handing him a black velvet box. “This is to celebrate our anniversary.”
It struck him then.
“The first time we met was on Christmas,” he murmured. “All those years ago.”
She smiled. “Precisely. Now aren’t you going to open the box?”
He sat up and removed the lid. A handsome gold watch lay nestled against the white satin lining. Lifting it out, he admired it, saying, “Thank you, darling. It’s a fine piece.”
“It’s engraved,” she said.
He turned it over, and his throat clogged. He ran his thumb over the elegant script.
Together through every season.
