He lifted his head. “On?”
“Mm-hmm. To, um. To Scotland.”
His brows drew together. “Why Scotland? Surely you don’t still want to go after Matilda. I’m afraid they’re long gone—”
“No, no. I don’t—I’m not thinking of them. I’m only thinking of you and me, Henry.”
He gave her a bemused look, one hand still cupped over her bottom. “All right. If you fancy a trip to Scotland, I’m at your disposal.”
“No, I—” She groaned and rolled off him, flopping onto the mattress at his side. “I am suggesting weelope,you perfect blockhead. Did you not say you wanted to marry?”
He lay perfectly still at her side.
She poked him. “I haven’t killed you, have I?”
“You—want to elope?” His voice sounded quite peculiar.
“Yes. Please. If you still want to.” She turned onto her side, propping herself on one elbow to look at him. “I don’t want six babies though, Henry, so if that’s a condition of the deal, I’d like to negotiate it down to one or two—”
He kissed her. It was a long, slow slide of his lips over hers, and somewhere in the sweet drugging pleasure, she heardyes.She heardmineand she heardforever,and it might have been Henry’s voice or her own.
