“So, different than I am?”
He conjured two images. One of Margery propped up with pillows as she lay on a chaise longue on the terrace watching their daughters play. The other with Anne frolicking after a rambunctious puppy and falling into the lake. “Yes. I suppose so.” What was she getting at? He peered down at her. “Why? Is that a bad thing?”
“No. No. I was only wondering.”
“Although I do think you both have things in common.”
Her hand on his arm stiffened, and her voice seemed controlled. “Such as?”
Pursing his lips, he gave it some thought, choosing his words carefully. “It’s true you speak your mind where Margery held hertongue, but I’ve witnessed the kindness you’ve shown to my daughters. You have a good heart, Anne.”
The pressure on his arm lessened, and her voice softened. “No one has ever told me I had a good heart.”
His steps faltered, then stopped completely. When he peered down at her, tears shimmered in her eyes. “No one? Ever?” Her family seemed a good sort. Kind, caring. Why wouldn’t they ever praise her compassion?
With an insouciant shrug, she said, “Not with those words. When people describe me, they say I’m flighty, naïve. A flirt. Immature.”
He couldn’t deny he’d thought those exact things himself when he’d first met her. Wisely, he held his tongue and returned to her inquiry. “Why do you ask about Margery?”
She tore her gaze away. “I was simply curious. I don’t want the girls to think I’m trying to take their mother’s place. It would help if I knew a little about her.”
His mind blinked. “That is...incredibly thoughtful. But my hope is that you will become their mother. In spirit if not in flesh.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “And one day, I hope we shall have a child together.”
As they searched the house for Cassie and Ellie, Colin’s mind drifted to the future. Colin had experienced some trepidation when Andrew had confided Anne’s age to him. He needed at least one son, preferably two, to secure the lineage.
But after that earth-shattering kiss, he was confident that they wouldn’t fail for lack of trying. In fact, as they strolled through the house with Anne’s hand resting on his arm, he fantasized not only about teaching his sons to ride, hunt, and fish, but of making said sons with Anne.
Both prospects buoyed him, and he found his steps much lighter than they had been the last few years. Even when Margery had been well, and although there had been affection between them and she’d accepted their coupling with grace, there had been little true passion, even on his part.
Anne, however, responded so thoroughly, he hadn’t exaggerated when he’d broken their kiss and told her he’d reached the limit of his restraint. Although she had agreed to marry him, it would not do to be found ravishing her in his sister’s parlor. He would, however, look forward to their marital bed with great eagerness.
“Miss Weatherby. Anne?”
His Nymph of Nuisance peered up at him, those blue eyes no longer masked with tears, but wide and clear.
“Might you call me Colin?” He grinned at her. Damn, but it felt wonderful to do that. He’d had so little to smile about as of late. “I’d much prefer it to Lord Grump.”
Red bloomed on her cheeks, much like the color of the roses she held. “I’m sorry you heard that.”
He hitched a brow at her. “Are you? I rather thought you meant to put me in my place.”
Her blush deepened. “Perhaps.”
Laughing, he patted her hand. “Not to worry. I had a few names for you myself.”
“Such as?”
He shook his head. “A gentleman never tells. Suffice to say, most had to do with your petite stature and bewitching quality.”
“You find me bewitching?” She appeared quite pleased.
Perhaps he wasn’t so bad at this wooing thing after all.
Upon stopping a footman, he requested Anne’s roses be placed in a vase in her room. Then they continued their search for his elusive daughters.
They found the girls playing with a hoop and stick out on the terrace. Ellie caught sight of them first, then tapped Cassie on the shoulder.
As she turned toward him, the expression on his eldest daughter’s face was priceless. Chagrin mixed with surprise, knowing she would be reprimanded, but appearing quite pleased with what she presumed, correctly, had resulted from her mischievousness.
