“It is,” he admitted. “I don’t think any of us will be truly complete without each other. So what we will do, my dear, is follow that man to London and not give up until he agrees to our terms.”
She wrapped her arms around him with a girlish squeal and hugged him so tight that he almost couldn’t breathe. “This is my favorite birthday,” she whispered.
He leaned back and smiled at her, then slowly lowered her back on the settee. “I agree. It will only be better when we win him.”
She let out a long sigh and drew his mouth to hers. “Tomorrow,” she murmured.
“Tomorrow,” he agreed, and covered her again, completely certain of this decision. He only hoped that together, he and Merritt could make Peter feel the same way.
CHAPTER14
Peter
Peter had only been back in London for thirty-six hours, but he was already waist-deep in duties for his next play, which was to open in only a fortnight. Normally, he would have been lost in the minutia of every detail, but this time…
Well, this time he felt like he was only going through the motions as he addressed set decisions and listened to the chosen actors rehearse the lines he had so carefully crafted.
It had gotten so bad that he’d finally just excused himself and gone back to his townhouse. Now he swung off his horse, handing over the reins to his man, and started up the stairs.
His butler, Ford, met him at the door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Reid. We weren’t expecting you so early.”
Peter shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell Ford that the reason he wasn’t at the theatre was because his mind kept turning on the Marquess and Marchioness of Egerton. That would be a little too honest.
“Not feeling myself, I fear,” he said. “I think I might have a lie down and then head back in a few hours.” Peter started toward the stairs.
“Yes, sir.” Ford shut the door. “I do need to inform you that you have visitors. I told them that you might not return until late, but they insisted on staying until you were back.”
Peter froze on the first step and turned back, staring at the servant. “Visitors,” he repeated softly. He knew who these visitors were. “Lord and Lady Egerton?”
Ford blinked, as if surprised that he could guess with such specificity. “Er, yes, sir. That is correct.”
Peter’s hands began to shake and he smoothed them along the front of his trousers gently. “I will see them,” he said softly. “In fact, if you’d like to take the afternoon off with pay, you and the rest of the staff, I would like to offer that.”
Ford’s eyes went wide. “I…of course, sir. I will tell Franny and Nan, as well as Buckley and Winston. I’m sure they will be very pleased.”
“Good,” Peter said, and smiled as Ford inclined his head and hurried off to tell the kitchen staff, maid, footman and driver. They would all scatter within half an hour, he assumed. Enough time to have this encounter, and then…
Well, he couldn’t imagine then what. It all depended upon what Elliot and Merry had come here to say. It would be life altering, though. He only knew that for certain.
He moved to the parlor door and drew a few long breaths before he opened it and stepped inside.
Merry and Elliot were seated together on his settee and they both jumped to their feet as he entered. For a moment there was only silence between them all as they all stared like they’d been parted for months, not days. Peter’s hand shook as he reached back and shut the door. Locked the door.
He didn’t want interruptions, whether the two had come for better or for worse.
“I feel like I have imagined you two in my home for so long, I almost cannot tell if this is real,” he said at last.
Merry smiled slightly, her nervousness clear. “It is very real,” she assured him.
Peter let his gaze slide to Elliot. The marquess was, of course, much harder to read than his wife. That habit had not died, no matter what had happened since Peter’s departure from the cottage.
“May I get you something to drink?” Peter asked, motioning to the fully stocked sideboard. “I’ve excused the servants, but I’m capable of making tea if you’d prefer.”
Elliot made a low grumble in his throat and then came across the room in a few long strides. “We didn’t come here for bloody tea,” he snapped before he caught Peter around the waist and drew him up against him, crushing his mouth down on his in desperation.
Peter let out a long moan as he wrapped his arms around Elliot’s neck and returned the kiss, reveling in this man’s taste. In the command that he wielded…except in those lovely moments where he handed it over to Peter.
At last, they pulled away from each other, and Elliot leaned back and motioned to Merry to join them. “Kiss your love, my love.”
