Purity picked up the other one, not an exact replica but the same gray and white coat.
“We have one with gray eyes, and this one” — she held it up so he could see — “has green eyes. Very pretty.”
“I was up most of the night,” he told her, “as I mentioned. Thus, I confess I am feeling a little bewattled. Did you say they are here to live withus, meaning with you and me?”
He was unable to breathe while he waited for her answer.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Purity answered quickly, putting him out of his misery. “Yes, I did. If you are agreeable to having them.”
Matthew’s face broke into a broad grin, and he put the kitten back into the basket before reaching for the one in her hands and restoring it to its sibling.
Then he drew her to standing and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close so she could feel the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat.
Then he looked down at her, his amber eyes glistening.
“I don’t care if you bring a pride of lions with you, as long as you are still marrying me.”
“That’s good,” she said, taking his face in her hands. “I left the lions on the doorstep.”
He barked out a shaky laugh before bending low and claiming her mouth under his. As he tilted his head, she parted her lips to allow him entrance, relishing his tongue stroking hers. She didn’t know how long they kissed, giving, taking, heating up and sizzling all over, but Purity would have been content to spend the day doing nothing more.
However, the kittens were mewling pitifully.
After Foxford had thoroughly ravished her mouth, he rested his forehead upon hers.
“I was certain I knew why you had come.”
“And you were wrong.”
“Thank God!” He sucked in a long breath. “May I explain about Diana?”
“If you wish. Shall we partake of the wonderful tea service? I would feel awful if the maid came to collect it and found a full pot as well as untouched platters. Imagine her showing your cook our ingratitude.”
He tilted back his head and laughed. “Heaven forbid we insult my maid and cook.”
After she sat, Foxford dragged the other chair next to hers.
“Now I wish we had the blasted sofa so we could sit close.”
“You must stop swearing, at least in front of the child,” she admonished to hide her own wish for a horizontal surface and some privacy with him.
Picking up her cup, she sipped while watching the kittens try to get out of the deep-sided basket.
“Diana will love them,” he promised. Then he added, “You should have said something to stop me going on and on.”
“You know how I feel about interrupting.” Reaching for a biscuit, she added, “It is nearly as bad as vulgarisms.”
After a pause, in which Purity hoped he didn’t make her ask for the story, he said, “I shall get this all out at once. I knew Diana’s motherbeforeI left England.”
And by the way he said “knew,” it was clear to Purity what he meant.
“It was probably three years ago,” he added. “She had fallen into the suds, finding no way to support herself except one. I didn’t know she had a totiken already, hidden away. When I came back to England, her solicitor found me within a day. He’d been awaiting my return. Her mother had passed away, and Diana was living at the Infant Orphan Asylum in Wanstead.”
“How terrible,” Purity said, setting down her cup. “I am sure some of those places are comfortable, but I’ve read stories of dreadful conditions.”
“Truthfully, I feared what I would find. Fortunately, it wasn’t too bad, but it was crowded. The asylum isn’t a very old place, and it was built of white stone with turrets topped by cupolas. Very uplifting, I thought. And I shall never forget the touching inscription over the door— ‘A structure of hope built on the foundation of faith by the hand of charity.’Her mother had secured Diana a place when she fell ill since I was nowhere to be found.”
