“So you see, you would not be marrying a whore. You shall be marrying a proper young lady.” She faced him then, the resolution in her expression unyielding. “But make no mistake, my lord. You shall marry her.”
“Brandon?” Maeve’s voice was a violent slap to his face.
Harlowe jerked and found himself back in the present, sitting behind Rowena’s desk with a pile of beautiful jewelry worth thousands of pounds heaped before him. Next to the jewels was a journal and a stack of banknotes. “What is all this?”
Maeve froze, her hand flew to her neck. “Oh dear. I believe I forgot to mention how Agnes kept the house running with no one living here but her, Mary, and Stephen.”
“Might I suggest you start at the beginning?” he said calmly, while fury seethed just below the surface. He couldn’t quite understand why he was so angry. Circumstances perhaps? Feeling his wife had kept jewels from him? Or that Maeve had likely learned the truth of how he’d ended up marrying Corinne?
There was no logical reason to be annoyed with his wife. If anything, her pragmatic ways were a soothing balm to his frayed senses.
It was a good two hours before the children quieted and the household settled.
Maeve paced the thick rug in Harlowe’s chamber as hers was apparently occupied by Melinda and Penny. “I don’t understand your anger, sir. I’ve told you repeatedly, the fact I didn’t mention the contents of the safe was just an oversight. And a good portion of that fault is yours.”
He sat in a Hepplewhite chair near the open window. He propped his bare feet on the matching hassock and crossed his arms over his chest. “Myfault! This I’ve got to hear.” Which he did want to hear. He adjusted his robe over his lap to hide his growing ardor. God, how this woman affected him.
She stopped in front of him, her eyes full of accusation. “Certainly. What with our hasty wedding. Finding Penny. Meeting servants I didn’t know I’d hired.” She let out a long exhale. “Frankly, it’s been a little overwhelming.” She pulled herself back up, spearing him, her eyes flashing fire. “How the devil did you find Melinda? And howdareyou not tell me where you were off to after… after…”
“After making sweet love to you?”
“In a chair!”
“What’s wrong with a chair?”
“It doesn’t seem… natural.”
Harlowe swallowed his laugh. Oh, the future held wonderful possibilities.
“And leaving like that. I didn’t even have my clothes on.”
“I helped you don your dress. Besides, there wasn’t time to tell you. If I had, you would have insisted on coming along, and that was unacceptable.”
Her lips tightened.
He’d hit that nail on the head. He let out a sigh, his head falling back. “Isn’t the important thing that we found Mellie?”
“Her name is Melinda,” she snapped. “Yes, it’s important. But—” Her pacing started back up.
He waited until she was on her second pass then grabbed her by the wrist and, with a sharp tug, she landed on his lap. “Is she going to stay?”
“Who?” The word came out in a whispered huffed.
“Me-” He kissed her forehead. “Lin-” His lips touched the tip of her nose. “Da.” This, he whispered against her lips in a soft feathered brush.
“Yes,” she whispered back. “But she was most suspicious.”
“And now they’re asleep in your bed.”
“Yes.”
“So you are… bedless tonight?”
Her lips twitched. Another thing he adored about his wife—she had the inability to remain annoyed for long stretches of time. “It’s quite the dilemma,” she said.
He tugged her more snuggly into his body and breathed in her skin at the crook of her neck. Nipped.
She let out a tiny, most feminine, squeal.
