“Just think, you created two couples when you ran away to Scotland.”
“Do you know Mrs. Goatsocks had the nerve to tell me that she decided to give you her blessing to take me to Northumbria the moment she discovered you were the viscount?”
“What?”
“That’s right. Apparently, she already had in mind that we’d make an excellent match for each other. ‘No better way to form a match than to let down one’s strictures for a bit.’ She said it with a wink. Can you imagine?”
Christian nearly fell off the bed laughing. “No, actually. No, I cannot imagine.”
Then he kissed Sarah again, long and deeply, and when he raised his head, she had a contented smile on her face. “You know, I think I shall quite like living in the north most of the time.”
“You won’t miss—what did Branford call them?—theamusementsof London?”
“I only want to be where you are.” She rested her chin against his shoulder.
“I think I can manage to bring my wife to town from time to time. Whatever you like. My home is wherever you want to be.” He hugged her close.
“We may want to stay up here for a while. At least until Mother and Father come to terms with our marriage and Lucy works her magic.”
“Lucy?” Christian asked. “What magic is she working now?”
“Oh, she fully intends to scrub my reputation clean. She’s already begun.”
Christian’s crack of laughter bounced against the walls. “All of my money is on her. Make no mistake.”
“I agree. I fully expect us to be back in theton’s good graces again in a matter of days.”
“But in the meantime?”
“In the meantime, I think we should remain here and do wicked things. I might as well earn the reputation I’ve got.”
Another crack of laughter. “You mean like how I found you quietly knitting a sweater?”
“I think we can think of things much more wicked than that.”
“Like chess?”
Her fingers traveled slowly down to where the quilt covered him below the waist. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
An hour later, after he’d thoroughly made love to his wife again, Christian met her in the kitchen to partake of the stew she’d made. “I’m famished,” he said as she set about preparing the biscuits, just as she’d done all those months ago.
“I am, too.” She blushed at his leering look.
She set out the wine and served the stew.
Just before Christian took his first bite, Sarah said, “What do you think poor Branford will do?”
“Find someone as interested in himself as he is, no doubt. Thetonis full of ladies who will put up with a great deal to become a marchioness.”
“It’s sad but true.” Sarah sighed. “Perhaps Lady Claire would be a good candidate. Branford does have a penchant for the belles of the Season.”
“I think they might makequitea fine couple, actually.”
Sarah laughed. “Yes, well, they’re welcome to each other. I must turn my attention to helping Meg find a proper husband. Lucy and Cass have agreed to help.”
“What about the man Meg is helplessly in love with?”
“Unfortunately,heis not an option.” Sarah sighed again.
