Nathaniel cast a sly glance at Henrietta and then rolled towards his father and put his mouth to Oliver’s ear and whispered.
“Yes,” Oliver said when Nathaniel was done. “That is a very bad dream. But it’s not going to happen, all right?”
Nathaniel lay back. “All right.”
“Maybe Nathaniel better stay here until he falls asleep,” Henrietta said to Oliver, still a trifle anxious about what her amorous husband might think of that idea.
“An excellent notion.” Oliver lay back himself, his head next to Nathaniel’s on the pillow. “As long as you tell us both the caterpillar story.”
So, for what seemed, and might actually be, the thousandth time, Henrietta began the story of the caterpillar who liked to crawl and creep and climb.
It didn’t take long for both of the Hartwell men’s eyes to close, for Nathaniel’s face to go slack. Henrietta reached out and stroked the shining curl in the middle of her husband’s forehead.
“He’s asleep,” she whispered.
“So am I,” Oliver whispered back. But his actions belied his words. He opened his eyes and in the quick, graceful way hehad, he scooped Nathaniel up in his arms and padded across the room.
He turned at the door. “I expect you to be unclothed by the time I return,” he growled.
Henrietta shed her dressing gown and chemise as soon as the door closed, wriggling into the warmth of the bed with anticipatory delight.
Shelovedwhen Oliver growled at her.
In only a few minutes, Oliver was back in her bedchamber, stripping off his shirt.
“I missed you,” she said with a pretend-pout as Oliver climbed into the bed, under the covers, but over her.
He kissed the base of her throat. “I’m sorry I was occupied by escorting our young chaperone back to his own bed.”
She threw her arms around his neck, and he lowered his full weight onto her. What a pleasure it was to have his body against hers. His smooth skin. His spare, hard form. She let her hands run over his shoulders and his sharp shoulder blades. Her husband.
“I hope you were not too jealous about another male in my bed,” she teased.
He pulled his head back and assessed her with his gray eyes.
“No. Not Nathaniel. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Mrs. Hartwell has enough love for both of us. We will never go wanting for that.”
“That’s true. And maybe there’s enough love for more?”
He was off of her and onto the mattress at her side before she could clutch at him and keep him on top of her.
“More? As in more children?”
Without thought, her hand went to her lower belly. “One more, at least.”
His hand joined hers, cupping her soft roundness. “And you are well?”
“Very well,” she assured him. “So far.”
“So far? How far is that?”
“Oh,” she temporized. “Not so very far.” He waited. “Two or three months, I think.”
His eyebrows went down into a deepV. “Two or three months? Why did you keep it from me for so long?”
“I was not sure . . . it had really taken. And, of course, I wanted to be sure you would continue to come to my bed once I was with child.”
“Just try to keep me out of your bed.” He took her mouth with a fierceness that made her shiver.
