Chapter Four
“My darling Mrs.Winter.” Devereaux Winter could not keep the smile from his lips as he greeted his beloved wife Emilia that evening in their chamber.
She was holding their infant son, Charles, in her arms, and she had never been more beautiful. Although theirs had begun as a marriage of convenience, it had quickly turned into an affair of the heart. Each day, he loved her more than the last. He was besotted with his wife, and he did not care who knew it.
“My love,” she said softly. “I was just holding him before taking him to the nursery. He is sleeping quite soundly, but I find myself hesitant to relinquish him, as always.”
She was a wonderful mama to their son. But then, he had known she would be. Gratitude swept over him as he gazed upon mother and child. His heart was so damned full.
Dev crossed the chamber and leaned down to bestow a kiss on first Emilia’s lips and then Charles’s head, taking care not to wake the sleeping babe. “There is my strong lad. Growing larger every day.”
Emilia’s smile was tender. “He has his papa’s size. Just a few months old and already so strapping.”
Dev was an immense man, he knew, with his own father’s broad shoulders and towering height. Those traits had been what made it apparent the bastard Winters—Dominic, Devil, Blade, Demon, Gavin, and Genevieve—shared a sire with him. Genevieve was tall for a lady, much like his sister Pru.
“Are you enjoying being here at Abingdon Hall for another Christmastide, darling?” he asked, though he knew the answer.
Last year’s country house party had become an annual tradition. The only difference was that last year, their primary aim had been to see his younger sisters happily married. Miraculously—and despite some scandal—they had succeeded. Each of his sisters was wed and happier than he could have hoped.
“I adore being here, as you know,” Emilia told him softly. “I am so pleased you invited your brothers and sister.”
“Half brothers and half sister,” he reminded her. Though in truth, what had begun as an acrimonious relationship between himself and the formerly secret offspring of his father had transitioned into something different.
He almostlikedthem.
Almost.
“Family,” she returned, “any way you say it.”
His wife—who possessed the heart of an angel—had been the architect of the thawing of the ice between himself and the bastard Winters. His fierce sense of family—once relegated to Emilia, their child, and his sisters and their families—had expanded. But then, Emilia had enlarged his life in so many other ways, he was hardly surprised by this latest feather in her cap.
“Family,” he agreed, unable to resist giving her tempting lips another kiss.
This one lingered. And deepened. She made a sweet, breathy sigh that undid him.
Dev forced himself to recall she was holding Charles and removed his lips from hers. “I warned Blade he is not to cause any trouble. If you hear word of any wrongdoing, I will toss him out on his arse.”
When Emilia had initially suggested they invite the other half of the Winter family—the half that hailed from the rookeries—to their country house party, he had been dubious. But Dom and Devil had married and settled down, and he had reluctantly decided to give the rest of them a chance as well.
Dom and Devil were also having babes, which meant they were not able to travel to Oxfordshire. Which also meant Dev was being saddled with the tremendous task of keeping his unruly half siblings in order.
“He will behave himself, I am certain,” Emilia said, stroking their son’s cheek, an expression stealing over her lovely face he knew too well. “I saw the way he has been watching Lady Felicity Hughes.”
“Emilia,” he said in a tone of mock warning. “Do not think it.”
“Some matchmaking could be just the thing to liven up this house party.” She flashed him a mischievous grin. “Besides, would you not like to seeallyour siblings happily settled?”
He groaned. “You did quite well last year, but this particular company of Winters is not at all the same.”
She raised a brow. “I beg to differ. You are Winters. Though you may have had vastly different upbringings, there is much in each of you that is the same. Not just your uncommon height and fierce sense of family.”
“Hmm.” He was not convinced. “You cannot be thinking of matching Lady Felicity with Blade. He just fought a duel and nearly killed the Earl of Penhurst. Lady Felicity is far too proper for a man of his sort.”
“Her aunt hinted that she must make a match, and soon. There are two younger sisters who must also have their come outs. Grace told me she sensed something between Lady Felicity and Blade. She would aid me in matchmaking, I should think.”
“Emilia.” He tried to give her a disapproving frown, but how could he when she looked so damned beautiful, holding their son?
“You missed hoodman’s blind this afternoon,” she continued, her mind already decided. “If you had seen the way the two of them looked at each other, you would understand.”
