Chapter Twelve
The dawn sunwas just rising when Eugie returned from a visit to the nursery. She slipped beneath the covers where her handsome, drowsy husband awaited her.
“Mmm,” Cam, Earl of Hertford, mumbled, drawing her body against his and burying his face in her throat. “Where have you been, my love?”
“I was feeding our precious little Julia,” she said, kissing the slash of Cam’s cheekbone and wrapping her arms around him.
Their tiny daughter was still a source of amazement for Eugie, and although most ladies used wet nurses to feed their babes, she refused to accept the practice. It meant long nights and less sleep than she had been accustomed to before, but she had no regrets when she held their child in her arms. Many nights, Cam joined her, but this evening, she had hated to wake him when she had gone on her evening sojourn.
She was rather relieved she had not, considering what she had witnessed on her return.
“How is our precious cherub?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her neck in the place that never failed to make her shiver with appreciation.
“Sweet as ever.” She rubbed her hands slowly up and down her husband’s strong back, reveling in his strength and vitality. “Do you know, I do believe there is a bit of wickedness happening at this country house party?”
Cam rolled her to her back and aligned his body with hers. The delicious feeling of him against her chased all thoughts from her mind for a moment.
“There could be more wickedness happening,” he growled, giving the bare curve of her shoulder a tender nip.
And to think, he had once been known as the Prince of Proper.
She smiled, love for him rising steady and strong, mingling with desire. “I believe I saw Lady Felicity Hughes and Blade sneaking through the halls.”
Cam kissed his way back up to her lips. “Matchmaking your sisters have been up to gone awry?”
“Mayhap,” she said. “Mayhap not.”
There was every chance that was the reason Lady Felicity had been gadding about with Eugie’s half brother, Blade.
She brushed a rakish forelock that had fallen over her husband’s forehead aside. “Do you think I should speak with her aunt?”
“That dragon?” Cam gave a mock shudder. “I would not. I do seem to recall a Christmas country house party here at Abingdon Hall where a great deal of sneaking about in darkened corridors occurred.”
He was speaking of them, of course. “And look at how excellently that sneaking turned out.”
The grin he gave her melted her heart. “I could not agree more, Lady Hertford.”
He kissed her. And it was quite some time before either of them had a thing more to say.
Blade awoke toan empty bed, dazzling light shining in through the window dressings, and a shocking realization.
He was in love.
He would never, as long as he lived, understand how he woke with that thought on his mind, the declaration written on his heart. But he had. And it was true. Shockingly, utterly mad. And true. The unrelenting knowledge that last night had changed everything—that mayhap, even, everything had changed the moment he had first stared into Felicity’s hazel eyes—could not be denied.
“Spoony prick,” he muttered.
Aye, that was what he was. A spoony, stupid arsehole. What had he been thinking, inviting an innocent lady to his chamber? What had he expected would come of such lunacy? Holding her afterward, talking all night long. Fetching her biscuits from the kitchens as if he were her fucking footman.
And then to wake this morning, realizing the unthinkable had happened and Blade Winter had fallen in love—with aladyat that?Hell, it was too much.Hewas too much.
Escorting her to her chamber in the early hours of the morning through the shadows had been pure and utter torture. But he had told himself he must be firm. That the lady had made herself clear—she needed to marry a wealthy lord, and while Blade had plenty of blunt, he would never be an earl or a bloody duke.
His mind hurt. He tried to turn it to something else. Anything else. Frantically, his eyes scoured the chamber for any signs Felicity had indeed spent hours in his chamber with him the night before. That he had not dreamed the entire affair. There was nary a hint of her, save the scent of her on his bedclothes. Seductive woman and jasmine.
His cockstand was instant and aching. None of these realizations were helping matters one whit.
Belatedly, it occurred to him that there could only be one source for the unusual morning light radiating from behind the curtains.
