“Thank you, Mrs. Wilton.”
She nodded, then glanced at his unbuttoned shirt before noting Lucy’s half-unpinned hair.
“That will be all, Mrs. Wilton.”
“Very good, my lord.” She still called himmy lordwith extra emphasis, and James wasn’t sure if that was for his benefit or hers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Lucy when the housekeeper departed.
“It’s all right. She’s watchful. Worried about your reputation, apparently,” she teased. “Though I am glad the servants’ quarters aren’t near your bedroom.”
“Our bedroom soon.”
“Otherwise, we’d have to be quiet.”
“We’renotbeing quiet. I quite like the sounds you make.” James pulled her in for another kiss.
Lucy pushed at his chest. “Likewise, but what was she talking about? It was very mysterious.”
James wanted to slide up the fabric of her skirt and make love to his fiancée on his desktop, as they’d done once before, and as he’d been dreaming of every day since. But he forced himself to cool his wanton thoughts. He was eager to reveal the surprise he had planned for her.
“Let me show you.” He took her hand and led her from the room, down the hall, and toward the back of the house.
“You’renot disappointed, are you?” He repeated the question she’d asked him minutes before. “With this town house? This square isn’t terribly popular with your parents’ set, and this house isn’t nearly as opulent as Hallston House.”
“I love this house. It has character. And, most importantly, it has you. We’ll make it our own.”
They’d already talked of alterations they wanted to make. Lucy had as much affection for vibrant colors as her aunt, and he was happy to let her make whatever changes she saw fit.
Though there was one change he was insistent upon. It was the only thing that made him grateful she wasn’t already living with him. Keeping it a secret from her had been difficult enough for two weeks, but it was near enough to completion that he thought it was time to show her. Especially since he wanted to determine if she preferred any amendments before it was finished. He wanted the house and everything in it to feel like her own and suited to her taste.
He stopped near the stairwell.
“Maybe you should close your eyes.”
She did, but immediately peeked one open. James laughed and moved to stand behind her, lifting a hand in front of her eyes.
“May I?”
Lucy nodded. “If you must.”
It allowed him to hold her close, one hand on her waist as he walked her slowly toward her surprise.
“Ready?” he asked when they’d reached the threshold.
“Yes.” She drew out the word, already done with her moments of patience.
James withdrew his hand, and Lucy let out a breathy squeal. She crushed his hand in her grip and bounced on her toes.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“It’s still a work in progress, but I wanted your opinion.”
“My opinion is I adore it.”
“Keep going. Take a good look.”
She stepped into the conservatory as if unsure whether it would evaporate if she moved too quickly, which was so un-Lucy-like that he worried he may have misjudged. The conservatory was built in a similar style to the one at Invermere, but he’d made this one wider, as big as the back garden would permit, which allowed for a higher ceiling.
