A Spirited Affair
Page 26
“I should ask that of you.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “I wish to ask a great deal more than forgiveness, but words seem to get in the way.”
“So they do. I cannot imagine where you dredge up your ponderous vocabulary, Mark.” She tugged him into the straw. “If I tell you plainly and simply that I love you and want above all things to marry you, can we get to the buttons?”
He kissed her cheek and her throat. “A belted earl,” he told her somewhat breathlessly, “does not tumble his countess in a barn.”
“Dear me, no,” she said in a mockingly prim voice. “That would not be seemly. How about later tonight, in my bedroom?”
He choked. “Absolutely not.” With effort, he pulled away and came to his feet on unsteady legs. “In the morning, while you pack, I’ll find a bishop and see to a special license. As it happens, I know of a vicar not many miles from here, and friends who will be delighted to witness the ceremony.” Taking her hands, he tugged her up and into his arms. “You’ll like Robin and Mary, sweetheart. And my godson Trevor. I expect he’ll make an excellent Prime Minister someday. Anna will adore him, and she can stay at Kerrington Lodge while we take our wedding trip.”
“Don’t I have any say in all this?” She stamped her foot ineffectually on the straw. “Perhaps I fancy an engagement ball and a huge society wedding.”
He felt himself flush. “Old habits die hard, sweetheart. Be patient with me. Of course, we can have a formal ceremony. Just tell me what you want.”
“I want,” she said baldly, “for you to make love to me, but we shall do things in proper order so long as we do them immediately. My old habits die hard, too, and I was only being difficult about the wedding. You do have a lamentable tendency to give orders, Mark, and I’ve an equally annoying tendency to defy them. It’s fortunate, don’t you think, that we are both partial to fireworks?”
He laughed. “Never doubt I’d like to setoff rockets with you tonight, sweetheart, but we have a devilishly clever daughter and she . . . dear Lord, that sounds so very good. A daughter. Our daughter.” Suddenly, he frowned. “You don’t suppose she will mind?”
“Anna? Oh, she’ll get used to you, my very proper Earl. Anna has no patience with snobs, but you won her respect in the sheep pasture. I’m afraid she’ll prod you unmercifully for a pony now that she knows what a soft touch you are.”
“How will she feel about the move to London?” he asked uncertainly. “For that matter, how do you feel about giving up the farm? I hate to demand it of you, after all you’ve accomplished here.”
“Personally, I don’t care if I never see another sheep,” she declared. “And at long last, you’ll get to hire that damnable bailiff you’ve always wanted. As for Anna, since I returned from London, she has implored me at least five times a day to take her there, so with a pony and at least one puppy for company, she’ll be happy. As I see it, there remains only one obstacle.”
“Then I shall eliminate it.” He took a deep breath. “What is it?”
“Jaspers!” She tugged at his jacket with , both hands. “I will not live in the same house with that idiot, and if you won’t fire him, I will!”
“Ah, Jaspers.” Smiling, Mark kneaded her waist with firm fingers. “The day you left, he insulted you. I threw him out. His sister, too.”
“Hell’s bells, did you really?” She rewarded him with a kiss on his chin and then leaned back in the circle of his arms, regarding him with a glint in her eye. “Er . . . Mark, while we are on the subject of annoying and intrusive creatures, I am not exactly partial to swans.”
He ruffled her curly hair. “The only swan I know is now swimming on Ivor Malory’s pond. Do you mind?”
“I think it’s wonderful,” she sniffled. “And I’m about to cry, My Lord Earl. Say something pompously stupid to stop me.”
“Be quiet, Jillian,” he whispered against her lips. “Try to look pleasant. Stand straight. Be vacuous. Behave. Conduct yourself in a civilized manner.” He deepened the kiss. “Love me.”
The End
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About the Author
Lynn Kerstan, former college professor, folksinger, professional bridge player, and nun, is the author of sixteen romance novels and four novellas, all set in Regency England.
A five-time RITA Finalist (one win), she is regularly featured on awards lists. Since Romantic Times launched its Top Picks feature, every Kerstan novel has been a Top Pick. The Golden Leopard and Heart of the Tiger were selected by Library Journal for its Best Books of the Year list (2002 and 2003), and Dangerous Passions was named to Booklist’s Top Ten Romances of 2005 list.
Formerly a teacher of English literature and writing at the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. and the University of San Diego, Kerstan now conducts online popular-fiction workshops for writers groups and speaks at conferences. An internet junkie, she blogs about life, books and travel at StoryBroads.com, where her cat’s posts are far more popular than her own.
When not roaming the world, Kerstan lives an exemplary life in Coronado, California, where she plots her stories while riding her boogie board, walking on the beach, and watching Navy SEALs jog by.
Visit Lynn at StoryBroads.com.