Page 58 of Earl Crazy
“Hush.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Of course not. You’re quite right.”
After the debacle with Harriett and Lord Wyle, there’d been no signs of the Prestwick curse. Indeed, they’d been so deliriously happy together, that Tilly chose to believe the ancient curse that had plagued the Prestwick family for so long had seen fit to reverse itself, and become a blessing, instead.
“Look, Kit. Some of Lady Fosberry’s roses are still in bloom.” From here, she could just make out a few deep pink and bright yellow blooms, like splashes of paint against the gray canvas of the late summer sky.
“So they are.” He led her across the garden to the few remaining blossoms, smiling down at her as she pressed her nose to the petals and inhaled. “Very pretty indeed, Lady Prestwick. Perhaps we should grow roses in the hothouses this winter.”
“What a wonderful idea.” They’d lived in the cottage for some months after their wedding, and she could have happily remained there, but as the sharpest pain from his uncle’s death had begun to fade, Kit had declared himself ready to take possession of Prestwick House.
So, they’d left Kent to come to London in the most unfashionable month of the year to open the house, baby Samuel tucked into his basket on the seat between them.
He’d been ever so good, too. He’d hardly cried at all, and he had the most darling red curls and the loveliest bright dark eyes. She couldn’t look at him without smiling.
He was a most superior child, and a Prestwick, through and through.
“When do you suppose Harriett and Lord Fairmont will arrive?” Kit asked as they resumed their walk toward Fosberry House. “Did Harriett write?”
“She did. They expect to be here by the end of the month.” She bit her lip. “I do hope her second season isn’t an utter disaster, Kit. I can’t bear to see her disappointed again.”
“I know, love.” He squeezed her hand. “I think she has a fair chance of making a decent match. It’s fortunate we married so quickly. It helped distract the gossips from Harriett’s, er, misstep with Wyle.”
It was the truth. Lord Wyle hadn’t been as fortunate, however. His shameful gaming debts had been exposed, and between that and the whispered rumors of his questionable behavior with Lady Harriett, thetonhad quite turned on him. The last she’d heard, he’d retreated to the Continent, and had no plans to return to London.
But while Harriett had escaped relatively unscathed, the gossip about Tilly and her sisters had been deafening. “Dear me!” Tilly let out an exaggerated sigh. “Another of London’s most sought-after noblemen, taken in by those dreadful Templeton sisters!”
Kit grinned. “Enchantresses, each and every one of them.”
“Poor, dear Lord Prestwick.” She shook her head. “I daresay he’ll live to regret his choice.”
“I daresay he won’t.” He caught her around the waist, pulled her close, and brought his mouth down on hers, teasing at the seam of her lips with a seductive stroke of his tongue.
She opened at once. He had quite the loveliest lips she’d ever tasted, and she never could resist his kisses.
They were so lost in each other, that neither of them heard the front door open until a loud “Ahem!” made them spring apart.
Lady Fosberry stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised, looking very stern indeed, but for the smile twitching at her lips. “Really, Christopher, have you no self-control? And you, Tilly! Disgraceful. If the two of you would be so good as to unhand each other, we may proceed indoors.”
“I beg your pardon, my lady.” Kit led Tilly up the stairs and into the entryway. “You may blame Lady Prestwick, for being so irresistible.”
“Shame on you, Christopher. Everyone knows the gentleman is always to blame for such things. Now come along, both of you. I can’t wait to show them to you!”
“We can’t wait to see them,” Kit said as they followed Lady Fosberry into the entryway.
“Have you heard from Euphemia, Tilly?” Lady Fosberry asked as they made their way to the servants’ back staircase. “I’ve written her, but I haven’t heard a word in reply. I do hope she doesn’t intend to change her mind about helping Harriett this season. I need her matchmaking expertise. I don’t like to take any chances on London’s noblemen after Lord Wyle turned out to be such a scoundrel.”
“You needn’t worry, my lady. Phee is in Oxfordshire at the moment, but she’s promised to come for the entire season, and she will.”
Phee had been as good as her word. Instead of languishing in Hambleden, she’d spent a month in London after their wedding, and since then she’d been flitting back and forth between Juliet and Helena in Oxfordshire, and Emmeline at Melrose House in Kent, where she was a great favorite with Lord Melrose’s three younger sisters. They’d all spent Christmas there together, and one would never have guessed, to see Phee’s smiles and hear her laughter, that she was anything less than utterly content.
But a lady could never fool her sisters. For all her gaiety, loneliness seemed to cling to Phee still, and it was a loneliness none of them could help with, no matter how much they might want to, because it was a loneliness of the heart.
“Here we are.” Lady Fosberry opened the door to the kitchen, and hurried over to a basket in the corner. “I keep them here, as it’s the warmest place in the house. Aren’t they the most precious things imaginable?”
As it turned out, Lucius had a reason for his sneaky visits to Prestwick Cottage. He was having a grand affair with a pretty white and tan King Charles Cavalier spaniel that had been one of Kit’s Uncle Freddy’s hunting dogs.
The result of this romance was nine wriggling, snuffling puppies, half of them white, like Lucius, and the other half with the same brown markings as their mother.
And there was one…
