Chapter 19 #4
Clearly noting Ian’s none-too-subtle maneuver, Jordan grinned. “Congratulations, my friend. You’ve got yourself quite a wife. Though it looks as if she came with a great deal of baggage. You’re the only man I know who’d take on such a large and boisterous family for a woman.”
“She’s worth it,” he heard himself saying, realizing he meant it.
“I daresay she is.” Jordan sipped his own champagne. “You know, Emily told me something odd. She claims your wife is the famous Lord X.”
Felicity’s laughter floated on the air, making Ian’s gut tighten instantly. He gulped some champagne. “She is. So watch what you say around her. I doubt she has any intention of retiring from her profession simply because she married me.”
“And all her columns about you—”
“Were a peculiar form of courtship, you could say.” Ian watched as she stood and began speaking to the boys with an earnest expression. “Other people send gifts—Felicity and I proffer rumors about each other.”
A sudden outcry came from one of the triplets. The boy hurtled across the room toward Ian and grabbed him around the legs, sobbing into one of Ian’s knees.
Startled, Ian tousled the boy’s hair and said soothingly, “There now, what’s wrong?”
When the boy lifted a tear-streaked face to him, he recognized William by his missing tooth. “Lissy says that y-you’re taking her away to l-live with you!” William stammered between sobs. “A-And we’re to st-stay here without her!”
Felicity approached, her gaze on Ian. “I’m sorry ... I didn’t tell them until now. I knew they’d be so disappointed.”
“Please don’t take away our s-sister—we need Lissy!”
Kneeling on one knee, Ian cupped William’s damp cheeks.
“I need her, too. And you’ve got Mrs. Box to take care of you.
But who have I got? No one. Besides, it won’t be long, only a week.
On New Year’s Day, we’ll be back to fetch you all.
Then you’ll come out to my estate to live with me and your sister. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“But Christmas will be over by then!” William wailed. “We can’t have Christmas without Lissy!”
The cry tortured him. Christmas. Of course.
It had been years since he’d celebrated Christmas in more than a cursory fashion, so although he’d vaguely noted that Lissy and the boys would be separated for the holiday, he hadn’t worried about it.
He’d sent a selection of playthings to Taylor Hall sufficient to please any child and had considered himself done with the problem.
He was a bloody idiot. The woman was the nearest thing to their mother, and now he was whisking her away at Christmas.
What an oversight. What was wrong with him these days?
The Ian Lennard who’d spied for His Majesty would have recognized the importance of the boys having Felicity around for Christmas.
The Ian besotted by his wife, however, had thought only of getting her off to himself as soon as possible.
His gaze flew to Felicity, who was watching William with misty eyes. Damn. He stood and touched her arm. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Glancing away, she stammered, “A-About what?”
“You want to be here for Christmas, too, don’t you? I’m sorry, I didn’t—” He broke off with a groan. “I’m not so callous as to wrench you from your family during their holiday.”
He looked down at William’s red nose and heaving chest. Slighting her siblings wouldn’t endear him to his new wife. Yet the only solution didn’t appeal to him.
So it took him completely by surprise when he heard himself say, “How about if Lissy and I stay at Taylor Hall tonight, William? We’ll celebrate Christmas with you in the morning and leave tomorrow after Christmas dinner. Will that please you?”
William’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes! Do you hear, Lissy? We’ll have Christmas all together!” He ran off to tell his brothers.
“But it’s just for tonight!” Ian called out after the boy. Then he sighed. Another night sharing Felicity with her brothers. Bloody hell.
Felicity slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow, then kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.” She beamed at him. “But you may regret your generous gesture later when my brothers are plaguing you unmercifully.”
“I regret it now,” he grumbled, laying his hand over hers. “Perhaps I can persuade them that Father Christmas will be more likely to come early if they retire early.”
“Good luck.” Her smile turned mischievous. “They’re always so excited about Christmas. We’ll be fortunate if they sleep at all tonight.”
“Why should they? We certainly won’t.”
She looked blank, then colored and tried to remove her hand from his. “I beg your pardon. I shall sleep well. I always do when I’m in my own bed. Alone.”
“Alone?” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Absolutely not. You’re my wife now, and I won’t have your servants gossiping around London about why the Viscount St. Clair didn’t share a bed with his wife on their wedding night.”
Her dagger of a glance showed she understood his position and knew she couldn’t hope to alter it. “Very well. We’ll sleep together. But sleep is all we’ll do, Ian.”
“If you say so,” he mocked. Always his little hypocrite. Well, he’d let her keep her hypocrisy for the moment. He had all evening to strip it from her, one piece at a time.