“You could call this Episode Two in the same series.”
“I like those sorts of programmes,” she said approvingly. “Very convenient to have all that time between viewings to work out the details of the crimes.”
He kissed her, smiled, then went to fetch what he’d found the week before in a very musty old bookshop full of all sorts of interesting things. He sat down, then handed her the treasure, wrapped as it was in discreet brown paper.
She unwrapped it, then looked at him in surprise. “‘The Duke and the Kitchen Maid,’” she said breathlessly. “The entire thing.”
“Are you going to finish it now?”
She studied the book in her hands for several moments in silence, then looked at him. “I’m very grateful for the gift and I will treasure it,” she said slowly, “but I don’t think I’ll read it.”
“Really?” he asked, though he was smiling as he said it. “And why is that, my lady?”
“Because, my lord, I’ll write my own story.”
He was utterly unsurprised. He leaned back against the couch and studied her thoughtfully. “What sort of tale will it be?”
She slipped her hand into his. “A tale of adventure, great battles won, and hedges vanquished.”
He shot her a look, but she only smiled.
“It will be a love story,” she assured him.
“Whose?”
“Ours.”
“Shall we go add a chapter to it where the happy couple actually sleeps for a change?”
“They can sleep tomorrow,” she said. “I think they have other things to do tonight.”
Who was he to argue with that? He laughed and pulled her up with him to go indulge in a bit more of that not-sleeping business.
He woke somewhere during the middle of the night and experienced a moment of panic when he looked to his right and didn’t see Mairead lying next to him. He realized, however, that her toes were wedged beneath his calf which was somewhat reassuring. He lifted the covers to find her reading by flashlight. He noted the title, then clucked his tongue.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I had to know how it ended.”
He made himself more comfortable in her cave and smiled at her. “Finished yet?”
“Not yet.”
“What’s happened so far?”
“Well,” she said, glancing at him briefly, “there have been many scorching looks, a handful of equally incendiary kisses, and a single reference to what I’m too much a lady to name.”
He put his arm under his head and made himself a bit more comfortable still, though he had to pull the covers off from over their heads before claustrophobia did him in.
“You know,” he said slowly, “We’ve been married for a handful of months now and there has been quite a bit of that sort of activity—”
“Oliver,” she said, shooting him a look, her face flaming.
He leaned up, kissed her sweetly, then put his head back down. “Very well, my lady. I will remain discreetly silent on the matter.”
She blew her fringe out of her eyes and flipped a page, but she was still blushing. He tried to see how much more she still had to go, but she turned the book so he couldn’t.
“Look at your mobile,” she said, glancing at him briefly.
