Page 64 of Who’s That Earl

Surprise jerked through him, causing the reins in his hands to twitch and the horses to slow. With a soft chirrup, he urged them back to their steady pace before turning to Jane. “Who asked you to?”

Still stiff, she turned warily toward him. “I realize we had not discussed…” Beneath the lap blanket, one hand made a restless circle, a gesture that might have been intended to take in any number of things. “But I feared you might not think it proper for your countess to…”

“As it seems you may not be well acquainted with the lass, I’ll just tell you that my countess has a mind of her own. Nor am I overmuch concerned with propriety, if it comes to that.”

She weighed his response for a moment. The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves was loud in the stillness. “You’ll also be marrying a woman with a substantial fortune to her name. Though according to the law, everything I have will be yours.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “A scandal, if you ask me, but I canna change the law on my own, lass. I can only tell you I intend to order the solicitor to draw up papers to settle what’s yours however you see fit.” He shifted the reins to one hand so that he might slip the other beneath the heavy wool lap blanket in search of hers. “On our children, if you wish it,” he said, curling his fingers around one tightly balled fist.

Leaning forward just enough to peep around the fur edge of her hood, he watched her cheeks pink, and the slightest curve of a smile rise to her lips. “Do you suppose one day they’ll learn the truth and wish their inheritance had come from some more respectable source?”

“An’ who, may I ask, is raisin’ these bairns, that they haven’t the sense God gave a goose?” That earned him one of those tinkling laughs he loved so much. He squeezed her fingers again. “What’s more respectable than a book that makes folks happy?”

“Did you—?” She sounded hopeful, though she tried to hide it when she spoke again. “Of course, you must have found the volume of The Necromancer’s Bride I left for you.”

“I did, though not at first. It was some weeks before I could bring myself to go into your study.”

That too seemed to surprise her. “Oh. Well, when you did find it, did you finish the story?”

“Not yet. You may recall, I had to see to my own happy ending first.”

Her head tipped to the side. “If you haven’t read it, how can you be so sure Ophelia and Ruthveyn’s story ends well for them?”

“Well, now, I had considered that her family might drag her away from Ruthveyn, and then the miserable sot would cast some spell or the like to turn everyone to stone, including himself…” He leaned forward a bit farther, trying to see her expression. “But I realized if they’d been punished for wanting each other, if you’d made their story into a tragedy, your readers wouldn’t be so wild for it. And those high and lofty critics wouldn’t have been half so unhappy with you.”

Freeing one hand, she pushed her hood back slightly and turned to face him with wide, bright eyes, as if she couldn’t otherwise take in what he’d said. As if she’d never considered it in quite that light before.

“I’m proud of you, lass,” he insisted. “An’ if we’re blessed with children, they’ll be proud too. My only regret is that so much of Robin Ratliff’s reputation rests on that aura of mystery he cultivates. I’d dearly love to shout the truth from the north tower of Dunnock Castle, so the whole world knows what you’ve done.”

Her chest rose and fell in a little huff of laughter. “The north tower? Unless there’s a creature dwelling in the depths of the loch, who would hear you if you did?”

“There could be,” he insisted with a wink. “But one fantastic story at a time. First, you’ve got to get the brigand and his lass—what’s her name?”

“Allora.”

“—out of that glowing cave in one piece. An’ what it is they’ve found again?”

“A rare, luminescent gem.”

“Worth its weight in gold, I suppose.”

“More,” she agreed with another ringing laugh. “And you’re right. Mr. Canfield is most anxious to receive the completed manuscript. When we reach Balisaig, I must write out the ending and send it off, first thing.”

He released his grip on her fingers to shake free of his driving glove and slide his hand onto her knee. “First thing? I confess I had something else in mind for our first night at Dunnock as husband and wife.”

“Husband and wife?” Sounding skeptical, she shifted slightly beneath the heat of his palm. “I know what was in my heart when we knelt together and clasped hands in Edinburgh. But I don’t think even Scottish marriage laws are quite that lax. I cannot possibly stay with you at Dunnock until we’re actually married. And unless something has changed, Balisaig is short a clergyman.”

“Dinna fash yourself, lass.” Beneath the lap blanket, he tugged at her skirts, inching them slowly higher. “I’ve a surprise for you.”

Her breath quickened as his fingertips brushed over the soft skin of her thighs. “Thomas,” she scolded. “Hand me the reins.”

“Aye?” he teased with both his whispered words and his touch. “Did you want my undivided attention?”

“Most certainly. Otherwise, you’re going to land us in a ditch.” With an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, she reached across both their bodies with her right hand and grasped the reins, even as beneath the blanket, she eased her legs apart, inviting him into her softness. “This is still my curricle. And I won’t have you wrecking it.”

* * * *

When Thomas turned and planted a kiss on her head where it leaned against his shoulder, Jane clung stubbornly to sleep. With a nudge of his chin, he brushed back her hood, and she felt the cool night air caress her face. “I can see Balisaig just ahead, lass.”