Page 59 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Chapter 6

“Wherein the final piece of the puzzle reveals a lovely picture.”

14th December 1820. London.

Ludo awoke early. It was barely dawn, just a faint smudge of daylight creeping around the curtains. Bunty sighed and snuggled closer to him, and Ludo smiled. Lucky bastard. She was warm and soft and… and rather astonishing. He’d tried to untangle everything it was he felt for her, but it had all been so sudden, and yet a creeping thing that he’d been vaguely aware of for years. He’d always held his breath when he’d caught sight of her in a crowd, on a street, or at the theatre. It had been like glimpsing a dream, something lovely and so impossible you could not hope to hold on to it, aware that it was never to be real, never to be yours. He tightened his grip on her lush curves—which were reassuringly tangible and mouth–watering—as she sighed and stretched. His feelings rose in a mess of untidy bafflement. He did not understand why she had protected him so fiercely when he’d been so obviously, pathetically weak. He did not know why she should smile at him with happiness sparkling in her eyes when he’d done so little to deserve it. God, he’d taken her from an opulent home and installed her in this dingy place, and yet she looked at him like… like she was glad.

The tangle in his chest was woven so tight he suspected he would never unravel it, but in the end it resolved itself into one bright, shining truth, so obvious it was undeniable. Not that he wanted to deny it. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but he did not think she would like that. Besides, he needed to tell her first.

She stirred again, with a flutter of dark eyelashes, and her lovely eyes were warm and soft, hazy with sleep, and then with a hotter emotion as her gaze settled on him. Oh, he liked that look.

“Good morning,” she murmured, giving a contented sigh of pleasure.

Ludo shifted down the bed until they were eye to eye.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

She made a little harrumphing sound and put a hand up to her hair, wincing. “You are an odd creature, to enjoy such a sight.”

“No. I am your husband, and right about all things. I do not care that your hair looks like a bird has nested in it. You are beautiful: quite astoundingly lovely.”

There was a helpless laugh that made his heart kick about behind his ribs, and then she looked up at him.

“You are an odd creature, but I like you very much. I like your compliments, and I love waking up with you.”

“I love you, Bunty.”

Her mouth fell open, and Ludo sat up as she lay there, gazing at him.

“I do. I love you.”

She blinked hard, her eyes glittering, and Ludo panicked as a tear escaped.

Oh. Oh, no. Ought he not have said that? Was it too soon? Should he have waited?

“Oh, Bunty… I….”

He did not know what to say. He could not… would not take it back. The truth of it had settled inside him, weighty and honest, and he did not want to deny it.

Only… only if she did not want it….

Her soft hands reached for him, pulling his head down. She kissed him, murmuring against his lips.

“Love you. I love you, Ludo. You’ve made me so happy.”

Oh, thank Christ for that.

He kissed her back, enthusiastic now, eager to make her happier still. As a husband he might not have been up to much—not yet, anyway, though he had plans, lots of plans—but this… this he could do. This he could do very well, thank you very much.

So he did. Several times.

It took a great deal of persuading to get Ludo out of bed, more to get him out of the house, particularly when he realised where she wanted to go.

“He said it was important, Ludo.”

Ludo huffed, grumbling as he pulled on his greatcoat.

Bunty hoped her instincts were correct, and that this visit to the family’s man of business would not cause him further upset. She had seen the distaste in Mr Middleton’s eyes when his employer had come upon them yesterday. In fact, she believed loathing was closer to what she had seen there. It had been hidden beneath a façade of professionalism and icy civility once he’d bent to help the earl to his feet, from where Ludo had sent him sprawling, but it had unmistakeably been there.