Page 114 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

She thought, watching him in that unguarded moment, of how very far they had travelled to arrive here.

“I do hope our baby takes after you in temperament,” Ronan said after a moment.

“And if the baby inherits your stubbornness?”

“Then heaven help us both,” he said gravely, “for I do not believe this house could survive two of me under one roof.”

Augusta laughed, turning upon the stool so she could properly look at him.

“I think Ravenhill has survived one of you rather admirably,” Augusta said, smiling up at him.

“Only because you arrived and began correcting my worst habits,” Ronan replied, leaning one hand against the dressing table.

Augusta reached for the brush lying beside her discarded jewelry, but Ronan took it before her fingers could close around the handle. She looked at him through the mirror with immediate suspicion.

“You cannot possibly intend to brush my hair yourself tonight,” Augusta said, watching him gather the loose strands carefully.

“I have watched you perform this task often enough successfully,” Ronan replied, beginning at the ends with surprising patience.

Augusta allowed him to continue, although the simple intimacy of the gesture affected her more than she expected.

There had once been something almost impossible about imagining Ronan doing anything merely because he wanted to care for her. During the first weeks of their marriage, every kindness had seemed to require some practical explanation from him.

Now he followed her upstairs because he wanted her company, removed her jewelry because he noticed she was tired, and apparently intended to learn the proper management of long hair simply because it belonged to his wife. Augusta wondered whether he realized how much these little things revealed about him.

“I hope the baby receives your patience rather than mine,” Augusta said, watching his reflection while he worked.

“My patience appears considerably greater where you are concerned,” Ronan replied, drawing the brush carefully through another section.

“That is fortunate, considering you married somebody exceptionally trying,” Augusta said, although she could not keep the amusement from her voice.

“You’re the easiest person to love,” he said casually. “I wouldn’t use the word trying.”

Ronan had once called her reckless, interfering, impossible, and several other things that were probably not entirely undeserved.

But somewhere during the months since their marriage, he had stopped treating those qualities as faults he merely tolerated and became almost fond of the very things that once drove him mad.

“What else would you have the baby inherit from me?” Augusta asked, turning slightly toward him again.

Ronan lowered the brush and considered the question seriously.

“I should like the child to have your courage,” Ronan said after a moment, his expression becoming unexpectedly thoughtful.

Augusta raised her brows because that answer surprised her considerably.

“I spent a remarkable amount of time being frightened,” Augusta said, remembering several moments she would rather never experience again.

“You were frightened and continued forward anyway, which matters more,” Ronan replied, setting the brush carefully upon the dressing table.

Augusta looked down at her hands because his sincerity always affected her more strongly than his teasing. Ronan had become better at saying what he felt these past months, although he still chose his words carefully.

Perhaps that was precisely why Augusta believed every one.

“And what exactly should the baby inherit from you?” Augusta asked, looking back toward him with renewed amusement.

“My excellent judgment would certainly prove useful someday,” Ronan said, adopting an expression of complete seriousness.

“You proposed marriage to the woman who accused you of murder,” Augusta said, staring at him with considerable disbelief.