Page 95 of Maid for the Marquess

“Ah, but there you are wrong, my love. I miss you every second you are not next to me.”

I rested my hand on the swell of her stomach. “Are you well?”

She covered my hand with hers. “Very. Your child has been moving quite a bit all morning. I believe they are anxious to join us.”

I laughed, bending and pressing a kiss to the linen covering her stomach. “Give your mama a moment to breathe, my child. We are anxious to meet you as well.”

“Did you accomplish your errands?” she asked.

“Indeed.”

She peered behind me. “Did Mr. Hughes have any of those chocolate conserves your unborn babe has been demanding?”

I chuckled. “Yes. I procured some for you and some barley sugar and lemon drops for the children.”

“Oh, they will love such a treat!”

“I thought perhaps a picnic tomorrow. It promises to be a fine day. Edward and Lydia could join us.”

Maddie smiled. “How lovely.”

I leaned close, my lips to her ear. “We cannot partake of the joys we used to seek on our picnics, Maddie. Our clothing must remain on, and you must be on your best behavior.”

She scoffed, swatting my shoulder. “I believe you have that wrong, sir. Your old age is showing. You are, and always have been, the impertinent one.”

I chuckled and kissed her neck at the juncture, smiling as she shivered.

“Old age, madam? I shall have to endeavor to change your mind of that notion later.” I caressed her large belly. “I do not believe old age has yet rendered me un-impertinent.” I bit down lightly. “Or unable to bring to you an earth-shattering cli⁠—”

She covered my mouth. “Alexander,” she admonished. “We are not in private!”

I kissed her fingers, grinning at the way her eyes had darkened. She was still responsive and always passionate, and I love to tease her and claim her at the most unexpected moments.

“We could be,” I murmured.

She shook her head and gathered her skirts. “Children, I believe Cook has a treat waiting. Come with me.”

I pulled the small sacks from Knight and handed him off to a waiting stable hand. I had a feeling the children weren’t the only ones about to have a treat.

I followed where my wife led.

I always would.

The sun shone high in the early afternoon sky, the breeze light and warm on my face as I chased my son, laughing with him as I caught him and tossed him high, catching him and swinging him around. I loved spending time with my family this way. Relaxed and easy. A picnic—a family favorite—good friends, delicious treats, and lots of laughter.

I tossed my son up onto my shoulder and headed toward the picnic. “I think our repast is ready, Andrew.”

He yelped in excitement. He loved picnics, and Maddie was of the mind it was due to the fact that we all ate with our fingers. Our cook had begun making sandwiches with the most delectable fillings, and I knew the basket was full of them. Chicken, beef, cheese, with savory sauces and the softest of breads. Some creamed mixtures we all loved but only had for picnics would be in the mix. Maddie adored them, and I had heard the fare was becoming more popular even in London.

We reached the blanket, and I sank to my knees, letting Andrew off my shoulder gently. Edward grinned at us.

“Maybe some ball games after lunch, Master Andrew?”

He nodded, his mouth already too full to speak. Maddie chastised him gently but without rancor. It was too fine a day for anger. She handed Charlotte a sandwich with cucumber and soft cheese. Our daughter stared at it with that stubborn look on her face, then turned it in her hand as if inspecting it. She tasted it, chewed, then pointed to the platter.

“Mo’.”

Maddie laughed and handed her another one. Unlike her brother, who had one in each hand and was devouring them simultaneously, Charlotte placed the second one on her plate and daintily bit into the first one.