Page 103 of A Symphony for the Earl

He sighed in pleasure, his eyes closing as he leaned back against the plush headrest. “I can’t place the composer, but what a stunning piece, my love. I don’t believe you’ve performed it yet.”

“That’s because I wrote it for you, cushla macree,” she murmured shyly. “It is only a nocturne. I would have liked to write you a symphony—”

He came from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Pulling aside her thick hair, Richard kissed the nape of her neck. “It is perfect. You have brought music and love and so much light into my life. Darling, every day we spend together is a symphony.”

She sighed. “I suppose we must emerge from your rooms sooner or later.”

“Must we?” His eyes crinkled. “After all, I am an earl, and you a countess…”

She pinched his arm playfully. “Even nobility can’t ignore their family forever.”

“But I would so like to.” He grinned. “Perhaps we could send them to County Kildare, and you and I—”

She jumped up from the piano seat, nearly toppling over her husband, who dissolved into laughter. “Ireland! I almost forgot our honeymoon in Kilkenny.”

“I am gratified that my lovemaking distracted you long enough to forget such a thing,” he said, still chuckling.

“As spectacular as that is, Acushla, I’m so hoping it will not end if we exit your chambers.”

“Not at all,” he replied promptly. “Shall we make plans to leave as soon as possible? My secretary has arranged everything.”

“Oh, yes. What an adventure our life will be, Richard. Do you mind? I mean, were you counting on peace and quiet?”

“Good God, no.”

“Well, that is fortunate,” she sighed. “After all, my love, I thought perhaps since you are somewhat older than I—”

“Come here, you Irish minx,” he growled, “and I’ll prove to you how old I am.”

Epilogue

Valentina slipped on her diamond eardrops—a wedding present from her husband—and called to him over her shoulder.

“Denys, have you found my necklace? The concert starts at eight and it will be a crush, I’m sure.”

He walked around her, and once again, she admired his athletic good looks. They were enhanced by a well-fitted sage jacket and a subtle marigold-patterned waistcoat. His cravat was in the latest fashion, something he called the “Mathematical,” which no doubt Richard had shared. He carried a sapphire-and-diamond necklet, her recent birthday gift.

She lifted the fall of blonde curls across her shoulder so he could fasten it about her neck. “I am so glad they planned the performance this early in the Season. Fiona is already starting to show, and I can’t imagine playing a concert grand is very comfortable when you are out to here,” she gestured to her own flat stomach.

He nuzzled her neck. “Shall we tell them why we are late?”

She giggled. “Of course not, silly. How shocking. Though I don’t understand why you chose tonight of all nights to give my maid the evening off.”

His lips traveled down across her collarbone. “Don’t you think I am a good substitute, Mrs. Spencer? After all, who knows your tastes better than I?” he whispered, nuzzling her ear. A tingle traveled from her breast to the apex of her thighs, even though the afternoon had revolved around the most delightful lovemaking imaginable.

“Do I need to fetch your gloves?”

“No, darling, I have them in my reticule. But my shawl is on the chair. Oh, don’t forget the invitation. I think I’ll have one framed for Fiona and Richard. Such a momentous occasion, isn’t it? Denys, my love, will you desist? We must leave!”

He took his hands from her waist with obvious reluctance. “Of course, Richard would have the first child, damn him. It isn’t as though we have wasted any time…”

“It isn’t a race, and they did start the process well before we did, darling. Denys—you didn’t—did you and Richard make a wager?”

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Only a small one. We were at White’s one night, and slightly in our cups, I’m afraid—”

“Well, I’m surprised you didn’t bet on who might have the first boy—Denys! How could you? You are both incorrigible.”

“Did you say you needed your shawl, my love? Here you go…the time grows late…” Valentina let him usher her out the door, then ran back in and snatched up the sheet of paper on her dressing table.