Page 55
Number Fourteen Berkeley Square, London
Late evening, May 1817
Vanessa bent her neck as Kingston unclasped the sapphire and diamond pendant, his Christmas gift to her, along with matching earrings. “I suspected Madeline and Rebecca would be a success, but I didn’t expect they’d take London by storm.” She chuckled as she removed the sparkling earrings. “Only out a fortnight, and they’ve each received multiple proposals.”
“You don’t suppose having a substantial dowry and a newly titled duke as a brother has anything to do with that, do you?” Kingston replied dryly, leaning over to place a kiss on her nape.
As always, her body hummed in response. She’d never tire of his touch and still thrilled that this man was her husband.
My dearest duke.
She turned and faced him, giving him a mock scold.
“For shame, Kingston. They are beautiful, witty, and intelligent young women. Yes, no doubt the dowries and your title have lured a fortune hunter or two—”
“Some claim I was a fortune hunter, and look how well that turned out.” He waggled his eyebrows in that deliciously wicked way he had, and she couldn’t suppress a giggle.
“Pshaw. You were no such thing.” She arched an eyebrow. “I’ll remind you that there were nasty gossips who said I was an upstart who bought a title with my fortune. Never mind that your uncle died within three months of our wedding, and you repaid every cent, plus interest.”
That had been their first real heated argument. Vanessa had been highly affronted and refused to accept the money. At last, they’d agreed to put the funds in a trust for their children.
Kingston pulled her into his embrace, smashing her bosom against his chest and causing the sapphire and diamond pendant she’d pinned there to press into the tender flesh.
“Ouch.”
“Forgive me, love.” At once, Kingston released her. Sliding his long fingers into her decolletage, he grinned roguishly as he unpinned the gem. “You never did tell me why this bauble was so important to you that you risked all to venture into Fortuna.”
Holding it up, he angled it back and forth, the stones catching the light and sparking like blue and white fire.
Head slanted, Vanessa cupped his neck.
“Haven’t I told you the legend of the sapphire brooch?” She puzzled her forehead. “Are you certain? I thought sure I had.”
“No, you haven’t.” He set the jewel beside the others on her carved rosewood dressing table before nuzzling her neck and then kissing a smoldering path to her bosom. “Tell me now,” he insisted throatily in a gravelly timbre that revealed how much he wanted to take her to bed.
Not yet, my fine rogue.
“Stop, knave.” Grasping his blond mane, she gave a playful tug. “You know I cannot cobble a single thought together when you kiss me like that.”
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, Kingston lifted his head. “Fine, but be swift about it. I have a ravenous hunger that needs satisfying.”
He gave her bottom a firm pat.
“Hmph. Patience is a virtue, husband.”
“The legend, if you please, madam,” he purred, beginning to unbutton the impossibly small pearl buttons down the back of her rose-colored gown.
She tossed a saucy glance over her shoulder. “You’re living up to your title.”
“In what way?” His eyebrows knitted together, a thread of disquiet there.
“Caerleon. Lion. With your blond hair and your tendency to growl or purr.”
“Minx,” he chuckled, tickling her ribs.
“Stop, Kingston,” she giggled. “Or I’ll not tell you the legend.”
He relented and returned to unbuttoning her gown. “Who is the sot who thought it wise to fasten a gown with so many deuced buttons?”
