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Moreen only smiled. ‘I do, but it’s a surprise.’

A quarter of an hour later, Charlotte spied her dark-haired boy sitting on his father’s shoulders outside the window. Gently, the pair of them set a small snowman on the windowsill. The head was lopsided, and two twigs stuck out of the body. There were two eyes, but no mouth was visible.

In spite of herself, she laughed. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ Apparently, the duke was enjoying himself.

Her maid sighed. ‘I think there is a strong chance there are more of them in the house.’

Charlotte kept the bough of mistletoe in her hands as she left the drawing room to investigate. As she’d suspected, there were a few telltale puddles in the hall that Braxton was wiping up. On the bottom stair was a snowman the height of her knee. His stick arms seemed to wave, and his smile was made of pebbles. One of the eyes had fallen off.

‘Mama!’ a young voice crowed.

Charlotte saw Thomas running towards her, and she scooped him into her arms before he could slip on the wet floor. ‘Now, what have you and your father been doing?’ she teased. ‘Making a mess?’

‘No!’ he chortled, pointing to the snowman. ‘No, no, no!’

Thomas was a few months past his first birthday, but although he had only just begun to talk, his word for ‘snow’ was clear enough.

She raised the bough of mistletoe in one hand, above his head. ‘Mistletoe,’ she said.

‘Toe,’ he repeated.

‘And we kiss underneath it,’ she said, kissing his soft cheek.

He giggled and pressed a damp mouth to her own cheek, which was one of the sweetest kisses she’d ever received.

Then Alaric picked him up from her arms and lowered Thomas to the floor. ‘Your snowman needs a nose.’ He passed the boy a stump of a carrot, and Thomas mumbled nonsense to himself while he poked the carrot in the centre of the snowman instead of on the face.

‘What have you here, Duchess?’ Alaric asked, taking the mistletoe from her. With his handkerchief, he wiped off the evidence of their son’s drooling affection.

‘It’s for kissing,’ she informed him.

‘Is it?’ His voice grew deep, and he leaned in, trailing his mouth against her throat. ‘I may need to keep this with me. For I intend to kiss you often, my sweet wife.’

She met his lips with her own, savouring his mouth in a deep kiss that held a promise for later. ‘And we both know where that will lead.’

He laughed, embracing her lightly. ‘Not that I don’t adore our son…but I will always worry about childbirth.’

‘I know.’ She ventured a smile at him. ‘But it wasn’t so terrible. And I want many more children.’ Her green eyes held the promise of passionate nights spent in his arms.

‘I would welcome them all,’ he said. ‘But in the meantime, I have another surprise for you.’

‘Do you?’ she asked, sliding her arms around his waist. ‘And what is this surprise?’

She expected him to tease her about the surprise being in their bedchamber. But instead, he withdrew a letter from his pocket. ‘Thornton is getting married.’

A delighted smile broke over her face. ‘He is?’

He lifted her hand to his mouth. ‘I think you and I should draw up some rules for him. To ensure that his marriage is a happy one.’

She laughed and embraced him hard. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’