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“And what of Lady Winchilsea?”
Harriett chuckled. “Cat is in the same condition as I—again. Little William will have yet another cousin in about six months.”
“Are we competing now?”
“Not likely,” she said with a snort, rubbing the small of her back, which had begun to ache mildly. “Already she’s complaining about her figure. She hardly even showed the last time! Meanwhile, I look like an enormous elephant. It’s not fair.”
“I think you the most beautiful creature in the world.” Leaning over, he planted a kiss on her pouting lips.
“You would,” she teased, momentarily mollified. “You’re scandalizing the servants again,” she added in a whisper, glancing pointedly at the new footman, who’d stumbled and almost dropped the hamper he was carrying.
“They ought to be used to it by now.” He kissed her again.
“And here I thought you a changed man. Once a rake, always a rake, I suppose.”
“I beg to differ, dear wife,” he replied, frowning. His scowl was belied by the twinkle in his whiskey eyes. “All that time you were so concerned about being ruined, when all along it was I who should have been worried. You’ve quite ruined me. I’ve become far worse than my brother ever was.”
She smiled up at him, not bothered in the least by the mention of William. “You mean better. William was a good man, but he could never have made me happy the way you have.” And just to show him she meant it, she leaned up and favored him with a passion-filled kiss.
A crash sounded behind them, followed by the noise of shattering glass and crockery.
Harriett grinned against her husband’s lips and whispered, “I think that when we do finally make it back to London, we’ll be as much of a scandal as ever.”
“Promise?” he said, kissing her again.
“Promise.”
