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“Must say, she’s a fair one,” Dick put in. “A sight better than the wenches what walk the docks.”
Fanny whacked her husband with the rolling pin. “What would ye know about the wenches what walk the docks?”
“Let me alone, woman. ’Tis no concern of yours. The master wouldn’t truck with that sort. Got the quality goods, he has.”
“Enough.” Sebastian grabbed the caretaker by the shirt and lifted him onto his toes. “Insult my wife one more time, and I will shove that broomstick up your arse.”
“Y-yer…” His eyes flicked to Mary. “Yer wife?”
“Yes. My wife. Lady Byrne. As of today.”
“Beggin’ apologies, milord. Milady. We didn’t receive any word that ye’d married. Nor a notice that ye planned to be in residence.”
“I can see by the state of this cottage that you didn’t. Not that it’s any excuse. Imagine my displeasure when I bring my bride for a seaside honeymoon, only to find the place in complete disarray. You ought to keep the house in readiness at all times. Instead, we arrived to find this place filthy and in disrepair.”
“We’ve been feelin’ poorly.”
“Oh, I’ll teach you what it is to feel poorly.”
Mary decided to intervene. She laid a hand to his arm, gently. “Sebastian.”
It was enough.
His demeanor softened. He gestured toward the door. “Begone, the both of you.”
“Aye, aye. We’ll jes’ be in the kitchen, then.”
“You’ll be in the barn,” he said. “We’ll discuss the state of your employment—or lack of it—tomorrow.”
After the couple had left, Mary and Sebastian returned to the bed. He turned her so that her back rested against his chest, spooning his body around hers. Keeping her warm and safe.
Her eyelids grew heavy. Heavens, what a day. It seemed impossible to bend her mind around it all. A jilting, an elopement, a decrepit honeymoon cottage.
And one fiery, passionate kiss. If a single kiss could create such a whirlwind of sensation, she could only imagine how their lovemaking would be. It boded well for the honeymoon, she thought. If only they hadn’t been interrupted.
Mary pressed her lips together, trying not to giggle. In the end, she couldn’t help it. She dissolved into laughter.
“What?”
“The rolling pin. The ciphering. Everything.”
“It’s not amusing.”
“To the contrary. It’s highly amusing. I’ve never been called a demon’s consort before. You’ll be laughing about it tomorrow.”
“Doubtful.”
“Very well. Perhaps you’ll be laughing about it next year.”Or maybe the decade after that.
“Go to sleep,” he grumbled.
Just this once, she decided to obey his command.
Chapter 5
Mary was first to wake. The fire in the kitchen had gone cold, so she wriggled backward, curling into the heat of his body. He growled a little in his sleep. The hard, hot ridge of his erection jutted against her thigh. Apparently, one part of him was awake. A large part.
Her own intimate places softened. She felt a keen, hollow ache of curiosity.
