“Where is that handsome husband of yours, hmm?” The countess looked around the crowded ballroom, busily scanning the many people clustered about. “We would love to have you over for supper, and soon. My husband has taken quite a liking to yours.”
Daphne beamed with pleasure. Her new husband had finally started coming out of his shell. He’d discovered a confidence within him he never knew he had before. And he claimed it was all because of her.
“He’s right there,” Daphne said when she finally spotted him. “He’s speaking with your handsome husband, as a matter of fact.”
“Why, yes he is,” Julia drawled when she spotted the two men standing together, deep in conversation on the opposite side of the room. “What a sight they make. I’m sure every lady in attendance tonight is jealous.”
Daphne laughed. “Julia. That’s not very kind of you.”
“Well, it’s the truth.” Julia shrugged her slim, bared shoulders. “No one believed we would suit as a married couple. I told him myself I was beneath him.”
“Foolish.” Daphne shook her head, thinking of Camden. He’d said the very same to her, though she’d admonished him promptly. “You are the kindest people I know.”
Julia grabbed her hand and tugged her closer so she could whisper in her ear. “I just told him this morning, but I must confess to someone else before I burst…I am with child.”
“Oh, congratulations.” They embraced, the countess dashing a stray tear from her cheek. “That is such wonderful news,” Daphne said, beaming at her friend.
“Garrett is pleased and proud.” Julia watched her husband, her expression dreamy, eyes gone hazy. “He will make a most excellent father.”
“Indeed, I’m sure he will.” Daphne allowed her gaze to drift in Camden’s direction, admiring the striking image he made. Darkly handsome in his evening attire, the stark white of his cravat enhanced the swarthiness of his skin. During their honeymoon at his country estate he’d spent much time outdoors, darkening his skin to a warm golden hue that made him even more handsomely rugged in her eyes.
“Do you plan on having children soon?”
“We haven’t discussed it yet.” She’d love to be blessed with a child. One with dark hair and dark eyes and a sweet, shy smile. She wanted a little boy who looked exactly like his father.
His gaze met hers in that very moment, a slow smile spreading across his face. It was warm, intimate, as if they were the only two people in the room, and her cheeks heated. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, could only watch helplessly as he excused himself from the earl and started toward them. His stride was purposeful as he moved through the crowd, his gaze on her and no one else.
“Oh, he’s coming your way. I’ll leave the two of you alone.” The countess touched her sleeve briefly before she moved into the crowd. Headed toward her husband, no doubt.
“Have I told you that you take my breath away every time I look at you?” Her husband murmured the seductive words when he finally stopped in front of her. He took her hands in his and brought them up to his mouth, raining kisses upon her gloved knuckles.
“Cam.” She glanced about the room, both embarrassed and thrilled at his attention. “People are watching.”
“I could give a hang what they think.” He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “Let’s go home. I want to be alone with you.”
And just like that, he whisked her out of the Bedingfield ballroom, out of the grand, filled-to-the-brim house and into the dark, warm night. He practically pushed her into their carriage, eagerly shutting the door behind him and shutting out the busy world so that they were cocooned together in the small space, his arm slung around her shoulders and drawing her close, she practically toppled into his lap.
“Eager to get me alone?” she teased, her fingers creeping up the front of his waistcoat. She felt the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips, her entire body tightening with need. He was insatiable; the both of them were. It was a wonder she wasn’t with child already, and they’d only been wed a month.
“Always.” He kissed her, languid and sweet, his tongue doing a slow, sure sweep of the interior of her mouth. She answered in kind, her tongue tangling with his and soon she found herself dragged onto his lap, his insistent erection brushing against her skirts.
“Lady Bedingfield told me she’s expecting,” she said moments after they ended their kiss.
His hands wandered along the curve of her waist. “I know. Bedingfield told me.”
“I think it’s wonderful. She confessed to me the last time we saw them she’s had difficulty conceiving.”
“Mmm.” He cupped her breasts with both hands, testing their weight in his palms, his thumbs brushing across the front of her gown.
Her nipples immediately peaked in response and she released a thready little sigh. “You’re not even paying attention to a word I say,” she admonished, emitting a sharp gasp when he tugged the bodice of her gown down so the tops of her breasts became more exposed.
“I am terribly distracted, I must agree.” His fingers teased along the edge of her bodice, skimming the sensitive skin of her breasts and she shivered at his touch. “But I heard what you said. And I imagine you’ll make a most beautiful mother. Your breasts full, your belly ripe with my child.”
His words, the image they conjured up, took her breath away. She touched him, pushed the hair away from his face tenderly, her fingers tangling in the silky strands. “I cannot wait to give you a child.”
“Then let’s go home and work on making one.” His smile was slow, assured, and she leaned in to kiss him. He’d changed so much. Was a
completely different man than the one she was introduced to only a short time ago. He’d come a long way, as had she.