Pendragon (Sherbrooke Brides 7)

“Really in China as well as in England?”

“Oh yes.”

And she realized: Then Jeremy must do this to Charlotte. He opens his mouth when he kisses her. Does she open her mouth as well? No, no, don’t think about that.

“Did you find it distasteful?”

Meggie thought about that a moment, considered it. Her forehead was furrowed, and she chewed on her bottom lip. He wanted to touch his fingertip to her bottom lip, perhaps stroke her bottom lip with his tongue.

“No, it wasn’t distasteful, just very curious. Goodness, I wonder if my father and Mary Rose do that.”

She looked utterly appalled as she said the words, looked as though she’d give anything to take the words back, to take back the fact that she’d even thought of it. Again, he held back a laugh, and said, “I am not so deranged to comment on the marital habits of a vicar and his wife.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t either.” Meggie sighed. “Is that a sliver of weak sun?”

“It is. And look, it is no longer raining.”

She didn’t k

now whether to be pleased or disappointed. This had been a very strange morning.

“I wonder,” she said, “if Max and Leo would judge you to be the kissing winner now.”

“Yes,” he said, “they most certainly would.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t full and delighted, it was reedy and wary because she was thinking about his mouth against hers, about feeling him against her as well, his big hands stroking her, and it was as frightening as it was fascinating.

He looked at her upturned face and thought, Well, I’ve taught you something and it both worries and interests you. It’s a good start.

He said easily, “You see, to ensure that they would select me the winner, I would tell them an excellent story about scaly fire-breathing dragons and the witless knights who had nothing better to do than track them to their caves.”

“I fear Max and Leo are no longer bribed with good stories. Actually, I’m not sure what would sway them now. They are young men and I simply no longer know. The problem is the male brain—it is wholly mysterious and unpredictable. It’s rather like a mass of confusion in your head.” She sighed then. “I really did my best raising them. Max is going to be a vicar, like Papa, so he can’t be too wicked, can he?”

“Oh no. So you’re telling me that you raised your brothers?”

“Oh yes, at least until my father married Mary Rose. I was ten and a good-sized girl, lots bigger and stronger than they were. I could pound them whenever they needed it, which was quite often, being that they were boys, and had no sense at all. Yes, they required a great deal of discipline, and a vigilant eye. Leo was the prankster. I’ll never forget the time he cut a strip out of the back of my gown. I threw him in the bushes for that stunt.”

He laughed. He realized he’d laughed more since he’d met her than in a very long time.

They led their horses out of the barn. Pen whinnied, delighted to have escaped, hide intact. Leaves dripped water, the ground was spongy. He gave her a leg up, saying as she smoothed her skirts over her legs, “I hear from Dr. Dreyfus that Rory will be up to all sorts of mischief by the end of the week.”

“Oh yes. Let me thank you again, my lord.”

“You can thank me by calling me Thomas.”

“If you put it that way. All right. Thomas. It is a good name, a solid name. I will use it. Since you’ve kissed me, using your tongue, I suppose I know you well enough.”

“Yes, I believe you do, at last. Dr. Dreyfus also wants to analyze all the medicines my partner in Italy sent me. He has asked me to have that maringo root sent here to see if it can be grown in England. He is very excited about it.”

Meggie wasn’t really listening. Thomas Malcombe wasn’t a cousin. She’d known him such a short time, and he’d opened his mouth when he’d kissed her that second time.

He wasn’t Jeremy.

She managed to bring herself back to the point. “There was another case of the virulent fever, and Dr. Dreyfus immediately administered your drug. Little Melissa perked up very quickly.”

“Yes, everyone in the village told me about it.”

“Everyone in the village is also singing your praises. The men are toasting you in the taproom. The ladies are so fulsome in their praise that your ears should be burning. You are rapidly working up to local hero.”