The Sherbrooke Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 1)

“I believe I shall go sharpen a knife.”

Douglas was grinning when he looked up to see his cousin approaching from the other end of the corridor. “Ah, if it isn’t Tony, you traitorous sod. I would that you stay out of my sight. Where’s your wife?”

Tony gave them a sleepy, quite sated smile. “Still asleep, doubtless dreaming of me.”

Douglas’s grin dissolved into a growl and Alexandra, so furious with him that she couldn’t help herself, struck him hard in his belly with her fist.

He sucked in his breath, but smiled over the pain. “It’s Tony you’re supposed to attack, not me, not your husband, who made you scream with pleasure last night.”

“Ah,” Tony said, eyeing Alexandra’s furiously embarrassed face. “About time, Douglas.”

Alexandra couldn’t cope with this outrageous man at her side. Had he no modesty, no discretion?

“I suppose it is also my fault that you speak so disgracefully, my lord? Just be quiet, and you too, Tony.”

“A wife isn’t a bad thing,” Tony said, falling into step beside Alexandra. “Always there, beside you, ready to be kissed and stroked and fondled.”

“A wife isn’t a pet.”

“Oh no, she’s much more than a pet. What do you say, Douglas?”

It seemed to Alexandra that Douglas was concentrating on the stairs, not listening to Tony. He was probably thinking of Melissande, the clod. He was frowning and said abruptly, “Are Uncle Albert and Aunt Mildred still here?”

Tony yawned and scratched his elbow. “I suppose so. It’s your house. You’re the bloody host. You should know who is residing under your roof.”

“You’re here and God knows I don’t want you to be.”

As a complaint, it lacked heat, and Tony was pleased. He said easily, “Now, now, cousin, I would have thought all would be forgiven this morning. After all, at last you took Alexandra the way a man takes his bride and from the looks of her and the looks of you, I’d say—”

“Don’t say it, Tony!”

“Sorry, Alex, you’re right. Now, Douglas, I fancy that I will take Melissande to Strawberry Hill on Friday. Does that please you?”

“That’s three more days of your damned company!”

“And my sister’s,” Alexandra said. “You should be pleased with half the bargain. You can sit about and brood and sigh and look melancholy.”

“I would be pleased if you would contrive to hold your tongue, madam.”

“I’ve never seen Douglas brood over any woman, Alex. Surely he would have more pride.”

“Hello! Good morning, Alexandra! Goodness, you look pale. Didn’t you sleep well? Is Douglas picking at you again? Good morning, gentlemen.”

Alexandra looked at her enthusiastic young sister-in-law, who looked healthy and vigorous and repellently fit, and sighed.

“Hello, Sinjun.”

“Good morning, brat,” Tony said.

Douglas grunted at his sister.

“Is your mother in the breakfast room?” Alexandra asked.

“Oh no, it’s far too early for Mother. She won’t rise until nearly noon. Come along, Alexandra, there’s no reason for you to dally. Only Aunt Mildred is there. She eats a lot, you know, so she won’t say much. Odd, isn’t it, and she’s so thin.”

Alexandra sighed again.

“Mother has the disposition of a lemon in the morning. Aunt Mildred is more like a prune.” Sinjun frowned, then remarked to her brother, “It is difficult to imagine a prune eating a lot.”