A Proper Lord's Wife (Properly Spanked Legacy 2)

“If you see a grasshopper on your explorations, dear wife,” he told her, “please pass along my mother and father’s regards.”

“I will.” She giggled, returning Mr. Cuddles to his cage.

Next the Lockridges lavished affection upon little Bouncer, who preened beneath their attention. She was glad they were the sort of in-laws who appreciated animals. That explained why her husband was relatively tolerant of her kitchen menagerie and her forays into nature.

In fact, by the time they retired to the parlor after dinner, Jane felt so comfortable with them they might have been her own parents. How she envied their relaxed harmony with one another, their obvious loving bond. That would be her life’s work, to form such a bond with Edward. She would put her love and trust into her husband, and have faith that over the years, he would come to treasure her as the Duke of Lockridge so clearly treasured his wife.

“Edward,” his mother said, when they were seated by the fire and the men settled with their port. “Your sister and her husband will be coming to visit soon. I’m going to have a grand ball in London to celebrate their tenth anniversary, and you and Jane must attend.”

“Of course we’ll attend. Felicity and Carlo have been married ten years already?” he asked in wonder.

“It seems impossible, doesn’t it? But your sister wed at nineteen”—he shot his son a teasing look—“rather than waiting to drag her feet to the altar in her late twenties.”

“Hunter!” the duchess protested. “Townsend didn’t drag his feet. You’ll insult dear Jane to suggest it.”

“No, I was an eager bridegroom,” said Edward, taking Jane’s hand upon the sofa and winking at her. “How dare my father accuse me of dragging my feet?”

“Especially when he was near thirty himself before he deigned to honor our longstanding engagement,” said the duchess.

“If I’m to be bullied, I’ll take my port up to my room.” The duke put on a scowl, then brightened. “It will be your first chance to meet Felicity and Carlo, and the children,” he said to Jane. “They were sad they couldn’t come in time for your wedding.”

“You’ll love the children,” said Edward. “They’ll call you zia and speak so quickly in Italian that you won’t catch a word.”

“I’ll begin studying at once.” Jane had always wanted to learn Italian.

“They’re charming, sweet loves, like all my grandchildren,” said the duchess. “Your future little ones won’t lack for cousins.”

Jane felt a blush rise in her cheeks at the thought of their “little ones.”

“Don’t worry, Jane,” said Edward. “That is not pressure. Between Felicity, Will, and Belinda, my mother has plenty of grandchildren to tide her over for a while.”

“And Rosalind wishes to marry soon,” said his father with a touch of wistfulness. “My youngest babe.”

“She wishes to marry our dear Lord Marlow.” The duchess politely suppressed a sigh, while Edward laughed aloud.

“Besides the fact he thinks of her as a sister, I doubt they’d make a match. They’re so different in temperament.”

“We’ve all said so, as much as we esteem him. Young hearts like your sister’s can be impetuous.”

Jane listened to this family talk, absorbing everything. She had not seen Edward’s sister Rosalind as the impetuous sort, but she didn’t know her very well yet. And Marlow…all she knew of him, besides his striking blond hair, was that his smiles suggested a mischievous heart.

In time, talk returned to the ball and the duchess’s grand plans to honor her oldest daughter’s anniversary. The duke was an animated contributor to the planning, requesting peacock and lobster on the menu, and a full orchestra to play for the night.

“Oh, will there be dancing?” asked Jane. “I can’t wait to dance at my first ball with my husband.”

“I’ve told her it is not the thing for husbands and wives to fill each other’s dance cards,” said Edward, spreading his hands. “None of them dance with each other.”

“Oh, a husband and wife may dance together if they wish,” said his mother. “Especially at my ball. Your father and I will dance.”

“Will there be waltzing?” asked Jane shyly.

“Do you want there to be waltzing?” The duke stood and bowed to her, offering his hand. “I love a good waltz.”

“Here?” said Edward. “This is a parlor, not a ballroom.”

“One can waltz anywhere.”

“I’ve never learned how,” Jane admitted. “My dance master wouldn’t teach it, and at balls… I was never asked.”

She blushed a second time, thinking how pathetic she must sound, but the duke’s fond regard didn’t waver.

“My dear, if you’ve not learned the waltz yet, it’s high time you did. A little music, Edward?”

“Shall I hum or whistle, Your Grace?”

The duke waved him off. “Never mind, I’ll do it.” He led Jane to an open spot of floor and showed her the proper stance, with her head up and shoulders level, though she could barely stop laughing at his imitation of a young lady preparing to dance. Edward and the duchess looked on in amusement while the duke paused to move a small end table out of the way.