The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

‘Good idea.’ Frances rolled towards him, curling up in the familiar warm crook of his arm and resting her cheek against his shoulder. ‘Although if you try to take my cake away, you’ll be sleeping alone from now on.’

‘After five years and two children, I think I know better than that.’ Arthur slid an arm down her side. ‘Remind me why I’m the one who always puts her back to bed?’

‘Because after I gave birth, you were so relieved that you said you’d never ask anything of me ever again.’

‘So I did. Well, I stand by it.’

‘Besides, I thought farmers liked early mornings.’

‘I’m an ex-farmer and animals aren’t quite as demanding as little girls.’

‘But you’re so good at dealing with them.’ She draped an arm across his stomach, wriggling closer. ‘I promise I’ll see to Daphne when she wakes up. Then we’ll have no peace until tonight.’

‘True.’ He yawned again. ‘It seemed a good idea at the time, making the garden party an annual event.’

‘It was a good idea. Of course, that was back before we had children and were able to sleep.’

‘Back in the days when we used to scandalise Mrs Gargrave by staying in bed until mid-afternoon?’ There was a definite smile in his voice. ‘That’s what I’d really like to do today, just stay here and forget the party. Do you think anyone would notice if we don’t make an appearance?’

‘Possibly, what with it being our party. We?

?re supposed to greet everyone.’

‘We could let Iris do it.’

‘Good idea, but I’m afraid four still seems a little young for such a big responsibility.’

‘Daphne could help.’

‘She’s two.’

‘Mmm.’ He made a disgruntled sound. ‘Maybe next year, then?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Do you remember the last party?’ She brushed a hand lightly over the sprinkling of hair on his chest. ‘When you insisted on taking me for a walk in the orchard just for old time’s sake?’

‘I do.’ His voice sounded faintly husky all of a sudden. ‘I remember what happened there, too.’

‘Well, it was memorable.’ She hooked a leg over his thighs, gratified to hear his breathing hitch slightly. ‘Although it can’t happen again. I’m sure people were looking at us strangely afterwards.’

‘That tends to happen when you have twigs in your hair.’

‘I did not!’

‘No, you were only a little dishevelled. I’m sure no more than a dozen people noticed.’

‘Then it definitely can’t happen again.’

‘Spoilsport.’ He grabbed hold of her waist, half-pulling, half-rolling her on top of him. ‘Maybe we ought to wear ourselves out this morning, then? For some reason, I don’t feel remotely sleepy any more.’

‘Is that so?’ She propped her chin on his chest, looking deep into his eyes as his hands slid over her back and bottom, tugging at the hem of her nightgown. ‘That’s funny because I’m exhausted. Especially if you’re going to call me names...’

‘How about my love?’

‘Much better.’

She pulled her nightgown over her head, revelling in the flare of desire that lit his eyes as she stretched her body out over his. It was pleasing to know that after two children he still desired her. Despite the ups and downs of marriage and parenthood, their love-making had only become more passionate over the years. Arthur was a caring and thoughtful and thorough lover, just as he’d promised, and they knew each other’s bodies well enough now to know what they both liked. It was a more emotional, intense form of love-making, less energetic perhaps than in the early days of their marriage, but even more satisfying. She certainly didn’t feel like going back to sleep again either.