Naughty of her. Would she earn a spanking for it? Probably not, because his fingers were twisting in her hair now, holding her fast for a kiss even as he sighed in surrender. When he reached his crisis, he shuddered so hard the bed shook. She smiled at his agonized groan, for it was not true agony, but satisfied lust. It was the first time she’d smiled in a while and it felt nearly as good as her release.
It had been the right thing to do, coming to his bed to forgive him. She need not suffer sadness alone anymore. And what an earth-shattering realization, that she was loved by the mythic Lord Townsend. She remembered how she’d admired him from across parlors and ballrooms before he even knew who she was, and now…
“Oh, my love,” he said, gazing down at her and stroking her cheek. “My dearest love.”
She bit her lip in shyness and joy and he kissed her right on the lip she’d bitten, and told her to rest easy in his arms that night because everything would be all right.
Chapter Eighteen
Naturalists
Townsend arranged a small memorial service for Bouncer a few days later, when Mr. Cuddles was nearly through with his digesting and Jane and the kitchen staff had recovered from their emotional upset.
He gathered the guests in the backyard gardens near Bouncer’s pen, where a memorial cross had been erected. For a rabbit’s funeral, it was a well-attended affair. The entire house staff was there, for Bouncer had been a favored pet to all of them, a sweet creature to spoil and pet. His friends also showed up to offer their support to Jane: August, Marlow, Wescott and Ophelia. June and Lord Braxton came, as well as his parents and Rosalind, all of them dressed in muted colors of mourning.
Even Felicity and Carlo attended, holding no hard feelings about Jane’s disruption at their ball, so Bouncer had royalty at his funeral, an honor few rabbits could boast. Their children greeted his wife with sad, sympathetic faces, as she’d made great headway becoming their favorite auntie.
Jane worried she might cry if she spoke, so he offered to address the gathered mourners in her place. He held the notes she’d given him, so charming and raw with love for the late furball. He was a good rabbit. He was kind and never bit a person even if he was startled. He never let his lame foot keep him from getting around, although it was usually in a circle. Townsend couldn’t help but smile at her neat, bold lettering. How strong she’d been these last few days, accepting Bouncer’s loss as a consequence of science.
How humbling, that she’d trust him to speak this eulogy. He used to think her pets such a nuisance. He’d come a long way from the inflexible man he’d been when he offered for her hand.
“Dear friends,” he began, looking out at their sober faces. “We are gathered today to remember Bouncer, who was a very good rabbit. He was the sort of rabbit who never bit even if he was startled. He was a great pleasure to the kitchen staff, who spoiled him relentlessly.” He paused at the cook’s shuddery sigh, and a faint sob from a maid. He looked to Jane, but she was keeping her composure and nodded for him to continue.
“Bouncer was exceptionally brave with a persevering constitution,” he said, looking down at the small, white cross, “for he never let his crooked back foot prevent him from exploring his small enclosure. He loved to chew the grass and rest in the sun on warm days; Jane brought him outside to enjoy the weather whenever she was able. In fact, if not for my kind wife, he wouldn’t have had nearly as many warm naps as he accomplished in his short life. He was rescued, tended to, and treasured because someone cared.” He paused again, turning to meet Jane’s gaze. “And if rabbits have the capacity to do so, I’m sure he counted himself lucky. I speak for all of us here when I say he will be sorely missed.”
An awkward silence followed. What did one do at a rabbit’s funeral? August saved the day, murmuring “Hear, hear, Bouncer.” A few others took up the cheer to honor the beloved pet’s life. After that, guests filed forward to lay sprays of flowers near Bouncer’s memorial, except for the cook, who instead produced a handsome bunch of carrots to nestle by the cross. That was the moment Townsend nearly lost his composure, but he managed to stay strong for Jane’s sake.
The kitchen staff had arranged an appetizing spread of salads, fruits, biscuits, and punch for the guests to enjoy now that the sad part of the service was over. As Bouncer’s mourners milled about, he noticed a slight, auburn-haired, mustachioed gentleman speaking with his parents. The man was an old friend from his university days, now a Cambridge professor active in the National Zoological Society. Townsend had invited him today so he might introduce the man to Jane…and her snake.