His Christmas Countess

‘Come to bed,’ she said into the crumpled folds of his neckcloth. ‘Show me.’

‘I’m filthy,’ he protested half-heartedly, his fingers already on the buttons of his waistcoat.

‘Most of it is your clothes.’ Her fingers were as urgent, pushing the coat back from his shoulders, tearing a ribbon on her old robe as she threw it aside. ‘I don’t care. I just want you. Now, always.’

There was no finesse left in either of them. They fell on to the bed in a tangle of limbs, of kisses, of desperate fingers, all impeded by Grant’s breeches, which he kicked off with a final heave before he rolled Kate over, covered her with his body and slid into her in one movement.

Then he stilled, propped on his elbows, his hips cradled by her thighs, his forehead resting against her brow. ‘Home. Home at last.’

His heart thudded over hers, his breathing was ragged, his fingers, always so sure, so controlled, shook as they sifted through her hair. The lack of control touched her as no skilled caresses could ever have done and she tipped her head to capture his lips, curled her legs around the slim hips and rocked him deeper.

It became a blur, a mixture of passion and love, of relief and joy and urgent need. Kate knew she was talking, broken phrases, words, his name. ‘I love you. I love you. Grant...’

He stretched up above her on his hands, tightening the junction between their bodies so she could no longer tell where his pleasure ended and hers began. She looked up and saw he was watching her, even as he lost control and let the wave crash over him. ‘I love you. Kate. Now. Always. Kate.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

They went to church in the morning with Charlie and sat and thought about the old earl and then came home and spent the day talking about him. Grant told them tales about his own childhood and had Charlie alternately gasping and giggling about the tricks he used to play and the trouble he would get into.

‘Truly? You let all the hounds into the house while Great-Grandmama was having the Ladies’ Church Social and they ate all the cakes and peed on the Chinese rug? And you climbed all the way to the top of the great oak on the front lawn?’

Kate rolled her eyes at Grant, who grinned and shrugged. ‘And fell out and broke my arm and spent a month learning to write left-handed so I could do all the lines my tutor set me as punishment.’

‘Tell me again about Great-Grandpapa and the bishop and the bull at the church fête.’

Kate curled up in her armchair and indulged herself by watching Grant, relaxed and happy, sprawled on the hearthrug with his son. The day that could have been so sad, the anniversary of a loss where they could not be together, was turning into a happy time and, she suspected, the beginning of a family tradition. She and Charlie had planned it together, both of them, she was certain, convinced that this time Grant would be home in time.

* * *

After luncheon Charlie announced that he was going to write down the stories in case he forgot any. ‘And I’ll add my stories, too,’ he added, marching off to the desk by the window.

Grant put his arm around Kate and pulled her down beside him on the sofa at the other end of the room. ‘I must tell you where I have been these past days.’

‘I confess I am consumed with curiosity about Newport Pagnell.’ She curled into the crook of his arm and played with the curling ends of hair around his ears. It was bliss to be able to touch Grant without wariness, without being afraid that her gestures would be read, quite correctly, as signs of love.

‘I took your sister-in-law there. When I left you I went back to Belchamps Hall, riding a positive tidal wave of anger with your brother. She overheard our discussion and delivered a bombshell to dear Henry by announcing that if he was paying off his debt to Baybrook, he could pay her an allowance and she was going to live with her sister.’

‘So Henry is going to repay the money? I would have thought that was like wringing blood out of a stone.’

‘Apparently I look forbidding enough for him to believe my threats about the navy or India. One of the brightest clerks in my banker’s office is going down there to do a complete audit and Henry’s about to acquire a new bailiff in the form of Grimswade’s nephew, who is as tough as his uncle and has been cutting his teeth as my farm manager.’

‘You are brilliant, Grant.’ She kissed his ear.

He broke off in an attempt to capture her lips. ‘Temptress.’