Page 92 of Dukes Do It Better
Finally, when their breaths had evened and the fine sheen of sweat cooled to a chill on their skin, Mal turned his head to stare at her. Pale hazel appeared more green than brown in the soft light and settled on her face with an adoring expression. “I’m marrying you today.”
She grinned. “Damn right you are.”
They were still smiling when they entered the kitchen a quarter hour later. Alton reached his hands toward them, and without a word, Mal picked up his sturdy little body as if he weighed nothing, and the two commenced a detailed discussion about her son’s dreams the night before.
Try as she might, Emma lost track after Alton said something about a goose and a mermaid. Instead, she sat at the table and smiled her thanks when Mrs. Shephard placed a cup of coffee in front of her.
“Polly is gathering eggs, then I’ll whip together a nice omelet,” Mrs. Shephard said.
Joy filled the moment until her heart felt like it might burst. Their guests were still abed, and the house was quiet beyond her family in the warm kitchen.
A fruit-filled wedding cake sat on the counter cooling, with a bouquet of fresh picked flowers in an earthenware cup nearby for decorating the finished confection.
“This is going to be a good day,” Alton said, wiggling out of Mal’s arms. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he darted down the hall toward the stairs.
Mrs. Shephard hummed under her breath. The tune was always the same when she was kneading dough, because the song, sung through three verses, was her way of measuring the time to knead before shaping the loaf.
“Are you making bread without me?” Emma asked, not looking away from her coffee cup.
“You don’t need worry about anything today but marrying that handsome devil,” the cook said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Shephard. I’m fond of you as well, you beautiful creature,” Malachi responded with a wink.
“Are you flirting with Mrs. Shephard? You can’t have her. I’ve already claimed her affections,” Cal said, padding into the kitchen and dropping a friendly kiss on the cook’s white cap.
“Oh, go on with ye.” Mrs. Shephard laughed. She offered a warm muffin to Calvin before he turned away, and he grinned.
“See? She likes me best.” He held up the muffin triumphantly.
“Are the others stirring yet?” Emma asked. She held her cup out to her brother, who was closest to the pot of coffee on the stove. “Refill, please and thank you.”
And so it went. Comfortable, warm, slightly chaotic once Freddie and Alton let the goats in, but everything she could hope for. Emma smiled at Mal. “Are you sure you want all this? You have a limited window to run if you’ve changed your mind.”
Malachi leaned over the table and dropped a kiss on her lips. “All the king’s men couldn’t drag me away.”
Epilogue
But Mama, Freddie the Red can’t win the battle with the Harlow Hellion. It’s not fair.” Alton crossed his arms and curled his lip.
Malachi bit back a smile as Emma stalled for time by taking a drink of lemonade and leaning against the railing of the ship, assessing their son.
Goodness, Alton had grown in the year since they’d married. The wind whipped through his blond hair, which had already lightened under the sun since their time at sea.
The Beauty had served them well for this voyage. The ship was barely large enough to comfortably sleep all the families, but a treasure hunt wouldn’t be the same without everyone on board. The greatest selling point had been a deck large enough for the children to run feral. This resulted in daily duels to the death between the boys, so Malachi thought the boat suited their family fine.
“Who died last time?” Emma asked.
“I did,” Alton said, but his tone made Malachi wonder.
Not to be fooled, Emma turned to Phee, who sat cross-legged with her back against the main mast as she whittled a piece of wood. “Phee, which of the boys died yesterday?”
“My only child died tragically at sea, I’m sorry to say.”
“Serves him right for choosing a life of piracy,” Cal called from the other side of the deck. Malachi laughed, then tried to turn the sound into a cough when Alton shot him an indignant look.
“Indeed. Where did we go wrong as parents?” Phee sounded bored as she raised the piece of wood to the sun and examined it, then resumed adding detail with her slim blade. The carving looked like a dragon, but he wasn’t sure.
Malachi shot Alton a look, and his son slumped his shoulders, then returned to Freddie, where he’d presumably die shortly.
