Page 29 of The Duke's Christmas Scandal
Twining her arms around his neck, she dragged him in for a kiss. “I was in no danger. You caught me.”
“Minx.”
Gently, he placed her on the ground.
The footmen who’d been assisting her by holding the ladder and calling out the placement of ornaments, had discreetly scattered after removing the offending device.
“Me, me, me!”
Startled, they turned to find their infant son crawling as fast as he could, giggling wildly, with a stuffed toy in the shape of a cat clutched in one tiny fist. Their toddler daughter chased after him, enraged at the theft of her favorite toy.
Tavi exchanged a bemused glance with Ian. They divided to conquer, sweeping in to rescue their children before they escalated into outright war.
Ian corralled his kicking, screaming little girl, Mimi. Although she was named for Aung Margaret, her nickname came from the way she yelledmeinstead ofmineat the top of her lungs whenever her brother made off with one of her toys. At two-and-a-half, her vocabulary remained an adorable work in progress.
“No, darling. That’s your sister’s kitten.” Tavi wrested the disgusting object from her son’s drooling mouth. Deprived of his stolen prize, he launched into an enraged squall.
“Did you get around to making him one of his own?” Ian, the Duke of Susskind, patted Mimi’s red curls and tucked the soggy, misshapen stuffed animal into his daughter’s arms. She quieted instantly, putting the plush beneath her chin with her thumb held sullenly between plump red lips.
“Still trying to finish it.” Tavi kissed her son’s head before handing him to their nurse, who arrived belatedly at the scene of the crime. She handed him off to Nurse, saying, “This one needs a bath.”
“He shall have one, Your Grace.”
Inwardly, Tavi winced. She had no patience for this fashion of highborn ladies handing their children over to paid minders—but she had guests to prepare for, and to be honest, she didn’t mind having help. As inconvenient as they were, she and Ian preferred to have their children underfoot. It kept life interesting.
It felt like family.
Still, a duchess had a certain image to uphold—and even if hers was hardly the most elegant or fashionable, Tavi wanted to be a good hostess. She’d cultivated a circle of friends who appreciated her warmth and lack of artifice. The ladies helped her navigate the unfamiliar, and often unspoken, rituals of the peerage, while their husbands helped Ian forge connections. With Fellsgrove mostly restored, he was becoming an influential politician.
He could have married a highborn lady. To Tavi, it spoke well of his character that he’d chosen to marry her before the peerage rearranged his entire life. They’d managed the ensuing scandal, and the transition, hand-in-hand.
“This one needs a wash, too.” Ian set Mimi on the floor. She refused to release him until her Da walked her to Nanny and told her she must go up for her bath, now. Mimi had become excessively attached to her father ever since her little brother’s arrival.
Even with their children gone, Tavi and Ian still weren’t alone. Despite the restoration and expansion of Fellsgrove Castle’s living quarters, Tavi constantly found herself tripping over maids and footmen. They were everywhere, lurking about, trying to be helpful at every turn.
Tonight, she needed to get her husband alone. Truly alone. Her gift for him was not meant for public view.
She grinned just thinking of it.
“Ian.”
“Darling?”
Tavi went to her oversized Christmas tree and tugged a box out from under it. She felt her husband’s palm slide down the curve of her bottom while she was bent over. “Cheeky devil.”
“You love it.”
“Speaking of cheeks, open this. I made it specially for you.” Tavi glanced around. Spying two footmen and a maid hovering nearby, she clapped her hands loudly and said, “Leave us.”
When they werefinallyalone, Ian tugged the ribbon and removed the lid. Tavi bounced on the balls of her feet.
The box fell. Ian examined her painting with an expression of shock that quickly transformed into a snort of laughter. “Five years of lessons, and this is your choice of subject?”
“It’s a perfectly adequate painting!”
“More than adequate, darling. But why on earth did you choose to show me posed naked on a divan?”
“To commemorate your birthmark.” Tavi giggled and slid her hand down his ass, squeezing where the red spot was hidden behind layers of fabric. “Without that fortuitous quirk of physiology, we might never have met. Besides, you never know when one of our descendants might need to prove his parentage!”
