Page 81 of Wicked Rivals
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “You need not thank me for that. It is my honor and privilege.”
“If this is how you conduct your romantic gestures, I shall look forward to future ones. Shower me with more jewels, my lord, for this lady is worth it.” Rosalind flashed an impish grin.
“Minx,” he teased.
“Yes. And I believe you quite like it.”
“I do.” He smiled and stood. “Dinner?” He held out his hand. When she placed her palm in his, a heated spark flared between them, and she knew that deep down she was excited to see what being married to this man would be like. He was constantly changing her opinions about him and of marriage.
They were halfway to the dining room when they saw Charles in the hall patting his pockets and glancing about.
“Lost something?” Ashton asked.
Charles dug his fingers into the slender waistcoat pocket. “My watch. It’s been gone all day.” He spun around and headed back upstairs muttering.
A tiny giggle came from near the floor behind a potted plant a few feet from the dining room. Rosalind caught a glimpse of a dark-blue gown and little black booted feet disappearing from view. She squeezed Ashton’s arm and nodded in the pot’s direction. It was one of the farmers’ children.
“Oh dear,” she said with a raised voice. “Charles is always losing that watch. Wouldn’t it be most amusing if it turned up on his bed while we are all at dinner?” She hoped Ashton would play along.
He grinned and they walked past the potted plant, doing their best not to laugh. “Most amusing indeed.”
Before they reached the dining room, Rosalind tugged Ashton to a halt, studying his handsome face in the light from the wall sconces. His features were proud, aristocratic, even cold, but she was seeing him differently now. A lonely man with a family who did not understand the sacrifices he’d made to keep them secure all these years.
We are both survivors.
He gazed down at her, a tiny furrow between his brows. “What is it?”
“Would you… I mean…” She struggled for words. So many dreams had been abandoned when she was younger, but perhaps now…
“Children,” she finally whispered. “That is to say, do you ever think you would want any?”
Ashton glanced down at the floor, then nodded. “I confess children have never been important to me, at least thoughts of having them. Obviously it is my duty to have an heir. Rafe has shown time and again that he cannot be allowed to take over the estate should something ever happen to me.”
Rosalind noted something in how Ashton said the words and nodded. “I agree. You cannot have ahighwaymaninheriting the title and land. Lord knows he’d turn it into a thieves’ den.”
He stared down at her. “You know then that it was Rafe who stopped your coach?”
She nodded. “I was torn whether I should confess the matter to you, but I inferred from your tone just now that you already knew but did not know how to tell me.”
“It is a delicate matter,” Ashton agreed.
“I assume you’ll have him return my coin purse?”
“I intend to settle matters, yes.” He was silent a moment longer, and then that vulnerability was back in his eyes. “And what of you?” he asked, turning the subject away from Rafe. “Do you want children, I mean.”
“Henry and I never had any. I fear I might be barren. Does that change anything?”
Ashton stared at her for a long moment. “No. If we are never blessed with children, that does not mean we aren’t still blessed, even if Rafe does end up inheriting.” Ashton’s wry chuckle surprised her.
For some strange reason, his words about still being blessed struck her as sweet.Toosweet. Her eyes misted. If he kept doing this, she’d lose herself to him, and any ability she had to stop him from hurting her.
“I should like to try for children,” she whispered.
Ashton gave her a courtly bow and a wicked teasing leer. “Then we shall try to make that desire come true,severaltimes a day if need be, on every surface I can conceivably take you on, my dear.”
The thought of them together, making love everywhere, had her blushing, even after everything they’d already done. Her blood burned with a fresh wave of lust.
