Page 39 of The Marquess's Final Fling
“I’m grateful,” she acknowledged.
“Are we well this morning?” His gaze drifted toward the nursery.
“Very. Well fed in Reggie’s case. And still sleeping in Winston’s.” She nestled against her husband, content to rest here on his shoulder.
“Are you tired?” He stroked her hair and her shoulder. “Do you wish to return to bed to sleep?”
“No. I’m wide awake. Let’s get our gifts for the girls.”
“We can.”
She would have risen from his lap.
But he detained her with a hand to her own. “Those puppies will wait—and the girls are still asleep. I wish to give you your Christmas gift first.”
“Oh, Theo.” She brushed her lips on his. “My dear man, you must not spend money on me. I want for nothing. Nothing money can buy.”
“You are the sweetest woman in this world, Penelope Henley.”
“I emulate the man I married for sweetness.” Then she kissed him with all the ardor that her daily life imparted to her.
“Ah, but what I have purchased for you, you have long coveted.”
She sat straighter. “Is that so? I cannot think of a thing.”
From beneath his chair, he lifted a box. Long, not too tall, white paperboard, tied closed with a wide pretty chocolate-colored ribbon.
“I promised you this long ago but in the intervening years, you’ve not been of a form, shall we say, to accept them.”
She took the gift box in hand, shook its contents and said, “More than one gift?”
“True.”
“Now I am curious.”
“Go on.” He pursed his lips and gazed upon the box.
“I can use these?”
“I think so.”
“Often?”
“I’d wager you’d like to, yes.”
“Do I wear them?” she asked, because he was prone to buying her diaphanous silk nightgowns from Paris and sheer muslin chemises made in Florence.
“Most definitely.” His turquoise eyes danced with mischief.
His playfulness on such occasions told her much. And they delighted each other with this cat and mouse guessing game. “Do I wear them to court?”
He sputtered in laughter. “One. For the other, I’d venture that would not be wise.”
“Ah.” She tapped a fingernail to her lips. “To tea?”
He squinted.
“Hmmm.” She pulled the end of the ribbon and let it drift to the carpet. “Would your father like them both?”
