Page 73 of The Viscount and the Vixen
“So you married her?” Edward asked incredulously.
“Better me than my father.” The whole thing sounded ludicrous and made him come across as a fool. “He signed a damned contract stating that the girl would marry when she arrived. It was either him or me.”
Edward burst out laughing. “The clever bugger. I’d wager that all along he planned for it to be you.”
“You’d win that wager. I figured it out a bit late. Not that I have any complaints. She’s comely enough and quite talented in areas where I appreciate talent.”
“Good in bed then?” Ashe asked boldly.
“Marvelous in bed.”
“Your father had been after you to take a wife,” Edward pointed out.
“He never much liked us not obeying him, did he?”
“He seems...” Ashe’s voice trailed off as he studied his scotch. “HappierI suppose is the word I’m looking for. More at ease.”
“Portia has changed things around here a bit. They’re not quite so gloomy.” Understatement. Not all the changes she’d made were visible. He expected at any minute for the clocks to simply start ticking on their own. “It’s been a while since my father was out chasing wraiths over the moors.”
“You don’t suppose he’s upstairs filling the children’s heads with tales of ghosts snatching them in the night, do you?” Edward asked, clear concern in his voice.
“They’re too young to fully comprehend what he may be spouting,” Ashe assured him.
“Allie’s not. She’s sharp as a whip, that one. Took after her father. If I don’t finish with a bedtime story, she’ll remind me the next night exactly where I left off. Uncanny the things she comprehends and recalls.”
“Is it difficult raising your brother’s daughter?” Locke asked.
Edward shook his head. “Not a day goes by that I don’t wish Albert were still here, but having Allie in my life is no hardship, even if I’m not the one who sired her. I see a good deal of Albert in her.”
Which meant he saw a good deal of himself. Although Locke had never had difficulty telling the twins apart, some people had.
“Do you suppose we have time before dinner for a quick ride over the moors?” Ashe asked.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Locke said.
“I could stay in this room all day,” Minerva mused on a soft sigh.
Portia had brought them to the morning room to enjoy their tea and biscuits. They were sitting in the area near the windows that would be jutting out into a garden if they possessed one. It would no doubt be next year before she had flowers blooming.
“Whenever we visited,” Julia began, “I was curious about the rooms hidden behind closed doors, but was always afraid I’d find a ghost lurking about.”
“No, only spiders,” Portia assured her.
Julia visibly shuddered. “You are courageous.”
“Hardly. It just made me sad to think of everything being left to ruin.”
“This house has needed a woman’s touch for a good many years,” Julia said. “I’m glad you’re here. It feels different already, more welcoming, less frightening. And the marquess seems quite content.”
“He’s anticipating an heir.”
“Are you with child?” Minerva asked.
Portia quickly shook her head. “It’s too soon.”
Minerva smiled. “Not really. It can happen the first time as easily as any other time. Of course I am assuming that Locksley has exercised his husbandly rights.”
Portia wondered if she’d suddenly landed in the middle of summer. Her skin was clammy and warm. “Fervently and rather often,” she said, her voice low. She’d discussed men quite frankly and openly with a couple of other women when she lived in London. She didn’t know why she was uncomfortable with these two. Perhaps because they were ladies, and she’d always assumed the upper-crust females never carried on conversations about what went on behind closed doors.
