The Bad Baron's Daughter (26 page)

“Lesley?”

“Mmmmmm?”

“Do you know, it wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be.”

“Thank you,” he said. Then, “Your expectations, I collect, were not high.”

Katie giggled. “Not
that
, that was wonderful. I was talking about our wedding this morning.” She let her hand stray through his hair; it was a silky delight beneath her fingers. “You really have an enormous family, don’t you? I mean, twenty first cousins! But I’m afraid that Lady Brixton did not at all like it when Papa slapped her backside.”

“No. But everyone else did.”

Katie strained the onyx curls through her fingers. “Do you think Papa will like it in America?”

“He’d better like it. The ticket I bought him was only one way. Come here.”

Katie laughed again, though this time the sound came from deeper within her throat. “I’m here already.”

“Closer.” He rolled onto his back, drawing her gently over on top of him. He stroked the little freckled nose above him.

“Did I tell you where I got my nightgown?” asked Katie. “Laurel sent it to me! Lady Brixton said it wasn’t a fit garment for a decent woman to wear and it ought to have been white but Suzanne said she thought it would be just the thing and that Laurel ought to know. Did you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I thought you might not have noticed it much, you snatched it off me so quickly.”

“Poor Katie.” She felt his finger’s gentle urge beneath her chin, and raised her lips obligingly to his.

Between kisses she said, “I’ll bet when we met at the Maidenhead that you never thought we would ever be like this, together?”

“Mmm? Like this? I’m afraid, my innocent, that it was one of the first thoughts that occurred to me.”

“It’s very pretty of you to say so! But am I not too heavy for you?”

“Lord, no. Lie on me forever if you like.”

“I would, but we’d present a most unconventional appearance at your grandmother’s
soiree
for the prince next Thursday. Lesley, dearest Lesley, I’m so happy!”

“Good. It’s too late for an annulment.” His voice was muffled by the cascade of her auburn curls as he pressed his lips to her throat.

“Les-ley?”

“Mmmm?”

“I wondered—who do you like this better with… me or Laurel?”

“God. The things you say.” His voice was soft with tender amusement. “You. Of course you, Little Star.”