In The Prince's Bed (39 page)

“I’m so glad. He’s had high hopes for that new strain of barley, and I know he wanted to be able to boast of it to Lord Draker when his lordship arrives.”

“If you aren’t careful, your husband will become one of those odd fellows who spends all his time at sheep-shearings and harvests.”

Better that than spending it like Papa, with his mistresses and his gambling. “That’s not very likely. Mr. Dawes will have the estate well in hand soon enough. And then Alec can do what he really wants.”

“Return to London society?” Mama said hopefully. She was still waiting to make her grand debut as mother of a countess.

“Breed horses.” Lusitanos and Suffolk punch horses, to be exact.

“He’s buying more horses? But you already have several,” her mother protested. Katherine laughed. “My husband seems to think one can never have too many. And once he starts with his horses, you can forget about London.”

Which she wouldn’t mind in the least—she loved their life in the country. And once the baby was born, Alec said he’d teach her some riding tricks. Though the only time he’d tried, they’d ended up making love in the stables instead of riding.

She smiled down at her belly. “I wonder how big a pony your papa will buy for you, little angel?” she mused aloud.

“Angels don’t need ponies,” a male voice teased from behind them. “They have wings.”

The glimpse Katherine caught of him in the tiny dressing table mirror was enough to make her heart swell with love. She turned on the stool to flash him a smile.

He answered it with a grin as he strolled into the room. “And here are two more angels, both looking lovely as usual.”

Mama gave a girlish giggle. “Oh, go on with you, my lord.” She headed for the door. “But I know when I’m not wanted. You young lovers are all the same.” She paused in the doorway. “I did want to ask,
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however… Bridget is in dire need of a new pair of shoes, and there’s—”

“Will fifty pounds cover whatever you and the children need?” Alec asked, knowing exactly how this worked.

“Oh, yes, my lord, thank you, my lord,” she gushed, before sailing from the room with a smile on her face.

Katherine laughed. “You are such a soft touch.”

He looked rueful as he walked up and bent to kiss her forehead. “It’s really your money, you know.”

“For now,” she said tenderly. “But if your barley harvest is as fine as it looks to be, and your horse-breeding efforts are successful, we will soon have money of our own.”

When his face lit up, she knew she’d chosen exactly the right thing to ease his pride. “Wait till you see the fields, sweetheart. Dawes says the barley has grown beyond his expectations. Next year we’ll plant all the fields with it, and then—” He broke off. “But that’s not what I came to tell you.”

“Oh?”

Something dropped on the table behind her, startling her. Alec bent to brush her ear with his lips. “It’s your turn to choose, sweetheart. Last time I chose.”

She turned to stare longingly at
The Rake’s Rhetorick
. “We can’t. Lord Draker might arrive with his sister any minute. We’re planning her debut, you know.”

“She’s waited this long for it; she can wait a few minutes more.”

“A few minutes, hah! The last time we tried a position from the
Rhetorick
, it tookushalf an hour to achieve it.”

He slid his hand inside her bodice to fondle her breast. “Ah, but it was a blissful half hour.”

She sucked in a breath as his touch sparked fires. Even carrying his child hadn’t curbed her craving for him. With a smile, she rose to slide her arms about his neck. “You’re incorrigible, husband of mine.”

“No more than you.” Eyes gleaming, he swept his hot gaze down her. “As I recall, you also found the Swooping Eagle position blissful.”

She stared up into the face of the man she loved more each day. “Yes, but I’m not so limber these days.”

He grinned. “All right.” Taking her by surprise, he lifted her onto the dressing table. “Then we’ll have to use a position
I
created.”

As he dragged her chemise up her legs, she couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, and what is this called? The Dressing Table Dip? The Rakehell’s Rocking Chair?”

He gazed at her with a warmly tender look. “I call it Iversley in Love.”

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“Ah,
that
one,” she whispered as she gave herself up to his embrace. “I do so love the old favorites.”