Susan Johnson (32 page)

Her laughter trilled into the sunlit room, and midway, Robbie stopped the silvery sound with a kiss.

“Mama! What are you laughing about?” Angus’s high-pitched cry penetrated through the door, piercing the silence.

Robbie’s mouth abruptly lifted from hers and, with a wry grin, he said, “Does this mean we’re finished making up?”

“Unless you can make love while overlooking the clamor coming through that door. I’m not sure who to bet on in that contest.”

“No contest there,” he pleasantly replied, lifting her from his lap. Angus’s deafening assault of queries were now augmented by the shushing sounds of his siblings.

Smoothing her skirt, Roxie cast him a searching glance. “Are you sure you want to take on all of this? Last chance to escape.”

“I am escaping.” Rising, he towered over her. “For your information, I’m escaping into a paradise of your making.” His smile lit up the room, her life, her world. “And I’ll see that you’re happy, that
were
happy,” he whispered, dropping a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “My word as a Carre.”

She felt for a moment as though she had her own knight-errant, who would slay all the dragons that threatened her. “I should call you Tristan,” she said, smiling.

He shrugged. “There are still a few dragons … here and there.”

“We’ll stay out of their way.”

He smiled, but knew better than to verbally agree. Argyll and Queensberry would be a force to be reckoned
with in the future. “Come, my mama-to-be,” he said instead, taking her hand, “let’s see what the children think of our marriage plans.”

W
HEN THEY OPENED THE DOOR, THE CHILDREN
screamed their welcome for Robbie.

Glancing at Roxane, Robbie grinned. “I told you to ask them.” Bending down, he scooped Angus into one arm, hugged the other children in turn, and responded to their greetings with smiling good cheer.

“We votedded!” Angus shouted over the noisy exchange of greetings and questions, his high-pitched voice filled with irrepressible elation.

“Shush,” Jeanne murmured, a blush coloring her fair skin.

“But we did!” Undeterred, the young boy happily declared, “And no one likes Callum, ’cuz he always tells us what to do.”

“Voted for what?” Robbie queried, a smile playing over his handsome face.

“Angus talks too much,” James asserted.

“You have to marry Mama ’cuz we voted and so there,” Angus proclaimed, safe in Robbie’s arms, assured of the untainted goodness of the world at age five. “Don’t he?” he inquired of his embarrassed siblings.

“If you say so,” Robbie agreed, his smile broadening as he gazed at Roxane. “And I think this marriage better be really quick.”

“Yippee!” Angus exclaimed. “Did you bring all your rapiers?”

“I’ll send for them, if it’s all right with your mother,” Robbie replied, regarding Roxane with amusement.

“Say yes, Mama!” Angus cried.

“Do say yes, Mama,” Robbie murmured, putting his hand out to draw her near.

She surveyed her children and the hopeful expectation alive on their faces. “Is this what you want?” she asked, feeling a happiness so delicious she reveled in the sensation.

“If you do, Mama,” Jeanne solemnly replied.

“And you all agree?” She gazed at the older boys, who all nodded, their cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Only if you’re happy, Mama,” James said in a grown-up tone.

“Are you happy, Mama?” Robbie asked, squeezing her fingers lightly.

Tears came to her eyes; her children’s pleasure was so apparent. “I think we all are.”

“We’re going to need fireworks to celebrate,” Robbie observed, winking at her.

“Fireworks!” The children’s voices rose in a loud chorus of approval.

“I think we should be married tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” The screams of delight brought the servants down from the nursery. And once the staff was assured of everyone’s safety, Robbie suggested they all repair to the nursery to plan the wedding.

Roxane lost complete control of her festivities. The children were so filled with ideas, their excitement was contagious. “Do you mind?” Robbie murmured when Angus was suggesting clowns and acrobats for the entertainment.

“As long as they’re happy,” she quietly said. “Thank you for including them.”

“I may draw the line at our honeymoon, although I’m not sure either one of us has much control over your delightful brood.”

“At least the baby will be well entertained.”

His expression turned grave for a moment before he composed his features. “No doubt,” he said.

“It’s your child.” Her violet eyes were filled with tenderness. “I’m sure.”

He exhaled as though the weight of the world had been taken from his shoulders. “I didn’t think I was so territorial, so reactionary. I thought I could be blase.” He half rose from his chair, lifted her from where she sat, and placed her on his lap. “I find I’m completely proprietary. I hope you’ll tolerate an outrageously jealous husband. And thank you for my child,” he said with such profound feeling he found himself looking away for a moment to compose himself.

She touched his cheek, and drew his face around so she could see his eyes, shiny with emotion. “Thank you for our child. You’ve made us all very happy.”

“For a thousand years,” he murmured.

“At least.”

“And I
will
make you happy.”

“You always have, even—” She smiled.

“Even when you wanted to kill me,” he murmured. “But then I know exactly how to put you in a better mood.”

“Don’t you, now,” she whispered.

“So we should get rid of all those guests downstairs, so I can devote more time to your … pleasure.”

“And how, exactly, are we to do that? Lady Balfour is here for a fortnight.”

“Let me handle it.”

“You won’t insult anyone.”

“No one but Callum,” he replied with a grin.

He accomplished the remarkable feat in record time. The carriages bowled down the drive before the sun had begun to set, none of the guests disconcerted, save Callum Murray.

“How did you do it?” Roxane marveled, watching the procession of vehicles drive away, standing hand in hand with Robbie on the porticoed porch.

“I invited them all to the christening.”

“You didn’t!” Her face turned three shades of pink.

“No,” he said, grinning. “I invited them all to our wedding reception next month. That will give us plenty of time for a honeymoon.”

“Lady Balfour will have her coachman drive hell for leather to Edinburgh to spread the news.”

“As will the others in their local neighborhoods. So you see, no one’s left unhappy, with such scandalous gossip to disperse.”

“They’ll all be counting the days. You know that.”

“Do I care? And if anyone dares to question the
premature
birth of our child, I’ll call them out,” he pleasantly noted.

“Good God, promise me you won’t, or half the country will be decimated by your sword.”

“Let me threaten them, anyway.”

He looked so hopeful, she laughed.

“As if I could stop you from doing anything you pleased.”

“Only you can.”

She understood, looking into his eyes, that he meant exactly what he said. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is mine, my lady. And now that I’ve
emptied the house of tedious guests, I suggest we entertain the children at dinner. Once they’re safely tucked into bed, I’ll turn my attentions exclusively to your entertainment.”

“A delightful prospect.”

“I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“But then I have since that first night.”

“I know.”

He always had, and now she understood as well that love was love without regard for circumstances, locale, personal idiosyncracies, or acts of God. It transcended practicalities and boundaries. It couldn’t be contained, repulsed, or curtailed.

It was the triumphant, unequivocal exaltation of the spirit.

It was simply love.

T
HE WEDDING HAD TO WAIT FOR FOUR DAYS
, though, to give time for Johnnie, Elizabeth, Amelia, David, and their families to travel from Edinburgh. Roxane’s children were impatient, saying, “Are they here yet?” so many times, Roxane threatened them with a month of stable duty if they didn’t show some restraint. Her warning served to diminish the queries to only a hundred times a day. Manageable, Robbie said with a grin, for everyone with nerves of steel.

But he empathized with the children, as impatient as they, and when he said on the morning of the fourth day, “Let’s ride out to meet them,” he was greeted with cheers.

So their guests were met many miles short of their destination and escorted to Glenroth by a cavalcade of riotous children. Once the carriages reached the house, the Carberry children tumbled out of their vehicle and immediately ran off with their friends, leaving the latest addition to the Carre family to be cooed over.

“How beautiful he is,” Roxane said, admiring baby Thomas, gazing up at her from his mother’s arms. “Look, Robbie, he has Johnnie’s eyes.”

“And his coloring and size as well,” Amelia noted. “He’s a big baby.”

“How much did he weigh?” Roxane asked, and the women compared notes on newborns as they walked into the house and sat down to visit in the sunny drawing room. The men’s discussion centered on the machinations of the treaty commission, a conversation everyone joined in over tea and drinks. Dinner that night was a family affair, with the children included, and toasts were offered to the happy couple.

“I’m not sure it gets any better than this,” Roxane said as she and Robbie came down from tucking the children into their beds. “Dinner was wonderful. I haven’t seen the children so happy in a long time. Thank you,” she murmured, touching Robbie’s arm.

“I’ve never heard such creative toasts,” he said, grinning. “Or bizarre ones.”

“Their youthful ideas of pleasure are different.”

“Apparently. Not that I consider a wish for happiness that includes elephants and tigers anything but an act of kindness.”

“Good.” Her sidelong glance was playful. “At least we don’t have to produce an elephant for tomorrow.”

“Truly a blessing,” he murmured.

“Are you sure now?” She stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway and scrutinized his face.

“I’ve always been sure.”

“And we’re doing the right thing?”

“The rightest.” He didn’t belittle her nerves; he knew her uncertainties, and while they weren’t his, he understood her concern for her children. “They do like me, you know.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Sometimes I think Kilmarnock ruined my sense of spontaneity.”

“Well resurrect it.”

“Starting tomorrow.”

“Starting now. Youll always have my blessing to do as you wish. Ill never stand in your way.”

“How brave of you,” she teased.

He shook his head. “How lucky for me.”

T
HEY WERE MARRIED IN ROXANE’S SMALL CHAPEL
, set amidst a thicket of wild plum, the sound of bird-song heard occasionally over the harpsichord music that accompanied the ceremony. Her minister was a family retainer, as had been his father before him, and even while the law gave no allowance for patronage, Reverend Thomson was already training his son to take his place some day on the Forrestor estate.

Johnnie stood as groomsman to his brother, and Amelia was matron of honor for Roxane. The children were involved as well, strewing flower petals down the aisle, James giving his mother away, all of them singing a hymn of thanksgiving for the occasion. And when the ceremony came to the point where the question was asked: “Is there anyone who opposes this marriage?” Angus shouted, “No, no, no,” so loudly, he startled the minister. Robbie signaled the flustered man to continue, while Roxane cast a restraining glance at her youngest. In short order—Jeanne now holding on to Angus’s hand with an iron grip—the ceremony was over, and Roxane had become the tenth Countess of Greenlaw.

“Finally,” Robbie said under his breath, and, sweeping his bride into his arms, he kissed her thoroughly. Cheers erupted and followed them as he carried her down the aisle and out into the sunshine of the fall afternoon. “Now You’re truly mine,” he whispered, smiling down at her.

“Now
were
yours.” Her joyful smile matched his.

“We’re going to need a bigger house, aren’t we?” he murmured, brushing her lips with his.

She laughed. “No. Bransley Hill’s eighty rooms will do just nicely.”

“A bigger nursery, then.” A twinkle shone in his eye.

“We’ll see about that.”

“I’ll see about that.”

“If I allow it.”

“As I recall, you’re not too hard to persuade,” he said, grinning.

“A charming quality in a husband.” She smiled back.

“But then it’s so much fun making you happy.”

“I truly am.”

“
We
are,” he reminded her, and as if on cue, the children poured through the chapel door and surrounded them in a tumultuous throng.

At the wedding luncheon, more toasts were proposed, and high good spirits prevailed throughout the day. That evening the promised fireworks capped the festivities, the elaborate spectacle a colorful equivalent of everyone’s joy and gladness.