The Rogue and the Rival (48 page)

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Authors: Maya Rodale

BOOK: The Rogue and the Rival
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He took his son in his arms. Technically, this little one wasn’t his first son. Lady Grafton had given birth to, raised, and loved his first. But they were both his, and that was all that mattered. And when he held little James, named after Angela’s father, he knew it didn’t matter who was born first or second. They were all different but equally loved.
But this one was trouble already.
God, this one was trouble.
James had his mother’s eyes, and stared at him as if to ask,
Really, Father, do you know what you’re doing?
But for once, Phillip knew exactly what he was doing. And he told his son exactly that. And the little one yawned as if to say,
If you say so.
“I know so,” Phillip whispered.
“Are we ready, then?” Angela asked. They were all gathered in the chapel at Stanbrook Abbey for the baptism of their third child. Their third child to be baptized here. As per their ritual, they lit a candle for their newest child and placed it at the foot of the statue of the Virgin Mary and her baby.
Angela often had a similar smile as Mary did: sleepy and satisfied.
After the baptism and after ensuring that their three children were watched over by their thankfully vast number of relatives and friends, Phillip and Angela escaped for a moment to themselves.
“I never got to show you this,” Angela said, pushing open a door.
“It’s a room,” Phillip said, looking at the four stone walls that contained nothing more than a narrow bed, a table, and a chair.
“This was my room,” Angela said.
“How can you tell?” he asked. It looked the same as the room he had stayed in.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure, but it really seems like it.”
Phillip grinned and laughed.
“You know, I used to pray that I would find a good man to love me.”
“And then I arrived.”
“An unlikely savior, I admit.”
“I think you were the one to save me.”
“Does it matter who saved whom?”
It didn’t, really, so long as they had each other. Phillip told her he loved her—again. And she told him she loved him—again. Neither of them ever tired of hearing it. And then, because he was a scoundrel, he couldn’t help but notice that he was in an empty room with a bed and a beautiful woman. There was only one thing to do. Phillip did what he did best: he locked the door and made love to his wife.

 

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