“That you wish me to bear your great, giant brood.” She sighed dramatically. “Well, I suppose I might concede, but we must make a bargain first.”
“This again.”
“Yes. You will say it. Go on.”
“It is the finest study a man has ever had.”
“Very good. Now, the second part.”
“And the library has a great many books.”
She raised a brow at him. “You can do better.”
“Daft woman. Ye’re a right nuisance.”
“If you put a bit of effort into it, I might just find something clever to do with that rose milk hand cream this evening.”
His head fell to her shoulder. “God Almighty, Gus. You’re killin’ me.”
“Yes, yes. Tell me about your library, Bastian.”
“It is finer than other men’s libraries furnished by other men’s wives.”
“See? That’s better.”
“It’s ridiculous. You know how much I love the rooms ye made for me.”
She smiled and stroked his hair. It was getting long. She’d have to trim it again soon. “But you spoiled my surprise, and I have not yet recovered from the disappointment.”
He laughed, the sound a rumble moving from his body into hers. “Will you ever recover?”
“Someday,” she said. “For now, I like to hear how much it pleases you.”
Lifting his head, he slowly frowned. “I thought we were making a bargain.”
She traced the cleft in his chin with her smallest finger. “Mmm. Yes. I will bear you dozens of Kilbrenner boys.”
“And I will do my part. With the greatest pleasure.”
She met his eyes and smiled, seeing love there in the onyx. “We have an agreement, then, Mr. Reaver.” She offered him her hand.
“That is not how I seal anything with the mother of my giant brood.”
“I am not the mother of your giant brood just yet.”
He leaned closer, whispering against her lips, “But you will be, love. You will be soon enough, eh?” Then he took his kiss, sealing their bargain in full.
~~*
EPILOGUE
“Do not suppose this to be the end of our correspondence, Mr. Kilbrenner. You still have much to learn, and I still have much to say.” —The Dowager Marchioness of Wallingham to Mr. Elijah Kilbrenner in an addendum to the addendum to a letter of felicitations on said gentleman’s robust embrace of familial duty.
16 February 1825
My dear Mr. Kilbrenner,
You appear to be in a contest of fertility. I have it on good authority—not yours, of course, as your correspondence may best be described as sparse—that you and Mrs. Kilbrenner are once again expecting a child. One hopes it may be a daughter, as four sons of such gargantuan size are not so much offspring as a siege army.
Equally, one hopes Lady Tannenbrook’s newest addition is male. Given Lord Tannenbrook’s disposition toward his daughters, such an eventuality may save a fifth girl the heartbreak of spinsterhood.
By the by, Mrs. Kilbrenner’s uncle appears to have met with further misfortune. After the dreadful impoverishment wrought by their failed investment scheme, Sir Phillip and Lady Widmore must find it most perplexing to have been robbed fully twenty times in five years. This incident, at least, did not involve injury, as have the previous fourteen, although Lady Widmore reportedly has descended into mad despair. The thief took the last of her jewels and even her gown, you see, forcing the poor wretch to return to Binchley Manor in a severe state of undress on a cart pulled by an ass. Such grievous humiliation has become a frequent occurrence for Sir Phillip and his wife. Most unusual, though perhaps the Fates have their reasons.
One other bit of news: An acquaintance of yours, Lord Holstoke, intends to return to London for the Season. I understand he is seeking a wife. Given his family history of madness and his own peculiar nature, one can only suppose he will meet with great difficulty. I expect the proceedings will prove most entertaining to observe. Perhaps I shall offer him my counsel. It appears to have benefitted you greatly.
Do give my kindest regards to Mrs. Kilbrenner. I shall expect her for luncheon when she arrives in Town.
Yrs,
Dorothea, The Dowager Marchioness of Wallingham
Addendum to letter of 16 February
24 February 1825
My dear Mr. Kilbrenner,
You have no doubt learned of the birth of Lord Tannenbrook’s heir apparent. I am gratified Lady Tannenbrook’s “Inkling” has proven correct, though Mrs. Kilbrenner must surely suffer some disappointment. The dear disguises it well, but she cannot possibly prefer being the wife of a lowborn ruffian to being the wife of an earl.
Yrs,
Dorothea, The Dowager Marchioness of Wallingham
P.S. Rec’d Mrs. Kilbrenner’s letter moments ago. Evidently, lowborn ruffians are much to her liking. I credit my tireless instruction in gentlemanly comportment. A lady prefers a gentleman, after all.
~~*