Scandals Bride

Chapter 19

Catriona was not called upon to make any declaration on the question of her husband's complete recovery; the next morning, Richard demonstrated his return to full vigor by ensuring he reached the breakfast table a full hour before she did.

When, distinctly breathless, having lifted heavy lids and found him-and the dawn-long gone, Catriona rushed into the dining hall, she was greeted with wide smiles by the other Cynster ladies and knowing grins by the Cynster men. Straightening her spine, she swept up to the main table; her incorrigible spouse uncurled his long length and rose to pull out her chair.

"I wondered when you'd wake."

The words, murmured in a tone of absolute innocence, brushed her ear as she sat; Catriona stifled a too-vivid recollection of what he'd done to ensure she hadn't.

Lifting her gaze, she met the Dowager's bright eyes.

"Bon! He is recovered, is he not? So all is well, and we really must return south-the Season will start soon, and Louise will be wanting to take the twins to the modistes."

"Indeed," Honoria agreed. As Patience turned to speak to the twins, Honoria turned to Catriona. "I know you'll understand-I want to get back to Sebastian. We've never before left him for so long."

Catriona smiled serenely, sincerely. "I'm so grateful that you came and have stayed for so long. Naturally, you need to get back. And"-with her eyes she indicated Richard, on her other side, talking to Devil and Vane-"there's really no reason you need stay."

Honoria smiled widely, squeezed her hand in empathy, then looked across the table at Devil. "So we can all leave tomorrow."

"We may as well," Patience agreed, turning from the twins.

His gaze briefly touching Vane's, then Richard's, Devil sat back in his chair. And regarded his wife. "Actually, it's not that simple. I'll need a day or so to talk things over with Richard-there's some matters I've set in train that I need to work through with him."

"And I want to go over the trees in the orchard," Vane said. "There's some grafting work you should consider."

"Don't forget those funds that we must discuss before I leave," Gabriel put in.

Honoria, Patience and the Dowager stared up the table.

"Does this mean," Honoria eventually asked, "that you're not yet ready to leave?"

Devil grinned. "It'll just take a day or two." He transferred his limpid gaze to Catriona. "We wouldn't want Richard to overdo things and suffer a relapse."

All the ladies turned to look at Richard, who returned their scrutiny with a look of helpless innocence. Honoria barely stifled a snort; she stood. "I suppose," she conceded, "a day or two more won't hurt."

Honoria looked up as Patience slid into her chair at the breakfast table the next morning. "Have you seen Devil?"

Patience shook her head. "I was about to ask if you'd seen Vane."

Honoria frowned, then both she and Patience looked up. Gliding more slowly than usual, Catriona joined them. She sank into her carved chair. And looked at the teapot. Then she reached out, lifted the pot, and, with careful concentration, filled her cup. Setting the teapot down, she studied the full cup, then reached for the sugarbowl, and dropped in two lumps.

Honoria grinned and exchanged a swift glance with Patience before turning to Catriona. "Where's Richard?"

Eyes closed as she savored her tea, Catriona shook her head. "I don't know-and I don't want to know. Not until I've recovered."

Honoria grinned; Patience chuckled.

Catriona frowned. "Actually, I vaguely-very vaguely, you understand-recall him saying something about having to be busy about 'Cynster business' today." She cracked open her lids. "I assumed he meant with Gabriel."

They all looked down the table, to the four empty places usually filled by the cousins at breakfast time. From the detritus, it was clear they'd already broken their fast.

Honoria frowned. "They're not in the library. I looked."

Patience frowned, too. "What I can't understand is why Vane left so early-he came down before dawn."

"Devil, too."

Catriona frowned, then shook her head. "I can't recall."

Just then, McArdle appeared, stumping slowly along. With his stiff joints, he was always a late riser. Heading for the end of the table, he stopped by Catriona's chair. "The master asked me to give you this, mistress."

Eyes opening fully, Catriona took the single folded sheet and nodded her thanks; McArdle stumped on. For one instant, she studied the missive; Richard had never written to her before. Unfolding it, she scanned the five lines within-she blinked; her eyes kindled. Lips firming, she set her teacup down with a definite click.

"What is it?" Honoria asked.

"Just listen." Drawing a deep breath, Catriona read: "Dear C-Please tell H and P. We have gone to conclude a business deal. We'll be away for four days. You are not to worry. R." She looked at Patience and Honoria. "The 'not' is underlined three times."

They fumed and swore vengeance, then, all three together, they bustled out to the stable.

Catriona led the way. "Huggins-when did the master leave?"

Huggins straightened, letting down the hoof he was checking. "Rode out just at dawn, the boy said."

"And the others?" Honoria asked.

Huggins touched his cap in a half bow. "With him, Your Grace 'Twas the master, His Grace, and both the other Mister Cynsters, ma'am. They rode out all together."

"Which way?" Catriona demanded.

Huggins nodded to the east. Catriona turned and looked, even though the house blocked her view. She glanced back at Huggins. "They rode out of the vale?"

Huggins raised his brows. "Don't know as to that, but they took the road that ways."

"Did they take any provisions?" Patience asked. "Saddlebags, blankets?"

Huggins grimaced. "They saddled their own horses, I believe, ma am. There's usually only one sleepy lad in the stables that early. I doubt he'd 'ave noticed."

"Never mind. Thank you, Huggins." Catriona motioned the other two away. Together, they crossed the yard and went into the gardens, to where, once past the side of the house, they could look down the vale, into the now well-risen sun. Catriona gestured to the vale's mouth. "If they left near dawn, they'll be well beyond the vale by now."

"Well beyond our reach," Honoria observed darkly.

Patience frowned. "What on earth are they about?"

"And where on earth," Catriona waspishly added, "have they gone to be about it?"

"Mistress! Come quickly!"

Three days later, working at the table in the stillroom, Catriona looked up to see Tom jigging in the doorway.

"Come see! Come see!" A smile splitting his face, he beckoned her wildly, then dashed toward the front hall.

Catriona dusted her hands and set off in pursuit.

"What is it?" Patience came out of the library as Tom's running footsteps echoed through the hall.

Catriona lifted her arms in a shrug.

"There's something going on outside." With Patience, Catriona turned to see Honoria hurrying down the stairs. "All the children have rushed down into the park. There's some sort of commotion going on down there."

They all looked at each other, then turned and glided, as fast as dignity allowed, to the front door. Between them, they hauled the door wide, then went out onto the porch.

The sight that met their eyes did not, at first, convey much-they were just in time to glimpse the last of Tom as he flew down the drive into the park. His cohorts, no where in sight, were presumably ahead of him. Around both sides of the house, other members of the household and manor farm streamed, deserting the kitchens, the work rooms, the stables and barns, all rushing for the drive.

McArdle stumped up to the steps, nodding toward the park. "We've some new arrivals, seemingly."

His face was relaxed, his lips curving; Catriona was about to quiz him, when she sensed a presence at her back. She turned and beheld the Dowager.

Patience and Honoria moved aside to give her space; in her most regal voice, Helena demanded: '"What is going on here?"

"Mooo-rhooo!"

The bellow had them all turning, staring at where the drive came up from the park. A huge hulking bull came lolloping up out of the trees, a long rope trailing from a ring in his nose. In his wake, a noisy gaggle of children, grooms and farmhands came tumbling, tripping and laughing, calling and screeching. The bull ignored them, sighting the party on the steps, he rolled happily forward, tossing his head, heavy rolls of muscle rippling. Cloven feet clacking loudly on the cobbles, he cantered to the steps, then, planting his front feet wide, came to a skidding halt. He looked the ladies over, then stared directly at Catriona, raised his huge head, uttered a mammoth bellow, shook his head vigorously, then looked down and exhaled in a huge, shuddering snort.

The party on the steps simply stared.

"Got 'im!" The eldest farmhand pounced on the rope, then reeled it in, shortening it to lead the bull away. Looking the animal over, the lad glanced up at Catriona, his eyes shining. "He's a prime 'un, ain't he, mistress?"

"Indeed." Catriona knew enough to know a prize bull when she saw one. "But where…?" Looking up, her eyes widened as more cattle came into view. Two yearling bulls led the way, trotting happily along under Gabriel's watchful eye. They were followed by a long line of cows and heifers, ambling contentedly, mooing and lowing; Catriona had lost count by the time three other riders came into view toward the end of the long procession.

Devil and Vane rode on either side of the stream of cattle, keeping them moving, watching for stragglers but even more watching out for the children now running alongside the beasts, hands out to fleetingly touch the soft hides as, heads swinging, the cows plodded on.

Right at the end rode Richard, McAlvie at his stirrup, McAlvie's lads flanking them, striding along, eyes on the cattle, proud grins on their faces. McAlvie looked fit to burst with enthusiasm. He was talking animatedly to Richard, who, smiling, replied with an indulgent air.

From the instant he appeared, Catriona could look at nothing else; driven by the worry of the past three days, she scanned his tall figure critically, but could see no signs of exhaustion. He rode easily, long limbs relaxed, holding himself in the saddle with his usual indolent grace.

He was well. She knew that even before, reaching the courtyard, he looked up and saw her. The smile that lifted his lips, the light that lit his eyes as he viewed her-despite the distance between them she could feel it like a touch-assured her as little else could that his three days away had done nothing to harm him.

"McAlvie!" Gabriel hailed the herdsman. "Where do you want these two?" He indicated the yearling bulls, now coralled by the crowd to one side of the steps; with a word, McAlvie left Richard and hurried to take charge.

The courtyard was a sea of excitement, of ordered pandemonium, with cows mooing, shifting and stamping, surrounded by the household and farmhands, smiling and pointing, chattering and commenting, all waiting to assist in moving the new herd down to the new cattle barn.

Which, Catriona recalled, had been built large enough to hold them.

But first, by vale tradition, they had to be named. McArdle, by right of being the oldest man in the vale, named the bull Henry. Irons declared one of the yearlings was Rupert; Henderson named the other Oswald. The women deferred to their offspring, and thus were born Rose and Misty, Wobbles and Goldy. Tom frowned and bit his lip, then named his cow Checkers.

And so it went on; called on to approve each and every name, Catriona nodded and smiled and laughed. But her senses were elsewhere, trying, through the noise and bustle, to keep track of Richard. He'd dismounted, but she could no longer see his dark head.

To her right, she was distantly aware of Devil strolling up the steps and being pounced on by Honoria. In accents only a duchess could command, her sister-in-law inquired where they'd been. Devil merely grinned. His gaze intent, he turned her and, deftly blocking her attempts to do otherwise, herded her into the house-all further discussion to be undertaken in private. If he gave her an answer, Catriona didn't hear it.

Behind her, to one side, the Dowager was in earnest discussion with McArdle, gesturing at the herd and asking questions. With a frustrated humph, Patience picked up her skirts and darted down the steps. Vane, handing his reins to one of the grooms, turned as she hurried up. Reaching out, he helped her forward when she would have stopped, one arm sliding around her as he turned her and smoothly guided her toward the gardens.

From her manner, Patience was scolding; from his, Vane wasn't listening.

Brows lifting resignedly, Catriona straightened and scanned the courtyard again. With the cows all named, McAlvie was preparing to move them around the house and down to the barn. People were milling everywhere, but she could usually see Richard easily-he was taller than any of her people. But no dark head stood out. Hands rising to her hips, a frown forming in her eyes, an emptiness in her heart, Catriona reached out with her senses-a talent she rarely used as it disturbed those, like Cook, who had latent talent of their own.

Richard was not in the courtyard in front of her.

"Do you approve of your wedding present?"

The deep purr in her ear, the touch of his breath on the sensitive skin of her temple, came simultaneously with the possessive slide of his hand splaying across her waist and belly. She started, then stilled. He held her, and their child, against him for an instant; she felt his strength envelop her. For one blissful moment, she closed her eyes and let herself slide into it, then his hand slid to her hip and he turned her.

Her eyes snapped open. "Wedding present?"

He was grinning. "I didn't give you one, remember?" The light in his eyes was victorious, triumphant. "I couldn't think what to get you." His gaze softened. "A witch who considers an escort to her prayers as precious as diamonds." Smiling, he tapped her nose with one finger. "It was a challenge-to find something you'd truly appreciate."

A shadow fell across his face; Catriona realized that, with his arm about her waist, he'd steered her back into the front hall.

"You bought me a bull as a wedding present?" She wasn't at all sure she believed that-the herd he'd driven in was worth a small fortune, was probably worth even more than she estimated. The vale could not have afforded that sort of addition to its ailing herd. A fact her husband knew.

"Not just the bull-I bought the whole herd." He looked at her innocently. "Don't you like Henry?"

Catriona smothered a snort. "I daresay he's a very good bull."

"Oh, an excellent bull-I have guarantees and glowing references as to his performance."

His lips were very definitely not straight. The front hall was empty-from outside, a cheer went up as the new herd started their last amble to their new home. Richard's lips curved more definitely, more devilishly; his arm about her tightened. "Why don't we adjourn to our room? I can explain the finer points of Henry's reputation, and you can give me your opinion."

"My opinion?" Arching one brow, Catriona met his glowing gaze. Her feet, of their own accord, were carrying her toward the stairs.

"Your opinion-and, perhaps, a token or two of your affection-your appreciation." His smile had turned devilish with salacious anticipation. "Just to reassure me that you really do like Henry."

Catriona looked into his eyes-the sounds of the crowd walking the new herd to the barn were fading in the distance. She could imagine how victorious their progress up the vale had been-she'd seen any number of workers from the farms among the crowd. And the manor folk had given them a rousing welcome-a hero's welcome. The look in Richard's eyes-the same look she'd glimpsed briefly in Devil's and Vane's-suggested they were expecting a similar welcome from their wives.

Her gaze locked on his, as they reached the top of the stairs, she smiled. Finding his hand, she twined her fingers with his, then, her own eyes alight, she slid her gaze from his and turned toward their chamber. "Come, then-and I'll consider your reward."

He deserved it.

Later, after having overseen his bath and shared a dinner fit for a conqueror which, to her amazement, had arrived without explanation on a tray, Catriona rewarded her husband thoroughly, an exercise that left her totally naked, totally drained, slumped, facedown and boneless, amid the rumpled sheets of their bed.

Much later, she mumbled: "Where did you go?"

Sprawled, similarly naked, beside her, Richard glanced at her face. She hadn't yet opened her eyes, not since he'd shut them for her. He settled back on the pillows and enjoyed the sight-of her luscious ivory back and bottom delectably displayed alongside him. "Hexham."

"Hexham?" A frown tangled Catriona's brows. "That's in England."

"I know."

"You mean those are English cattle?"

"The very best of English cattle. There's a breeder who lives outside Hexham-we went to visit him."

"Visit?"

Richard chuckled. "I have to admit it felt rather like olden times-raiders from the Lowlands sweeping south to steal cattle. Except, of course, that I paid for them." He considered, then his brows quirked. "Mind you, I'm not sure Mr. Scroggs won't decide we've stolen them anyway-we got them at a very good price."

Catriona lifted her heavy head, and her heavy lids, and stared at him. "Why was that?"

Richard grinned. "Devil's inimitable ways. His presence here was too good an opportunity to pass up-he's a master at negotiating. He doesn't precisely lean on people-not physically-but they do tend to give ground. Rather unexpectedly, to them."

Catriona humphed and lowered her head back onto the tangled covers. "We weren't expecting you for another day-you said four in your note."

"Ah, yes." Noting the increasing strength in her voice, Richard's interest in their adventure waned. "We expected to get back today-one day to ride to Hexham, two days to drive the cattle back, but"-he slid down the bed, then swung up and straddled her knees-"we thought if we said four days rather than three, you'd worry less." Sliding his palms along her thighs, he gripped her hips and gently flipped her onto her back. "Or," he said, sitting back on his ankles, his hot gaze roving her delectable nakedness, "at least, not yet have whipped yourselves into a righteous frenzy when we got back on the third day."

So sated she could not tense a single muscle, Catriona lay on her back and stared up at him. "You purposely told us four days, so we wouldn't be prepared to… to deal with you as you deserved-"

A swift grin cut off her words; he swooped down and kissed her. "We wanted to surprise you."

For more reasons than one, Catriona knew, but as he kissed her lingeringly again, and eased his long body down over hers, she couldn't summon enough temper to care. He lay on her as they kissed, then eased to one side, lying half over her, half beside her, one dark, hair-dusted thigh wedged between hers.

Propped on one elbow, he turned his head and splayed his hand over her belly. Gently, he stroked, gauged. "Have you told them yet?"

Her gaze on his face, Catriona shook her head. "I… wanted to wait a little-we haven't had time-"

"I haven't said anything, either." His hand resting heavy over where their child grew, secure within her womb, he turned his head and met her gaze. "I want to think about it-see how things settle-how it feels, if it… fits."

He looked back at his hand; Catriona studied his face, dark planes gilded by the firelight. Then she raised a hand and gently smoothed back the lock of hair that always fell over his forehead. He looked back at her, she smiled into his eyes. "It fits." Her heart swelling, she held his gaze. "You, me, our child, the manor, the vale-we all fit."

For one long instant, she was lost in the blue-the blue of summer skies over Merrick's high head. Then she smiled, mistily, and traced his cheek. "This is how it's meant to be."

Her gaze had dropped to his lips; half-lifting her head, she rose-he bent his head and their lips met, in a kiss so achingly tender, so honest, so vulnerable, there were tears in her eyes when it ended.

He looked down at her for a moment, then his lips kicked up at the ends. "Come show me." Drawing back, he sat on his haunches and pulled her up to her knees.

"Show you what?" Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder as he swung her about so her back was to him.

His eyes burned, his grin grew wicked as he drew her back, sliding her knees outside of his, drawing her bottom against his ridged abdomen. "Show me how things fit."

He needed little instruction on that point; hot and hard, he pressed into her. Her body flowered and opened for him, she gave a soft sigh as he slid fully home.

He settled her, her thighs over his, her bottom wedged against his hips. Impaled upon him, with his chest against her back and his steely arms around her, she was open and vulnerable; her breasts, her belly, the springy curls at its base, the soft inner surfaces of her thighs, already taut, were his to stroke and fondle, to caress as he willed.

And he willed.

Held almost upright, she couldn't rise much upon him, instead, buried deep within her, he rocked. Slowly, languorously.

Catriona bit her lip against a groan as his fingers tightened about her budded nipples and she felt him surge slowly within her.

Then he chuckled; fingers gripping her hips, he lifted her a little, then slowly thrust upward and filled her Catriona shivered.

"I was just thinking…" he murmured.

Flicking a glance over her shoulder, she saw him looking down as he lifted her slightly again.

"We can't risk telling anyone out news yet."

He filled her; Catriona dragged in a desperate breath. "Why not?"

"Because if Maman finds out, she might not leave." He drew her fully down and rolled his hips beneath her. He reached for her breasts. "And much as I love her, having Helena about for any appreciable time would try the patience of a saint."

He filled his palms and kneaded.

"Devil seems to manage."

"She doesn't fuss about him."

He started to rock her again, a tantalizingly slow ride. His hands drifted over her skin and she heated, and grew hotter. Grew wilder.

She hadn't yet got used to his manner of loving, of the slow, relentless giving, the gradual, inexorable rise toward bliss. If she tried to run ahead, he would hold her back, prolong the delicious torture until she was all but beyond herself-until, when he let her fly free, she screamed.

She'd had trouble with those screams from the first. She'd tried to muffle them, tried to suppress them, tried to at least keep them within bounds-keep them from disturbing the household. He didn't seem to care-but then, as Helena would say, he was a man.

The thought focused her mind on the evidence of that, on the thick, heavy, rigid reality filling her, stretching her, completing her-she felt excitement fuse, felt the thrill shimmer and grow.

Desperately, she opened her eyes and focused-on her dressing table across the room. In the mirror, lit only by the weak light of the fire, she saw him, a dark presence in the shadows behind her, saw her body lift rhythmically in his embrace, saw his body coil and flex, driving hers.

Upward. Onward. Into that realm of pleasure where the physical and emotional and spiritual merged.

But he kept their journey to a rigidly slow pace.

Dragging in a breath, her senses at full stretch, her wits all but scattered, she sought for some distraction-something to help her survive the slow disintegration of her senses. "Your nickname."

"Hmm?"

He wasn't listening.

"Scandal," she gasped. She'd heard Devil, Vane and Gabriel all use it to his face, although naturally, all the ladies called him Richard. Clutching the arm wrapped across her hips, she let her head tall back and licked her dry lips. "How did you come by it?"

She'd wanted to know since first she'd heard it.

"Why do you want to know?" There was a touch of amusement in his voice-a teasing hit.

Why? "Because we might go to London. In the circumstances, I think I have a right to know."

"You never leave the vale."

"But you might have to go south for some reason."

After a moment, he chuckled. His steady rocking penetration had not faltered. "It's not what you think."

"Oh?" She was clinging to sanity by her fingernails.

"Devil coined the tag-it wasn't because I cause scandal, but because I was: 'A Scandal That Never Was'."

Her wits were reeling, her senses fracturing-beneath her heated skin, her nerves had stretched taut. As if he understood, he nuzzled net ear. "Because of Helena's actions in claiming me as hers, I was a scandal that never eventuated."

"Oh." She breathed the syllable-it shattered in the warm stillness as she gasped. And tightened, every muscle coiling.

He bent her forward, drove deeply into her-and sent her flying, tumbling over the edge of the world.

Richard held her before him, heard her scream-listened to it die to a sob. He held still-briefly-buried within her, savoring the strong ripples of her release, then let go his own reins, let his body have its way, and followed her into ecstasy.

By the time she joined the breakfast table the next morning, Catriona was a walking testament to the fact that three days spent primarily out of doors had completely restored Richard's strength.

There was nothing wrong with his stamina; she could swear to that on The Lady's name.

A fact apparently so obvious, no one needed to ask, all the Cynsters were busy with their preparations to leave.

If anything, their leaving created even more commotion than their arrival.

Two hours later, standing on the steps, ready to wave them off, Catriona turned as the Dowager came bustling out, lecturing McArdle to the last.

"Once down to the cattle barn and back at least once a day-I will check in my letters to see that you are doing it."

McArdle's assurance that he wouldn't forget was lost in the clatter as Vane's elegant carriage, drawn by matched greys, came rattling around the house to join the Dowager's carriage and the ducal equipage, both already waiting on the cobbles.

Devil and Honoria had already taken then leave; Richard stood beside Devil as he handed Honoria into their carriage, then, with a last word to Richard, and a last rakish smile and a wave to Catriona, Devil climbed up and Richard shut the door. He paused for a moment, watching Gabriel hand the twins into the Dowager's carriage. His horse tied to the carriage's back, Gabriel would travel with them to Somersham, then escort the twins back to London.

Vane and Patience were heading for London, too, but they would stop at Somersham first to allow Patience to rest before joining Vane's family in the capital. Richard returned Patience's wave as Vane handed her into the carriage; with a salute, Vane followed her in.

A groom shut the door-others scurried around checking straps and harness. Smiling, Richard strolled back to the front steps. He arrived to see Helena release Catriona from one of her extravagant embraces.

"You must promise me you will visit in summer." Clinging to Catriona's hands, Helena looked into her eyes. "The Season, I can understand, might be difficult and not to your liking, but in summer, you must come." She shook Catriona's hands. "You have not been part of a big family before-there is much you yet need to learn."

Catriona saw the worry in Helena's fine eyes; smiling serenely, she leaned forward and touched cheeks. "Of course, we'll come. Exactly when"-she drew one hand free and gestured-"is in the lap of The Lady, but we will come, you may be sure."

Helena searched her eyes briefly, then beamed. "Bon! It is good." With that, she pressed Catriona's hand and turned to her second son. "Come-you may lead me to my carriage."

Surprised by his wife's promise, Richard masked his concern and suavely offered his arm.

Helena took it, he led her down the steps and over the cobbles to where Gabriel and the twins were waiting. With a last hug, and a last cling, Helena let him go; accepting Gabriel's hand, she climbed into the carriage. Gabriel followed and Richard shut the door. Helena leaned out of the window as Catriona, who had strolled in their wake, linked her arm with Richard's.

"You will not forget!" Helena wagged a finger at Catriona.

Who laughed. "I won't. June-July-who knows? But sometime in summer."

"Good." Helena beamed her brilliant smile and sat back. The coachman cracked his whip.

"Farewell!"

"Safe journey!"

The carriages rolled smoothly out, the ducal carriage in the lead, followed by the Dowager's with Vane and Patience's carriage bringing up the rear. The grooms and outriders rode alongside, all in the ducal livery. It was a scene from a pageant, a sight the vale had never seen before; the manor household lined the courtyard and the drive, waving their unexpected but very welcome visitors on their way.

Catriona watched them go, waving until the drive dipped and they were lost to view, conscious of a sadness of a type she'd never felt before. She didn't try to push it from her-this was one of the things she needed to learn. Pensive, smiling rather mistily, she let Richard turn her; arm in arm, they strolled back to the house.

She felt his gaze on her face as they climbed the steps. At the top, he halted; looking up, she met his gaze and found it serious and concerned.

He hesitated, then asked: "Did you mean what you said about going to London?"

"Yes." She smiled reassuringly. "I don't intend to let Helena down."

"But…" He frowned. "I thought you never left the vale-or at least, only under legal edict."

"Ah, well." Her smile deepening, she tried to find words in which to explain something he'd never stopped to think about, something he'd known all his life. Even more, to explain that through the evil of his poisoning, good had come-that having his family here had opened many doors into the future. Not just for the vale, but for the two of them, too. Instead, after searching his eyes, she smiled, deliberately enigmatic, raising a hand, she traced his cheek, then stretched on her toes to plant a kiss by the side of his mouth. "Times change." Turning, she glanced toward the mouth of the vale, to where a collection of dark specks travelled down the road. And smiled. "It's time for the lady of the vale to learn about the wider world."

When the road curved, finally hiding the manor from view, Devil grinned and sat back. An instant later, he reached out an arm, drew his wife to him and kissed her soundly.

"What was that for?" Honoria asked, prepared to be suspicious. She didn't think she'd yet forgiven him for his three-day disappearance, but she couldn't entirely remember what she'd said the night before.

He grinned in unlikely innocence. "Just because."

The carriage jolted; he glanced out of the window. "Well, that's Scandal well settled."

"Hmmm." Honoria closed her eyes and settled against his shoulder. "She's just what he needs."

Devil gazed at the fields and woods beyond the window, then murmured: "This place is what he needs, too. She's given him a home, in the right place, at the right time."

A moment of silence ensued, then, in precisely the same tone, Honoria, her eyes still closed, murmured: "There are times when I could almost imagine you believed in fate."

Devil shot her a sideways glance, one she didn't see. Noting her closed eyes, he let his lips curve, then he looked out of the window-and let the question in her words pass unanswered.