Web of Love by Mary Balogh Page B

Alex? If we don’t go there soon, Caroline is going to be up, hungry as a bear, ready to start the day.”
    She got to her feet and turned into his arms. “She said that Mrs. Simpson is the daughter of the Countess of Harrowby,” she said. “Do you know her?”
    â€œI know of her,” he said, undoing the top button of her nightgown and moving his hands across her shoulders beneath it. “I know poor old Harrowby, of course. An alcoholic wreck, I’m afraid.”
    â€œMaisie made a point of saying that she did not say that Mrs. Simpson was the daughter of the Earl of Harrowby,” she said.
    â€œQuite likely, I’m afraid,” the earl said, undoing the second and third buttons of her nightgown so that he could open it back over her shoulders. “The lady has something of a spicy reputation.”
    â€œPoor Mrs. Simpson,” she said. “Maisie will slaughter her character if she can, you know.”
    â€œI believe she tried with you once, my love,” he said. “But I thwarted her by marrying you.”
    â€œThank you,” she said crossly. “We all know that without your generosity my reputation would have been in shreds forevermore. And do take that grin off your face.”
    â€œI love you when you are prickly,” he said. “And you know very well that you married me eventually quite of your own free will. Though Christopher might have found himself in a nasty situation if you had not.”
    â€œEdmund,” she said, catching at his wrists, “don’t do that until we are lying down, please. You know it always makes me weak at the knees.”
    â€œEasily remedied, my love,” he said, stooping down and swinging her up into his arms.

    E LLEN WAS LYING beside her husband, his arm beneath her head, as usual.
    â€œYou would not like to come?” she asked. “Tomorrow is a free day for you, Charlie, and the forest is said to be a beautiful place.”
    â€œI would as soon stay at home, lass,” he said, “unless you really want me to come. Is it asking too much to expect you to go about everywhere with Jennifer? I am very selfish, aren’t I? I’ll come, then. I’ll come with you, Ellen.”
    â€œNo.” She sighed and kissed his cheek. “You would hate every minute of it, and I would not enjoy myself at all. But it would have been pleasant, would it not, to have been at home together tomorrow? We could have taken a stroll in the park in the afternoon. But never mind. We will have the evening. The Slatterys have invited Jennifer to the theater, remember?”
    â€œMm,” he said. “That will be nice, sweetheart. Would you prefer that I took you out somewhere?”
    â€œNo,” she said. “I want one of our quiet evenings at home together, Charlie. Just you and me. Just like old times.”
    They lapsed into silence, and she was back in the ballroom, the music swirling in her head, the room spinning wildly about her. Noise and laughter, color and movement. The smell of a man’s cologne. She turned restlessly onto her side.
    â€œI’m cold,” she said when her husband opened his eyes and turned his head.
    â€œOn a warm night like this, lass?” he said. “Hey, you are shivering.” He rubbed his large hands over her back and pulled the blankets close about her. “Cuddle close, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.”
    â€œI love you, Charlie,” she said, burrowing her head beneath his chin and closing her eyes tightly. She spread her hands on his broad and warm chest. “I love you so very much. You do believe that, don’t you?”
    â€œOf course I believe it, lass,” he said, smoothing one hand over her hair. “And you know you are my treasure and always will be. Are you feeling warmer? Lift your face to me and let me kiss you.”
    She tipped back her head with an almost desperate eagerness and slid one arm up about his