The Taming of Ryder Cavanaugh (Cynster #20) - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,164

to Sligo, then with a fond kiss on each other’s cheeks, they parted, turning to follow their own paths, each returning to walk by the side of the hero into whose arms The Lady had steered them.

Across the crowd, Lucilla joined her twin; it had been Marcus who had hailed her. His was one voice, one call, she would always hear, would always answer, no matter the distractions, no matter the distance. Meeting his eyes, dark blue like their father’s, she arched a brow. “What is it?”

With a tip of his dark head, he drew her to the side of the lawn. Originally his hair had been as red as hers, but while hers had held its color, his had progressively darkened, almost to black. “We—me and the others—wondered if you and the other girls might like to join us for a stroll around the lake.”

“Why?” The obvious question.

Marcus flicked a glance at the crowd of their elders. “Sebastian suggested—and all of us agree—that perhaps we should make plans for Christmas. He and the others would like to celebrate this Christmas in the Vale—we haven’t had everyone up for an age. You know the elders will need persuading, but we thought, if you and the other girls agreed, we might talk it through—discuss strategy, as it were.”

Lucilla considered the prospect and found it to her liking. She nodded. “All right.” She turned to look over the crowd. “I’ll go and find Prudence and Antonia. We’ll meet you and the others at the summerhouse—we can set out from there.”

Marcus shifted. “You might want to winkle out some of the others, too—Therese and Juliet, at least—and, of course, if we want to succeed—”

“We’ll need Louisa.” Lucilla nodded more definitely. “I’ll find her first, and she can round up the others.”

With no further words—despite the years, they still understood each other instinctively—the twins parted, Lucilla fixing her sights on Louisa while Marcus retreated to summon his peers.

Five minutes later, Devil found his wife by the porch steps, her gaze fixed on the group of youngsters gathering before the summerhouse. Dipping his head, he murmured in her ear, “What’s that about, do you know?”

She gave a deliciously distracted shiver but after a second replied, “I’m not sure, but, given our three are there, and Louisa is at the heart of it, I’m sure we’ll hear soon enough.”

They watched as the group formed up, then started strolling, heading toward the lake.

Closing his hand about one of Honoria’s, Devil said, “They’re growing up. In another year, Sebastian will be down from Oxford, then a year later, Michael will join him, along with Christopher, and probably Marcus, too.”

Honoria glanced up at Devil’s harsh-featured face, a warrior’s face that had changed little with the years. Thought of her sons, especially the elder, who shared such similar features with his sire. “Have you given any thought as to how to keep Sebastian occupied for that first year—when he hasn’t got the others around him?”

“Filling his time will be easy enough—there’s a great deal he has yet to learn about managing the dukedom.” Devil glanced down and met her eyes. “And what it takes to manage a ducal family.”

Honoria smiled. “He won’t have to do that—his wife will. And until he marries, Louisa will always be there, just itching to take the reins.”

“True, but he needs to appreciate what it is they do.” Devil held her gaze. “What it is you, and the other ladies, too, bring to the family.”

Seeing that appreciation writ large in his eyes, Honoria discovered she couldn’t speak, that emotion had, for just a few seconds, closed her throat.

No doubt sensing that—and that she wouldn’t approve if he discombobulated her for too long—Devil’s lips curved and he looked ahead.

Released, she drew breath, then fell in beside him as, twining her arm with his, he led her back into the crowd.

They wended their way around their guests, their family, their close friends, exchanging comments and, often, looking ahead, prognosticating on the future.

Momentarily distracted by the sight of a laughing line of younger children dancing through the crowd, they were standing at the edge of the gathering, not far from the toddlers and infants in the nursemaid’s crèche, within sight of the cricket match on the side lawn, and the group of girls now making daisy-chains nearby, when the older children returned from their walk.

Both Devil and Honoria noticed, looked.

Took in the confident strides, the energy, the inherent power.

Devil smiled, every inch the proud patriarch. “That’s our future—the