“Oh, what a darling he is.” Lila smiled down at him. “He is so small!”
“He is, isn’t he?” Jo gazed down at her nephew, wondering what it would be like to have her own child one day with Decker.
A little boy with his bright-blue eyes. Or a girl with his soft, wavy hair. He was no longer holding any part of himself back from her, and she was heartily glad. Thankful, too, for how far they had come.
Jo tore herself away from her nephew, a new eagerness for a child of her own fluttering to life inside her, and seated herself. They settled into a comfortable chat, Lila cooing over Arthur, and Julian and Clara politely inquiring after Jo, Decker, and Lila.
“How do you care for London, Miss Decker?” Clara asked Lila.
“I like it far better than I expected to,” the girl said, smiling at Jo. “I am fortunate indeed to have a new sister to help me find my footing here.”
“And I consider myself fortunate as well,” Jo told her with a wink. “It was dreadfully boring here with no one to keep me company save your brother.”
“Our Jo is one of the very best sorts,” Julian said, giving Jo a tender, brotherly smile.
Jo smiled right back at him, yet another weight removed from her shoulders now that he seemed to have finally accepted her marriage to Decker. “I learned from one of the best himself.”
“Do I know the fellow?” Julian asked with his signature wit, his smile turning into a grin.
“I would like to offer my opinion on the matter.” Decker strode into the room abruptly, handsome as ever. His gaze met Jo’s as he crossed the Axminster, and she felt an answering tug low in her belly. “I think our Josie is the best.”
Jo’s heart gave a pang at the sight of her husband, his expression filled with so much love, she felt her cheeks heat anew. She rather thought he was, too.
“You are home early again,” she observed, pleased.
His work days no longer began so early nor ended as late as they once had. It was yet another of the changes which had been slowly wrought over the last few weeks.
He raised a dark brow at her. “Are you displeased, Mrs. Decker?”
“On the contrary.” She could hardly contain her contentment. She was fairly certain she glowed. “I could not be more pleased.”
“Ah, young love,” Julian drawled wryly.
Jo’s cheeks flushed deeper, she was sure of it. But she could not take her eyes from the man she loved. Her husband, her heart, her other half. To think, all she had needed to do to find him was pen a wicked list and unintentionally deliver it to him.
Decker seated himself at her side. “You look happy, darling wife,” he murmured to her, sotto voce.
“That is because I am,” she said.
Clara sighed.
Julian snorted.
Lila continued to coo at baby Arthur.
At her side, her husband’s hand found hers hidden in the voluminous fall of her skirts. Their fingers tangled and held.
“Mrs. Decker is here tae see ye, sir,” Macfie announced, waggling his brows in a fashion that made them appear extra bushy this afternoon. “And she has yer sister with her again. May I say, sir, she is a wee adorable thing, Miss Lila. I cannae see any resemblance at all tae ye. Probably best, considering yer one of the—”
“That is quite enough, Macfie,” Decker interrupted his impudent aide-de-camp before he finished insulting Decker’s appearance.
Macfie raised a meaty hand to his heart, affecting an indignant pose that was rendered all the more hilarious by the fact that he was as massive as an old oak tree. “Always with the interruptions, sir. I was going tae say considering yer one of the most handsome men in all London. Wee Miss Decker cannae be looking handsome now, can she?”
“You had better stop lest I think you fancy me yourself.” Decker suppressed his smile. “And whilst I could not blame you in the slightest, I am already a picked apple, as they say. See them in, Macfie.”
“And a happily picked apple at that, sir.” Macfie grinned. “I am happy tae see ye so contented, Mr. Decker. And if I may say so, it is about damned time. All it took was a lady with a pair of—”
“Bloody hell, man, send my wife and sister in,” he bellowed.
“I was going tae say a pair of hands strong enough fer the task of bringing ye tae heel.” Rolling his eyes heavenward as if in supplication, Macfie