O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,263

Papa,” Amelia said.

“What did you promise your papa?” Alice asked.

Father and daughter exchanged glances, then Amelia puffed out her chest, as if in pride. “I promised to take care of you.”

“I’m pregnant,” Alice said, “not an invalid.”

Ross squeezed her hand. “Permit me this indulgence, my love.” His voice cracked a little, as it always did when he referred to her pregnancy. Doctor McIver had assured her that all was well, and little Harry had come into the world without a single mishap. But her husband could never shake off the fear that she might lose the child—or worse. To Alice, the horrors of her first marriage, and her lost babies, had faded to a long-distant memory. But Ross, having lost his first wife in childbirth, could never quite shake off the fear of losing a loved one, of the thought of Alice being in pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease it.

Alice interlocked her fingers with her husband’s. “All will be well, my love,” she said. “How could it not be, when I have the best husband in the world?” She lowered her voice to a whisper, casting a glance at Amelia, whose attention was focused on the dog at her feet. “And, tonight, I intend to show my husband just how much I love him.”

Ross curled his lip into a smile as a flare of lust ignited in his eyes. As her pregnancy had advanced, Alice’s need for him had grown into an intense ache deep within her. She smiled at his inventiveness as he sought more and more ways to bring her to pleasure, despite her increasing size. And last night, the first night at Pengarron after three days’ traveling, she’d been able to give free rein to her pleasures, screaming his name into the night, uninhibited by the fear that the other guests in the inns could hear their coupling.

Three days’ denial had only served to heighten her need and intensify the pleasure, and as she gazed into his eyes and saw the longing in their dark expression, she felt her blood warm at the prospect of a night’s lovemaking.

“You intend to show how much you love me, do you?” Ross said, a wicked glint in his eyes. “In that case…”

He broke off and looked up.

Hoofbeats approached outside, and the crunch of wheels on gravel. Amelia leapt to her feet and rushed toward the window.

“They’re here!” she cried.

Ross helped Alice to her feet and brushed his fingers along her cheek.

“It’s time to greet our guests,” he sighed. “But we shall resume our conversation later tonight.”

Chapter Three

Ross squeezed his wife’s hand as the carriage drew to a halt. She interlocked her fingers with his, and leaned against him. A shiver of delight rippled over his skin at the feel of her body against his and the anticipation of the night to come. Since announcing she was pregnant, his Alice had turned into a goddess—and an insatiable one at that. She was no longer the timid creature he’d wed, who had been terrified of the marriage bed.

The carriage door opened, and out stepped Ross’s old friend from Cambridge. A tall, stern-looking man with an imposing air, Earl Stiles fitted the role of magistrate perfectly. But Ross knew his friend had a heart of gold, and would move the earth to help a friend in need. Stiles reached inside the carriage and helped his wife out. Ross caught his breath at the sight of the countess. Frederica almost matched her husband in height. Tall, willowy and with flaming red hair, she could not fail to be noticed in London’s ballrooms. Here, in the middle of the Cornish countryside, she was like an exotic orchid, bringing a splash of color to the landscape.

“Alice!” Frederica cried out with joy, and Ross’s wife released his hand and approached her friend, arms outstretched.

“Frederica!” Alice exclaimed. The countess took Alice’s hands. “My dear, you look so well!” she said. “Pregnancy agrees with you.”

Stiles approached Ross, his hand outstretched. “Good to see you, Trelawney,” he said.

“How was your journey?” Ross asked.

Stiles arched an eyebrow. “A full day in a confined space, with my wife, and three children who’ve all inherited her strength of will. What do you think?”

Squeals of excitement burst from the carriage as a girl of Amelia’s age rushed out, holding a toddler’s hand, followed by an elderly woman dressed in a smart nursemaid’s uniform carrying a baby. Stiles rolled his eyes, and Ross let out a laugh. “You know full