Queen of my Hart - Emily Royal Page 0,67

earl was the first of the upper ton to bank with me.”

“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” she continued. “I couldn’t begin to compare to her in a ballroom.”

“Nonsense!” he said. “You’ll outshine them all in your new gowns.”

She blushed. “You’ve been far too generous, Dexter,” she said. “First the school, then the gowns…” She shook her head. “As for the pin money, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with it.”

That morning, he’d taken her to Madame Dupont’s and ordered three day dresses, three evening gowns, and a riding habit. Silencing his wife’s protests over the expense, he’d explained to the modiste that every whim should be catered to. Madame Dupont, with her easy charm and maternal nature, took Meggie under her wing, and soon, his little wife’s shyness had disappeared. The two women spent the morning chatting as if they were old friends, while Madame’s assistants took Meggie’s measurements. They were to return for a fitting in a week, and Dexter found himself looking forward to the simple pleasure of spending a morning in a shop with his wife.

His former self would have laughed at him for being a milksop. But he lifted her hand to his lips, not caring whether the other occupants of the park saw what a happy man he was.

“Your pin money is yours to spend as you wish,” he said.

“But I have everything I want. Can’t you keep it, then I’ll ask if I want money?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask,” he said. “But if you prefer, I can set it aside for you.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “After all, you’re a banker, so it makes sense for you to employ your skills at home. Perhaps you’ll grant me a little interest each quarter day.”

She smiled up at him, mischief twinkling in her eyes.

Yes, he was a very happy man, indeed.

A familiar couple appeared ahead—a diminutive lady, holding a small dog in her arms, blonde curls peeking out from beneath her bonnet, together with a tall man dressed in a smart light brown jacket and cream-colored breeches.

“Ah, the Pelhams,” Dexter said. “The very people I want you to meet. Mr. Pelham is a business associate. He’s responsible for that rather fine brandy we’ve been enjoying.”

His wife blushed, and his manhood twitched at the memory. Last night he’d brought a glass of brandy to bed and proceeded to shake droplets of the fiery liquid over his wife’s naked body before lapping them up with his tongue.

“I must ask Pelham to supply me with another bottle,” he said casually. “We’ll have exhausted our supplies in a week or so.”

“Dexter…” Her voice spoke of discomfort, but he could see she was aroused.

The Pelhams drew near, and she tightened her hold on him.

“Hart!” Pelham cried. “I knew it was you! I’d heard you were in town. Anne and I have been eager to call on you.”

“Then why haven’t you?” Dexter asked.

Anne Pelham glanced at Meggie, who appeared distressed.

“I thought it best if we give your lovely wife time to familiarize herself with London,” she said. “It can be a rather hostile environment if one doesn’t know who one’s friends are.”

“May I introduce my wife, Margaret,” Dexter said. He turned to Meggie. “My dear, this is Mr. and Mrs. Pelham.”

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” Mrs. Pelham said. “I was most sorry I missed you when I first called—just before you left for the country.”

Dexter’s wife stiffened, and Dexter recalled Charles’s account of the day Meggie had hidden behind the curtains to avoid visitors.

But Anne Pelham’s nature was capable of coaxing the most terrified mouse out of its nest. She offered her arm to Meggie.

“Shall we?” she asked. “If you would permit it, Mrs. Hart, I’d love to show you my favorite parts of the park. I’ve made it my mission to seek out those hidden little spots that are shunned by those who come to the park merely to show themselves off to the world. I suspect you’re a woman after my own heart.”

Meggie looked at Dexter and raised her eyebrows in question, and he smiled encouragement. Anne Pelham was just the sort of woman to put her at ease.

Meggie took the proffered arm, and the women set off ahead of the men.

“Fate has chosen well for you, my friend,” Pelham said. “I almost didn’t recognize you today. You were actually smiling.”

“I’ve been known to smile,” Dexter said.

Pelham scratched his chin in an exaggerated gesture. “Now let me see…” he hesitated, as if