“I thought I was.” He took in a deep breath and then let it ease out. “This house party is so important, though.” How could he make her understand that repairing his family—the whole Storme line—was paramount to his success as earl?
Sarah crossed the room until she’d closed the distance between them. As always when she was near, his anxiety melted to the background. Her form was still as trim as it had been when they’d married, with the exception of her swollen belly that hadn’t yet become too unwieldy. “I know it is. You’ve worked tirelessly to bring this about.” When he nodded, she snaked her arms around his middle and hugged him.
The orange blossom scent she favored wafted around him and brought yet another measure of calm. It recalled the summer days when they’d worked out their differences last summer and let love bloom between them. “I think, Sarah, you’re the only one who will ever accept me as I am. Flaws and all.”
“Isn’t that what a wife is supposed to do? But though you’re flawed, you’ve come such a long way since I married you.” She murmured a few words into his ear that never failed to soothe his troubled spirit. He would have been completely lost to a storm of his own making if not for her. “They’ll come—all of them. Please don’t worry yourself sick.”
“I’m trying.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. When they’d met, she was a governess for her great uncle, who happened to be his closest neighbor in Derbyshire, and she’d captivated him with her tart mouth and her unwillingness to back down or let herself be cowed by his temper. “Lord knows I’m trying. Every day.” Working to contain and channel that anger and anxiety into productive endeavors was an ongoing fight, but it was easier with her by his side.
Sarah pulled slightly away and peered into his face. “If most of them won’t come, perhaps William will. I suspect he’s the one you’re particularly worried about.” She lifted a hand and fussed with his hair. “The more you worry, the more silver your hair contains.”
“Leave off, woman,” he growled, but he softened the order with a grin. Life was easy with her. She had a knack for accepting things as they were instead of banking on the hope of how she’d like them to be. He continued in his struggle to learn that rick. “I’m worried about them, Caroline in particular.” A hot tide of anger welled in his chest. “How dare Uncle George think the best place for her was an institution? To say nothing of Father, who undoubtedly went along with the decision.”
“Calm yourself, Andrew.” She cupped his cheek, lifted on her toes, and pressed her lips to his in an effort to do just that.
“To say nothing of what he let his children become,” he continued despite the twin threads of desire and needing twisting down his spine. “Hell, Isobel is a hoyden without hopes of being tamed into a proper lady, and William? From all accounts, he cares nothing about anything except his damned career.”
“That’s not your path to walk.” Again, Sarah kissed him, and this time there was more insistence to the gesture.
He gave up his line of thought in favor of returning her overture, and with a stifled groan, he settled her more comfortably in his arms. For the next few minutes, he treated her to long, drugging kisses he hoped would convey his undying regard for her. The softness of her lips as they met his, the way she looped her arms about his shoulders to hold him close, the heat of her beneath his hands as he let his fingers explore all worked at seeing him undone. Worry faded from his being the longer he communed with her sans words.
Eventually, she pushed out of his embrace and set her spectacles back into place on the bridge of her nose. They’d come askew, like they always did during the more passionate kisses. “I, for one, am looking forward to Christmastide and Twelfth Night festivities. From everything you’ve already shared, the estate and its tenants will be alive with joy.”
Drew grinned even as his hardened length pressed painfully against the front of his trousers. Thank God his mother had quit the room, else embarrassment would be his lot. “I wished to play into nostalgia this year, for I’ve neglected the title since I took it.” He paused, staring at his wife and once more thanking heaven he’d won her. “I want a return of the last Christmas my brothers and I spent here as children, when my father was strong in his health and he lived to make the tenants happy.”
“There will be a large feast and mummers?” Excitement sparkled in her eyes.
“Oh yes. Plus dancing and bonfires and music. To say nothing of the permission I granted a traveling band of Romani to camp on the estate for the duration of the holidays. They’ll have no doubt planned a winter fair of sorts. If all goes well, there will be gladness had by all.”
“And it will further endear you to the tenants.”
“We can only hope.” He glanced at the window. The snow hadn’t let up. “If we’re not buried by this evening. The entertainment begins tomorrow night.”
“Again, that is not under your control. Enjoy what comes and toss out the rest.” She moved to the fireplace and held her hands out to its warmth. “It’s a pity I can’t indulge in sledding or ice-skating this season. I do so enjoy those activities.”
“I remember the times when Father’s favorite fishing pond froze over. We spent many a day skating and building snow forts upon the ice and around the pond.” He blew out a breath. “Even then, Finn and Brand had an affinity for military endeavors.”
“And you, no doubt, were forever telling them they built forts wrong or didn’t throw snowballs in correct form.” She chuckled and when she smiled, the delicate skin at the corners of her eyes crinkled with mirth. “What I wouldn’t give to have observed you all those years ago.”
“Perhaps we can capture at least the feeling of those times, when everything was good, and I never knew the rigors of taking up the title… or in seeing the division that scattered the Storme family.”
“I certainly hope so.” Sarah returned to contemplating the cheerful fire that crackled and danced behind the grate. “All will be well, and if it’s not, then you’ll make the best of it with your brothers. That’s more progress than you had when I met you.” She pulled the shawl tighter about her person. “If Finn and Brand don’t deign to come, you and I will still have a lovely time, and if you truly wish to boss someone, perhaps you should encourage your mother to find love again.”
Drew snorted. “Would Mother even wish to be matched after all this time?”
“You won’t know unless you broach the subject with her. She’s certainly popular within the ton. I expect country society to act in the same way.”
“True, and it has been an age since she was last in Derbyshire. Let me think on the issue.” He moved behind her and slid his hands around to cradle her growing belly. “I still can’t believe we’ll welcome a child into the world soon.” Because he couldn’t help it, he nuzzled the side of her neck, moving the shawl away to he could kiss more of her skin.
“Yes, in late April. A spring baby.” She lifted her chin to give him greater access. His Sarah was nothing if not responsive. “Oh Andrew, who would have thought life would be this wonderful after the horrid start you and I had?”
“Not I.” He laughed. When emotion overcame him, he buried his face in her hair. “I was utterly convinced you’d leave me due to my inability to conquer my anger or show any other emotion.”
“But you learned, and I stayed.” Sarah gasped and then put her hands over his. “The baby is moving, perhaps kicking.” She lightly pressed his right hand against her belly. “Do you feel it just here?”
To his surprise, her belly gently tapped against his palm. “Good heavens, is that truly the baby?”
“Yes. The little one seems to know your voice and is more active when you’re near.” The sound of her giggle went straight to his heart. That organ squeezed. “Perhaps it’s anxious to meet its father.”
“Ah, Sarah, would that I’m a better father than my own was.” For long moments he kept his hands on her belly. Another gentle bump to his palm sent quick tears into his eyes. “It humbles me knowing you ever consented to marry me. To think you’ll bear a child soon, a baby that might be my heir.” He shook his head. “I can scarcely wrap my mind around it most days.”
“That’s what love does.” She turned in his hold and put slid her hands up his chest. “It fixes things, makes a person change, gives them an opportunity to accept things and find joy.” The emotion reflected in her eyes behind the spectacle lenses. “And I do love you, Andrew.”
“I love you, too.” He kissed her, made love to her mouth until they both panted with a shared need. A slow grin took possession of his lips. “Can I help it if you’ve made me so happy that I want the same for all my family?” His thoughts turned once more to the imminent arrival of his guests, and whether or not the damned snow would hinder travel. “If they come.”
Sarah heaved a sigh. “You’re a good man. Never forget that, no matter what happens over Christmastide. Promise me.”
“I promise.” He drew her across the room to one of the windows that overlooked a winter-bare garden where fluffy snowflakes drifted down to cover dormant plant life. “This house party must work. It simply has to… for the sake of all the Stormes.”
There was no better time than Christmastide to mend the rift between family members, regardless that it was an uphill climb.