Page 16 of The Best Marquess

Yet his chest looked so firm.

Eventually, like a battered ship seeking safe harbor, she fell against him. Finn’s arms closed around her, and one hand began rubbing her aching back in a surprisingly soothing manner. Oh, this was nice. A minute. She would permit coddling for a minute, then they would never speak of it again. “My hand hurts,” she mumbled against his shoulder. “It got crushed. Not my reading hand at least, but it still hurts.”

“Oh dear. Let me look at it…Good God. Someone needs to inform Gabriel his wife is part lobster. Or vise. This needs to be bound with arnica at once.”

Pippa grunted, the only sound she could manage. A nap would be the most splendid reward in the world and Finn’s shoulder was precisely the required height for her head. Gabriel was too tall, but Finn was just right. And he had a pleasing scent about him. Not perfume or Sandalwood, but clean linen, some sort of herbal aftershave, and yes, caramels.

She snuggled closer and let out a slow breath. Finn really did have a splendid chest. Firm but not too firm. Was it smooth like some of the heroes in her novels, did he have a smattering of crisp hair, or a full pelt? It was hard to guess. His forearms weren’t especially hairy, but the hair on his head looked luxuriously thick and soft.

Perhaps she should settle him on the chaise, slide a hand under his waistcoat and cravat, undo the single button that fastened his fine linen shirt, and set to work finding out. Most novels implied that a bronzed, smooth chest was best, but in The Highland Marauder, the fiery Frenchwoman loved the rasp of the reclusive laird’s chest hair against her aching nipples. She could try that. Some fabric pushed aside, a single button undone, and a thorough exploration could begin. Then he could lift her gown and do some exploring of his own…

Pippa jerked back from Finn. Clearly the day’s events; a dash to Grosvenor Square followed by Amanda’s birth had completely addled her mind. Right now, she was acting as foolish as the Regiment who followed Finn around like a row of ducklings whenever he was out and about. “Forgive me. I think I almost fell asleep standing up.”

He smiled, but his gaze remained wary. “That you snuffle is a secret I shall take to the grave. I can escort you home if you like. Don’t want you taking a hackney alone in your current state; you might end up in Scotland with a frightfully large bill.”

“Yes please. Best that I not arrive home in one of Gabriel’s carriages, then everyone will know where I’ve been and begin another magisterial interrogation in the library. The official announcement is certainly not mine to make.”

“Let’s leave the new parents in peace, then.”

Pippa poked her head around the bedchamber door to wave to Lilian and Gabriel, who were enduring a lecture from the physician. Gabriel was on the bed, one arm about Lilian’s shoulders and the other cradling his daughter, so could only wiggle his fingers. Lilian sleepily blew her a kiss. Then Pippa gratefully took Finn’s proffered arm and shuffled down the hallway. When they reached the staircase, the space was near-deserted now after being a hive of activity earlier. The servants she did see had rather odd expressions on their faces.

She came to an abrupt halt. “What on earth is wrong with them all? They do realize Gabriel and Lilian are delighted to have a daughter?”

Finn scowled. “Many noblemen are complete arses about baby girls. But they are wonderful and precious…er, I’m sure the message will get to the servants shortly, especially when they see how happy their duke is.”

Pippa chewed her lip in confusion as they descended the staircase. While she already knew that despite his rakish reputation Finn treated ladies very well, she’d never heard him speak so fervently about babies before. It seemed a bit soon to feel that way about Amanda; he’d not even seen her. And Finn didn’t have any brothers or sisters, or cousins for that matter, for both his parents were only children themselves.

How odd.

Unless…he had a daughter?

Her whole body rejected the thought. No. She and Finn always told each other everything. They always had. There was no way he would keep a secret baby hidden.

He didn’t tell you about his pleasure toy business…

Shuddering, Pippa mentally slapped herself. Now she was just being ridiculous, for he had explained that. After a nap and an enormous slice of cake, she would feel better.

Besides, when her mind wasn’t so foggy, they had to prepare for the grand betrothal reveal at Grandmother’s soiree. No doubt that, on top of everything else, was affecting her usually robust and logical thought process.

Once they got that out of the way, all would be well.

Chapter 4

When a man had matters of the heart pressing on his shoulders and muddying his mind, there was only one thing to be done.

Eat his weight in chewy caramels.

Finn pushed open the door of his favorite Bond Street confectioner and walked inside. It was not only warm and brightly lit, but a range of delicious scents like burnt sugar, bitter chocolate, and sharp citrus surrounded him like a beloved friend’s embrace. The confectioner’s assistant called out a cheerful greeting then ushered him to a well-padded leather chaise to wait.

“Your usual order, Lord Knighton?”

“Please,” he replied.

It fascinated him each time, watching the lad carefully scoop a pile of golden caramels into a large paper bag then secure it with an elegant knot of twine. Next, he took a small paper bag and added a penny’s worth of marzipan plus a few extra on top, then decorated it with a short length of narrow pink ribbon—Miss Wabbit’s current color du jour—for Nessie. The young man performed his duties with the gravity and precision of a surgeon yet all the flair of a florist, and Finn was always tempted to offer him a job at Golden Square. But that would cut off his caramel supply, truly the best in London, so he held his tongue.

Under another glass-topped counter, a display of intricately iced gingerbread cottages each with a tiny marzipan vegetable garden caught his eye, and he whistled in admiration. Confectioners were so damned clever; it almost seemed a crime to eat their creations. Except they tasted so good, it would be a worse crime not to eat them.

And sweets were definitely required to lighten his mood.