Page 23 of An Earl, His Valet, & Their Wife

Christ, he must have gallons to give. Gerry had been so loving and affectionate, bestowing kisses and embraces and hair stroking…but nothing more. A situation both heaven and hell to ensure Michael was primed and ready to breed his countess.

“Matters are progressing rather well,” Michael replied quickly as he poured two glasses of lemonade and sat down on the neatly manicured lawn beside his mother. “Better than I hoped.”

Barbara smiled, her relief obvious. “I’m very glad to hear that. Marriage to a stranger is never easy, especially when, well, you care for someone else. And Hunter? This must be difficult for him also.”

Michael hesitated. “Gerry has been nothing but supportive.”

Especially with his stern commands on how to pleasure my wife.

But would Gerry agree to do that again? Everything had gone so smoothly with his valet present. He’d actually felt confident. At ease. Able to concentrate on making Katherine come rather than all the things that could possibly go wrong. And when Gerry had held Katherine’s hand as she’d orgasmed…it had felt like a group effort. As though three were required for the plan to succeed.

What will I do if Gerry doesn’t want to take part in future?

Michael took a huge gulp of lemonade as perspiration broke out on the back of his neck. He would beg. No shame in that.

“Hunter is being very sporting,” said Barbara approvingly. “I appreciate that he’s not making a fuss; just like wellborn ladies, sometimes one must bite the tongue, shut the eyes, and remember that this, too, shall pass. The reward will arrive in the form of a sweet babe, just like it did for me. However, I will add, it was the strength and patience of my childhood playmate Uffy that helped me through. Marriage to your father was a dark, dark time. But Uffy…he is my safe harbor. A rainbow after the storm. And even after twenty years, my toes still curl when he kisses me. I’m glad you have Hunter at your side to navigate this.”

“I couldn’t do it without him,” said Michael softly.

“Katherine is settling in well? No unexpected visits from Lady Queenhill? The marchioness is a force of nature, although I daresay one must be to successfully secure the future of four daughters.”

He laughed. “She is indeed forceful. The household is under strict instructions that Lady Whitmore is forever out and about. But I believe with my library, a new maid and a new wardrobe to come, Katherine is enjoying life as a countess. Gerry convinced Madame Odette to make a personal call.”

“What?” said his mother grumpily, thumping down her empty lemonade glass. “Getting an appointment at La Odette’s salon is already more difficult than an audience with the queen. And she came to you? Bah. I am thoroughly envious. I don’t know how Hunter conjures such miracles.”

“Because he’s Gerry, and that’s what Gerry does. But he is at present conjuring another miracle…a ball. Specifically, a ball to celebrate my marriage. You and Uffy will be invited, of course.”

Barbara sniffed. “I should hope so. Although, I do know all the hidden entrances to Ellis House and am quite prepared to climb a tree or crawl through a tunnel. It will be the ball of the year, I can feel it in my bones. Everyone will attend, if only to confirm the devastating news that the Earl of Whitmore is officially leg-shackled. Oh dear. Poor Devonshire will be particularly devastated. I think he rather liked having another exceedingly eligible bachelor to share the burden with. The target on his back just doubled.”

Michael nodded slowly. He had every sympathy for the duke, who had endured a rather chaotic upbringing and inherited his title aged just twenty-one. Everyone expected Devonshire to marry and continue the line, but from various conversations they’d had, it didn’t seem nearly as clear-cut as the ton mothers hoped. With so much continued nonsense, it would be utterly unsurprising if he shunned marriage entirely. “Everyone should leave the duke alone. I will send him an invitation, with a note stating Katherine and I will not be at all offended if he would rather putter about in his greenhouse.”

“Speaking of invitations—and other ball-related things, have you settled on colors? I should not like my gown to look as though I raided the decoration box for leftover fabric.”

He chuckled. “Heaven forfend. Well, Katherine’s favorite is sapphire blue, so that’s what she’ll be wearing, and Gerry is organizing complementary hues. White and gray and silver. I’ll wear a matching waistcoat. Everyone who attends will know we are as one.”

“Will Hunter be officially attending?” asked his mother cautiously.

And there it was, a question he didn’t know the answer to. While Gerry had attended many house parties and balls as a valet, he’d never been a guest. It had forever been a minor conflict between them; him wanting to lift Gerry up, and Gerry insisting that ton events were no place for a grumpy, blunt-tongued Glaswegian. That didn’t stop Michael daydreaming about an occasion where they stood shoulder to shoulder in the receiving line, welcoming people into their home. Could this impending ball recognize more than just his marriage, be a celebration of love in all its forms?

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. I wish he would, but Gerry will probably say I’m being daft. He takes his valet duties very seriously. I hate hiding how I feel because a certain section of the population will crush their pearls to powder. You evolved in your thinking. They could also.”

His mother sighed and adjusted her bonnet. “I evolved because I love you and want you to be happy, and Hunter makes you happy. Lord knows there is enough hate and cruelty in the world, I would not dream of adding to it. But darling, you must consider Hunter’s wishes. And Katherine’s. There are people who will make their lives miserable, and neither deserve that.”

“Like Nero,” he replied, both angry and frustrated at the world they lived in, which offered such freedom in some ways and was a rigid cage in others.

Barbara shuddered. “He reminds me so much of your father, I can scarcely tolerate being in the same room as him. And Horatia, the spiteful cat. The sooner they are out of the title line, the better.”

Michael looked away, his cheeks heating once more. “We are trying, Mama. I promise.”

She patted his arm. “Good. Now, my son, I shall drink more lemonade while you finish weeding. You wouldn’t want me over-exerting myself!”

Michael groaned at the mischievous twinkle in her eye and reluctantly donned a glove. Mothers. Not even earls were safe from their trickery.

* * *

Now that Katie’s new bedchamber shelves were constructed, sanded, and polished, it was time to fill them with her favorite kind of gothic books. The darker the better.

Gerard smiled to himself as he carried the heavy wrapped parcel up the stairs toward her chamber. Most of the Minerva Press titles had been fairly easy to come by, but another, the scandalous bestseller taking English society by storm since its May release, had required a few favors to track down. He just hoped Katie liked the gifts, for that was his favorite part of the process with Michael: the moment his earl’s face lit up like a fireworks display at Vauxhall, and he knew he’d chosen correctly.