Page 38 of The Baron’s Halo

“It doesn’t, really, but I do enjoy being able to share those moments just after we…do the deed and not wake up five minutes later to discover you are asleep, my love.” Isabelle pouted, her lips in a perfect position for kissing.

They made his dead member stir miraculously. “Well, I’m not asleep now, am I?” He rolled over, pinning her beneath him. “Shall we see if you can remain awake this time?”

Isabelle squealed, then pulled his head down for a kiss.

A sharp rap at the door froze them both. Groaning, Sandy hung his head. Of all the luck. “Bring the tea back in half an hour, Grant.”

“It’s a telegram just arrived, my lord. From London.” The butler’s muffled voice sounded concerned.

Isabelle went rigid beneath him and Sandy immediately rolled off her. He hopped to the floor. “A moment, please.”

Sandy padded to the chair, grabbed his robe and hastily tugged it on. “Do not concern yourself, my love.” He pulled his belt around the dressing gown. “It is likely nothing more than notification that one of my cousins is getting married. I’m assuming their hunts for wives are going on apace.”

The sight of Isabelle’s ashen face sent a thrill of anger through his body. Her stepfather’s presence was never far away it seemed. Sandy went to the door, ruminating that Captain Ambrose Grey needed to stay the hell out of Sandy’s bedroom. He paused, ran a hand through his hair, trying to make himself respectable, and opened the door.

Grant handed him the telegram. “Shall I bring the tea tray now, my lord?”

Sandy glanced back at his wife, covers pulled up over her head. “Yes, please. You might as well send breakfast up too, Grant. Has my mother risen yet? She must be exhausted from her journey yesterday.”

“Yes, my lord. Her ladyship breakfasted an hour ago and is now writing letters in the morning room. Shall I give her a message?”

Shaking his head, Sandy turned to Isabelle. “My mother is a complete marvel. Indefatigable.” Then to Grant. “No, there’s nothing at the moment. Tell Hobbes I won’t require him for another hour. Neither will Cooper be required until then.” If this telegram proved to be word about Captain Grey, he’d need time to reassure his wife.

“Very good, my lord.” Grant bowed and Sandy shut the door, gazing at the letter’s yellow envelope with trepidation. Grey had attempted to contact Isabelle several times since they had moved to Scotland. The first attempt, a letter in an innocent plain white envelope, had upset his wife so much Sandy had hesitated to give her the second one when it arrived two weeks later. Neither missive had said more than he missed his stepdaughter and wished to know when she’d next be in London.

Sandy dreaded the day a letter or telegram would arrive announcing the man himself was arriving in Carnwath to visit his stepdaughter. He doubted Isabelle would be able to gainsay him, especially if he brought her mother with him. Isabelle would be hard put to refuse such a visit, but Grey’s presence would absolutely terrify Sandy’s wife. He tapped the envelope against his other hand as he headed back to bed.

“What does it say?” The voice under the cover sounded apprehensive.

“Just a moment, love.” Gritting his teeth, Sandy pulled the single sheet out of the envelope and read it—then laughed out loud.

“What does it say?” Isabelle flung the covers off and sat up so suddenly her breasts bounced.

Distracted by that movement, Sandy licked his lips and jumped back into bed. “My cousin, Alex Bancroft, has made a wager—”

“Oh, for goodness sakes!” His wife flopped back onto the mattress. “How dare he frighten me so with a telegram about a silly wager?”

“Silly or not, my lady—” Sandy pounced on her, causing her to shriek, then laugh. “—the wager will call us to London in two weeks’ time.”

“Why do we need to go to London?” Isabelle sobered. “If I go, I’ll have to see Ambrose and my mother. They will know I’m in Town.”

“You don’t have to see your mother or stepfather ever again if you don’t want to, my love.”

Gazing up at him, she worried her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Sandy. He will find a way to see me.”

“Then simply don’t go, sweetheart.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Stay here in Scotland with Mother. I need to go to support Alexander—he’s fighting in a boxing match and the wagering will be sharp, I guarantee it. Quartermains always support one another.”

“Especially when wagering is a part of it, I suspect.” Isabelle glared at him.

“I will sorely miss your company, love, but I will understand if you can’t go.” After six weeks of wedded bliss and constant marital congress, he’d do more than just miss Isabelle. He’d pine every day for her, but he wouldn’t subject her to the strain of a possible meeting with that monster unless she wished it.

Isabelle clutched him to her fiercely, as though he might try to leave this minute. “No, Sandy. Where you go, I go. I don’t ever wish for us to be apart, my love. I’d miss you too terribly.”

“And I you.” He kissed her lips, ultimately glad that they would not have to be parted. “What about this? We will travel to London, but we won’t tell anyone save my cousin Julius. He requires an answer, but otherwise no one need know we will be in Town. I’m sorry you won’t be able to see your mother, but if you don’t wish a confrontation with Grey, it’s the only way.”

The captain was proving to be more of a thorn in Sandy’s side than he’d realized. While in London, he’d talk to his family and see what might be done to alleviate it. His grandfather had so many connections perhaps he would have an idea of how to deal with the man.

Smiling, Sandy lowered his lips to his wife’s mouth. After a prolonged kiss that made him harden immediately, he grinned at her. “Are you up for a wager of our own?”