She went, skipping out into the kitchen as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Which was true. And Colin hoped he could keep it that way for a long, long time.
Closing the door, he turned to his wife. “Did you see how ingenious that was?” he asked, amazed at his daughter’s creativity. “Look how she connected the bucket’s handle to the door latch with a rope, so it wouldn’t hit me on the head when it fell off the top of the door. Brilliant. Just brilliant.” He shook his head slowly in admiration. “Our daughter is so incredible.”
Trust Colin to equate intelligence with a well executed practical joke, Amy mused, rising from her workbench. She too was convinced their daughter was a genius, but her opinion stemmed from Jewel’s reading ability and thirst for knowledge.
“I know what she did.” Amy pushed the wet hair off Colin’s face and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I was here, working.”
“And you let her do it, anyway.”
“Of course—you deserved it after the lemonade. Besides, she thinks she went unnoticed. She was quiet as a mouse, and I kept my back to her the whole time.”
“So you’re an accessory to the crime,” Colin accused, with that devastating smile that made Amy’s heart turn over, even after all these years.
“I suppose one could conclude that.”
“Which reminds me: How did she manage that hay trick? You must know.”
Amy did know. Jewel and Benchley, whom she’d long ago charmed into acting as her willing accomplice, had placed a board against the open wardrobe and stuffed hay behind it, then closed the door most of the way, pulled the board, and slammed the wardrobe shut. When Colin opened it to hang his shirt on a peg, he’d turned into a human haystack.
Watching from their bed, Amy had laughed herself sick. Jewel had run in, crowing with delight, prompting Colin to initiate a wrestling match that resulted in an explosion of sweet-smelling hay spread all about the chamber. And after Jewel returned to bed, Colin had picked the strands of hay from Amy’s hair, one by one…
Amy shook her head to clear it. No, she hadn’t the right to give away Jewel’s secrets. “I have no idea,” she said coyly. “Jewel doesn’t confide in me.”
But Benchley does, she amended to herself. Benchley was forever boasting about Lady Jewel’s accomplishments. To everyone but Jewel’s father, that was.
Benchley was loyal to a fault.
“Are you quite certain?” Colin asked, his mouth against hers.
“Quite.”
His arms tightened around her, and his lips pressed closer. Amy’s knees turned to pudding, and she felt her pulse quicken. His kiss intensified, claiming her as his alone. Her senses whirled, and her heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it.
She vaguely wondered how she could feel this way—she, a grown lady of twenty-four, with three children. But inside, she felt no older than when Colin first kissed her, so many years ago. And his kisses still affected her the same way, only more so.
“Amy…” Colin murmured into her mouth.
“Hmm?”
He pulled his lips from hers. But he pressed her even closer to him. “How did Jewel pull off the hay trick?”
His lips brushed hers teasingly. And she almost told him…
“Lord Greystone?” A sharp knock came at the door.
Colin jumped away with a groan. “Yes?”
Lydia opened the door and stuck her head in just as Amy smoothed her skirts, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“Lady Jewel says you were supposed to tell her a story?”
“Oh…yes…I did promise her a story…didn’t I?” Colin groaned again, but Amy knew he would follow—he’d never disappoint his precious Jewel.
A Chase promise was not given lightly.
“This will be continued,” Colin vowed before going to his daughter. His deep, husky voice held a challenge, and Amy knew he was referring to the hay episode and what he doubtless considered an ingenious, delicious method of inducing her to confess what she knew about it.
But she chose to interpret his words in an entirely different context.
This will be continued. For a long, long, long time.
Forever.
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Next up is Jason’s story in The Marquess’s Scottish Bride. Please read on for an excerpt.
If you'd like to learn more about the real people, places, and events in The Earl’s Unsuitable Bride, turn the page for Lauren’s Author's Note...
BONUS MATERIAL
Author's Note
Explore the Chase Family World
Excerpt from The Marquess’s Scottish Bride
Books by Lauren & Devon Royal
Contest
About the Authors
Acknowledgments
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Dear Reader,
When I read a historical novel, I always find myself wondering what and who (besides obvious people like the king and queen) might actually be real. In case any of my readers share this curiosity, I thought a bit of information might be welcome.
The king's mistress, Barbara Villiers Palmer, Countess of Castlemaine (and later, after this story takes place, the Duchess of Cleveland), was indeed real. As King Charles's mistress on and off for at least ten years, she bore him four sons—all of which he created dukes—and a daughter. Charles granted lifetime annuities of £6000 a year for Barbara and £3000 for each of their sons. These were amazing sums at the time and more than he granted any other mistresses or children, yet he must have known Barbara had other lovers—a vast string of them, including not only many English and French courtiers, but
