“Do you like it?” From behind her, Colin’s voice sounded warm and pleased, as though he knew her answer. It flowed over and around her, making her body hum with contentment.
She turned to face him. “It’s the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever given me. Well, maybe except for my ring.”
“We’ll furnish it however you like. Benchley cleaned it for me. I don’t know about the books—they probably haven’t been disturbed in decades.”
She wandered to the bookcases and ran a finger down the dark green leather spine of one volume. Her fingertip came away smudged, leaving the green stripe noticeably brighter than the rest of the cover. But it didn’t matter; cleaning and organizing the books would be a joyful endeavor.
She’d felt rather useless as a countess these past six weeks.
“It’s amazing,” she said, looking back to Colin. Winter sun streamed through the windows and seemed to create a halo around him, swimming with brilliant dust motes from the recently swept room.
His lips curved in a wry smile, and he gave an elegant shrug. “I had nothing else to give you for Christmas.”
Amy’s heart plunged. “Oh, Colin, I have nothing for you. And this—this”—she gestured helplessly—“it’s so much.”
Colin moved to enclose her in his warm, strong arms. His face mere inches away, she lost herself in his emerald gaze. “I need no gift from you, love,” he said, his voice low and slightly rough. “You’re my Christmas present. You’re all I want and more than I deserve. Besides, how could you get me anything? I haven’t left you alone for a heartbeat.”
He grinned, and it had a devastating effect on Amy’s insides. Suddenly, she realized she did have a gift for him. She smiled to herself. An idea flickered in her brain. A clever Christmas prank.
She’d need Kendra’s help…
He kissed her then, and her fledgling plans drifted away, replaced, as always, by the overwhelming feelings Colin engendered with his slightest touch.
His touch now was by no means slight. They made love on the couch—“christening” the room, as Colin put it, though Amy protested this was quite unlike any christening she’d ever attended. Evidently they disturbed years of accumulated dust in the process, because afterward, Colin ran a fingertip down the bridge of her nose, just as she’d done to the book.
Laughing, he called for a bath, and they moved downstairs to wash each other in their enormous tub. Benchley had the horses hitched and had been waiting a good half-hour by the time they emerged and climbed into the carriage to make their way to Cainewood.
The road was hard and dry today, and their carriage barreled toward Cainewood in record time. Besides clothing for a short stay, their trunks had small packages tucked inside—Christmas gifts of jewelry they’d chosen the night before. Amy’s heart galloped with excitement at the thought of everyone’s pleasure in their gifts, especially the surprise she was planning for Colin.
Before she knew it they were in the village, knocking on the door to Clarice Bradford’s whitewashed cottage. Little Mary came to answer, Clarice at her heels. The child looked well fed and pink cheeked, and with a whoop of joy she threw herself into Amy’s arms.
“Oh, my lady—I mean, Amy! I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again!”
Amy knelt to return the embrace, then pulled back. The girl’s big blue eyes sparkled with happiness, and not just at seeing her old friend. She was content here with Clarice—the two had needed each other.
Just as Amy and Colin had been meant to be together.
“I am a lady now, Mary. Can you believe it? I’ve married Lord Cainewood’s brother. Do you remember him?” She rose and put her arm around Colin’s waist.
“’Course I ‘member him.” Mary tilted her head back to look up at him. “You saved me so I could be Mama’s little girl.”
Amy had to jump to the side when the child launched herself at him, leaping high, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “Oh, my lord, thank you!”
“I cannot find the words to tell you how grateful I am.” Clarice bowed her head and bobbed a curtsy. She reached for her daughter, but Colin shifted Mary to his hip, supporting her with one arm while he gave Clarice’s hand a quick squeeze.
“It was my pleasure.” He smiled at Mary and brushed blond ringlets from her face. “I’m delighted to see Mary so happy.”
“No more delighted than I am to have her.” Clarice reached again, and this time Colin handed Mary over. “Thank you, my lord.” She cradled her daughter tight, tears brightening her gray eyes.
“I brought you something, Mary.” Amy held out a tiny package wrapped in bright cloth and tied with a pink ribbon. “For Christmas.”
“For me?” Mary’s mouth dropped open in a little O. “What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
Clarice set her down, and she fumbled with the ribbon until Colin took it and untied it for her. The cloth fell open in his hand, and Mary gasped.
“Is it really for me?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached for the sterling silver locket and brought it to her lips. “Oh, my lady, thank you!”
Amy had strung it on a narrow black ribbon. Clarice eased Mary’s hand from her mouth and turned her to tie it around her neck. “A heart.” She smiled at Amy. “Mary loves hearts. And it’s engraved so prettily. It’s lovely, my lady.”
“I made it a long time ago.” Amy took the pink ribbon from Colin and tied it in Mary’s curls. “When I was yet a girl in London.”
“I have something to give you, too.” Mary dashed into the cottage.
Clarice spread her hands in question, but Mary was back in a moment, holding forth a scrap of paper.
