"Nick," she exclaimed with an exuberant laugh, coming forward and lifting up on her toes to receive his kiss. He enclosed her in a brief hug, rested his chin on the crown of her head, then drew back to look at her appraisingly. In that one instant, Lottie saw the remarkable depth of feeling between the two, which had somehow survived years of distance, loss, and deception.
"You're expecting another one," Gentry said after a moment, and his older sister laughed.
"How did you know? Sir Grant must have told you."
"No. But your waist is thicker-or else your corset strings have come loose."
Pulling away, Lady Cannon laughed and swatted at his chest. "You tactless wretch. Yes, my waist is thicker, and will continue to increase until January, at which time you'll have a new niece or nephew to dandle on your knee."
"God help me," he said with feeling.
Lady Cannon turned toward Lottie, her face softening. "Welcome, Charlotte. Nick sent word to me about you yesterday-I have been terribly impatient to meet you." She smelled like tea and roses, a fragrance that was as soothing as it was alluring. Sliding a slender arm around Lottie's shoulders, she turned to address Gentry. "What a lovely sister you've brought me," she remarked. "Mind you treat her well, Nick, or I shall invite her to live here with me. She appears far too well-bred to keep company with the likes of you."
"So far, I have no complaints about Mr. Gentry's treatment of me," Lottie replied with a smile. "Of course, we've only been married for an hour."
Lady Cannon frowned at her brother. "Marrying this poor girl in the registrar's office, of all places! I wish to heaven you had waited and allowed me to arrange something here. Why, you haven't even given her a ring! Honestly, Nick-"
"I didn't want to wait," he interrupted brusquely.
Before Lady Cannon could reply, a small child toddled into the entrance hall, followed by an aproned nanny. The dark-haired little girl, with her blue eyes and dimpled cheeks, could not have been much older than two. "Unca Nick!" she shrieked, rushing at him headlong, her curls flying in a wild, tangled mass.
Gentry caught her and swung her up in the air, grinning at her screams of delight. As he hugged her close, his strong affection for the child was more than obvious, belying his earlier description of her as a "tolerable brat."
Wrapping her plump arms around his neck, the little girl growled playfully, kissing him and pulling at his hair.
"God, what a savage," Gentry said, laughing. He turned her upside down, making the child squeal in excitement.
"Nick," his sister reproved, although she was laughing as well. "Don't, you'll drop her on her head."
"I will not," he said lazily, righting the child and holding her against his chest.
"Candy," the little girl demanded, plunging inside his coat as busily as a ferret. Finding what she had been searching for, she extracted a small paper parcel and crowed with excitement as her uncle opened it for her.
"What are you giving her this time?" Lady Cannon asked with resignation.
"Cinder toffee," he said cheerfully, while his niece popped a large sugary wad into her cheek. His eyes continued to sparkle as he glanced at Lottie. "Would you like some?"
She shook her head, while her heart gave a peculiar extra thump. Just now, when he had looked at her that way, his face gentle, his smile quick and easy, he had been so devastatingly handsome that Lottie had felt a shot of pleasure from the back of her neck down to her toes.
"Amelia," Gentry murmured, bringing her to Lottie. "Say hello to your aunt Charlotte. I married her this very morning."
Suddenly shy, the little girl laid her head on Gentry's shoulder and smiled at Lottie. Lottie smiled back at her, uncertain of what to say. She had little experience with children, as she had lived away from home for so many years.
Lady Cannon came to retrieve her sticky-faced daughter, smoothing back her knotted curls. "My darling," she murmured. "Won't you let Nanny brush your hair?"
The round little chin protruded obstinately. "No," she said around the mouthful of cinder toffee, punctuating her refusal with a drooling grin.
"If you won't let her brush out the tangles, they'll become so impossible that we'll have to cut them out."
Gentry added in a coaxing tone, "Let Nanny brush your hair, sweets. And the next time I come to visit, I'll bring you a pretty blue ribbon."
"And a doll?" Amelia asked hopefully.
"A doll as big as you," he promised.
Squirming down from her mother's arms, the little girl tottered off to the waiting nanny.
"She is a beautiful child," Lottie remarked.
Lady Cannon shook her head with a rueful smile, her eyes filled with maternal pride. "And spoiled beyond reason." Returning to Lottie, she took her hand. "You must call me Sophia," she said warmly. "Let's not bother with formal terms of address."
"Yes, my...yes, Sophia."
"My husband will be joining us quite soon in the parlor-"
"Oh, splendid," came Gentry's surly voice from behind them.
Sophia continued as if she hadn't heard him. "-and I will send for some refreshments. I have just acquired an exquisite chocolate service-do you like chocolate, Charlotte?"
Lottie accompanied her newfound sister-in-law to a sumptuous parlor, one side of which was lined with glass panels that provided a view of a lushly planted indoor conservatory. "I've never had it before," she replied. The beverage had never been served at Maidstone's-and even if it had been, Lord Radnor would never have allowed her to have it. And certainly the servants at Stony Cross Park had rarely, if ever, enjoyed such luxuries. Butter and eggs were seldom allotted to servants, much less something as dear as chocolate.
"Never? Well, then, you shall try some today." Sophia's smile contained an impish quality as she added, "I happen to be a great authority on the subject."
The parlor was decorated in warm shades of burgundy, gold, and green, the heavy mahogany furniture upholstered in brocade and velvet. Small tables with leather tops were scattered throughout the room, bearing tempting loads of folio books, novels, and newspapers. At Sophia's direction, Lottie sat on an overstuffed couch, against a row of pillows embroidered in patterns of animals and flowers. Nick sat beside her after Sophia took a nearby chair.
A housemaid approached Sophia, received a few whispered directions, and left the room discreetly.
"My husband will be here momentarily," Sophia informed them serenely. "Now, Charlotte, do tell me how you and Nick met. His note was quite brief, and I am eager for details." Lottie opened and closed her mouth like a landed fish, unable to form a reply. She did not want to lie to Sophia, but the truth-that their marriage was a cold, practical arrangement-was too embarrassing to admit. Gentry answered for her, his large hand covering hers.
"We met in Hampshire during an investigation," he told his sister, playing with Lottie's fingers as he spoke. "Lottie was affianced to Lord Radnor, and she went into hiding to avoid him. He hired me to find her, and when I did..." He shrugged and let Sophia draw her own conclusions.
"But Lord Radnor is at least three decades older than Charlotte," Sophia said, wrinkling her nose. She glanced at Lottie with frank sympathy. "And having met him on one or two occasions, I find him to be quite odd. No wonder you didn't suit." She glanced at Gentry. "And were you immediately taken with Charlotte, when you found her?"
"Who wouldn't be?" Gentry parried with a bland smile. He drew a slow circle on Lottie's palm, stroked the insides of her fingers, brushed his thumb over the delicate veins of her wrist. The subtle exploration made her feel hot and breathless, her entire being focused on the fingertip that feathered along the tender flesh of her upper palm. Most disconcerting of all was the realization that Gentry didn't even know what he was doing. He fiddled lazily with her hand and talked with Sophia, while the chocolate service was brought to the parlor and set out on the table.
"Isn't it charming?" Sophia asked, indicating the flowered porcelain service with a flourish. She picked up the tall, narrow pot and poured a dark, fragrant liquid into one of the small cups, filling the bottom third. "Most people use cocoa powder, but the best results are obtained by mixing the cream with chocolate liquor." Expertly she stirred a generous spoonful of sugar into the steaming liquid. "Not liquor as in wine or spirits, mind you. Chocolate liquor is pressed from the meat of the beans, after they have been roasted and hulled."
"It smells quite lovely," Lottie commented, her breath catching as Gentry's fingertip investigated the plump softness at the base of her thumb.
Sophia turned her attention to preparing the other cups. "Yes, and the flavor is divine. I much prefer chocolate to coffee in the morning."
"Is it a st-stimulant, then?" Lottie asked, finally managing to jerk her hand away from Gentry. Deprived of his plaything, he gave her a questioning glance.
"Yes, of a sort," Sophia replied, pouring a generous amount of cream into the sweetened chocolate liquor. She stirred the cups with a tiny silver spoon. "Although it is not quite as animating as coffee, chocolate is uplifting in its own way." She winked at Lottie. "Some even claim that chocolate rouses the amorous instincts."
"How interesting," Lottie said, doing her best to ignore Gentry as she accepted her cup. Inhaling the rich fumes appreciatively, she took a tiny sip of the shiny, dark liquid. The robust sweetness slid along her tongue and tickled the back of her throat.
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