He was gone when Jocelyn woke, and it left her wondering if she’d imagined the entire encounter. Only the faint bruise on her left breast and her naked state gave her proof of his visit. She slid off the bed, ignored the twinge of sore muscles, and started to wash briskly with a cloth and cold water. She frowned, still uncertain if he’d told her the truth. Even so, it’d be best if no one suspected Leo’s visit.
Susan knocked on the door and entered. Two steps into the room, she came to an abrupt halt, her right hand clasping her breast. Her mouth formed into an O of surprise when she spied Jocelyn’s unbound hair.
“I’ll wear my blue floral gown today, Susan.” Jocelyn glanced at her looking glass and barely suppressed a wince. Her hair resembled a stork’s nest.
“Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.”
If Leo was in jail this morning, she’d know he spoke the truth about Captain Cartwright believing him innocent. But if she discovered Leo had lied, she’d inform on him herself. Jocelyn took the opportunity to finish washing, new resolve pouring through her now that she had a purpose. She picked up her brush, but Susan returned with her gown and undergarments before she could restore her hair to tidiness.
“Did you have a restless night, Mrs. Sherbourne?”
“Yes,” Jocelyn said, hating that Leo was turning her to subterfuge. Leo…drat the man. She didn’t know what to think. Last night he’d soothed some of her concerns. It was once she was alone or when other people spoke of him that her doubts returned.
She noticed Susan eyeing the faint bruise on her breast. “I think I’ll dress first. I’m feeling chilly today.” She gave a theatrical shiver and stood to allow Susan to help her don her chemise.
Susan dressed her with her normal efficiency, and Jocelyn chattered aimlessly, but the tightening of her maid’s lips and her increasingly short replies told of Susan’s suspicions. She thought Jocelyn was conducting an affair. If only she knew.
After breaking her fast, Jocelyn began her plans for the festival, glad of the task to keep her mind busy. She requested a meeting with Mrs. Green. They retreated to the parlor to go through the notes Leo’s mother had made regarding previous festivals.
“Mrs. Sherbourne liked to have games and contests.” Mrs. Green actually smiled. “She disliked drunken revels and kept everyone occupied before serving the feast.”
The parlor door burst open, striking the wall with a noisy thump.
“You can’t do this!” Hannah stormed into the room. “You can’t hold the festival at Merrivale.”
Mrs. Green started, sending papers flying. She shot to her feet, a dull tide of color flooding her cheeks. A snap of annoyance showed in her dark eyes as she retrieved the papers and reclaimed her seat.
“There is nothing to stop you from holding a festival.” Jocelyn didn’t understand why Hannah was so determined. Maybe she wanted to take credit for the organization.
“Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll let the vicar know.” Hannah beamed, becoming gracious with her perceived victory.
Jocelyn rose, not wanting to feel at a disadvantage with Hannah looming over her. Standing, she had several inches over the other woman. “No, you misunderstand. I intend to revert to tradition and host the villagers and neighbors here at Merrivale. Your course of action is up to you.”
“You can’t. I—”
“This is pointless.” Jocelyn drew herself up, unwilling to let Hannah push her into emotional turmoil. “I will not change my mind. Our people work hard, and I wish to show my gratitude for their service and loyalty.” Jocelyn strode over to the door and waited. When Hannah stood rooted to the ground, Jocelyn tapped an impatient foot, stirring the hem of her gown with a sharp rustle. “Hannah?”
“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Hannah spat, and she flounced from the parlor, muttering obscenities under her breath.
Mrs. Green tut-tutted at the etiquette breach.
“What happened last year?”
“I didn’t attend since my sister was sick and I was busy nursing her back to health. From what I understand there were many strangers present—friends of the Richards’. They arrived two days before the festival and, from all accounts, behaved like drunken louts. I can’t say if the local women were willing or not. Many of them ended up with child. The visitors picked fights with the locals. The evening ended in a nasty brawl.”
“And that’s why the vicar wishes us to host the festival.”
“That is my supposition, Mrs. Sherbourne.”
“Although with the gossip about Mr. Sherbourne, I wonder how many locals will attend.”
“Curiosity will bring them,” Mrs. Green said, speaking plainly.
Jocelyn settled back in her chair with a sigh. “I think you’re right. Perhaps we should get back to our plans. Is there any mention of games for children?”
An hour later, Jocelyn and Mrs. Green concluded their meeting, their strategy for the festival underway.
Jocelyn went to check on her mother.
“Tilly, how is Mother this morning?”
Her mother bolted upright in her bed. “I’m not an invalid. Georgina, tell Tilly I can get out of bed.”
Every time her mother called her Georgina, Jocelyn’s heart fractured a little more. She forced a smile to cover the hurt. “It’s another lovely day. Would you like to go for a walk in the garden this afternoon?”
Her mother beamed and let out a cry of delight. “I want to make a special lemon wash for Charlotte’s hair. She has such pretty hair. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do with your hair. That red is beyond my help.”
“Of course, Mother.” A rush of tears stung Jocelyn’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly. Her mother was confused and didn’t mean to wound. She withdrew and hurried to the opposite wing and the haven of her chamber. By the time she closed her door and leaned against the hard wood, tears poured down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed for the mother she used to know, the one who scolded her when she played in the mud with the village children. The one who held her after she fell and scraped her knee. The one who disapproved of her life as a courtesan even as she ignored the fact Jocelyn’s father had gambled away his daughter’s virginity. She cried for her mother of old.
The days passed, turning into weeks. Leo grew increasingly worried as the end of the month neared. Despite staking out the abbey, not a soul ventured near the ruins in the dead of the night. From his hilltop position, he glared down at the silent pillars, the piles of glowing gray stones revealed whenever the moon peeked from behind a cloud.
“The next quarter session takes place soon. The justice of the peace will be here in less than three weeks.”
Cartwright’s disclosure shot ice through his veins. “You could always let me escape,” Leo said.
“That would make me look inefficient.” Cartwright shot him a sideways glance, one that Leo had no difficulty reading despite the black of the night. “I give you free rein as it is. I know you sneak off to visit your wife.”
“But you believe my innocence?” If he went to trial, he wouldn’t have a chance with the evidence pointing at him. The locals were scared. Angry. And so they should be, but they were looking for someone to blame, to punish.
He was an innocent man.
“I wouldn’t roam the moors at all hours if I didn’t place credence in your story.”
“Each time I’ve seen groups of people at the abbey it’s been after the abduction of a woman,” Leo said thoughtfully.
“We can’t exactly place a trap for them. Your rescue of Ella scared them, made them extra cautious, and the local women aren’t going out at night or walking alone. That must make it more difficult for them to grab someone else. We’ll have to wait until the culprits relax enough to resume their activities. Hell, they’re probably looking sideways at each other, wondering who released Ella, since you’re sticking to your story about finding her wandering the moor.”
“Depends on the tale Sir James spun about that night. And there’s the fact Ella says I kidnapped her.” Leo hated this. From the little Jocelyn said it appeared Ella’s mind was damaged from her experience, and he wouldn’t wish that hell on anyone. “Have the abductions coincided with house parties?”
“Within a few days,” Cartwright replied.
“So someone decides on a target and makes off with them. A secret society along the lines of the Hellfire Club?”
“That’s what I think,” Cartwright said.
“What do we do next?” Discouragement dogged his heels, weighing down his spirit tonight. He wanted to live openly with Jocelyn, instead of paying clandestine visits. Damn it, he needed to walk tall with his name cleared of suspicion.
“I’ll keep an ear open while I do my rounds. Keep track of the comings and goings at Castle Hartscombe and Duxton.” He paused, his face contorting into deep set lines. “Might have a quiet word with the constables in the neighboring parishes to discover if they have unexplained disappearances.”
“And at night?”
“We’ll continue to stake out this place. If any visitors arrive, we’ll track their movements.”
Leo gave a stiff nod.
“Go and visit your wife, lad. Make sure you’re back in time for me to lock you up.”
“Thank you.” Cartwright was doing him a favor, even if the restrictions governing his liberty chafed him. Intending to melt into the darkness, he came to an abrupt halt when a foreign sound cut through the air. He slinked back to Cartwright’s side and peered down at the abbey ruins.
“Two men on horseback,” Cartwright murmured. “Do you recognize them?”
Leo stiffened on seeing the gray stallion one of the men was riding. His gaze darted to the man’s face but it was shadowed and impossible to identify from this distance.
“What?” Cartwright prompted.
“I know the horse. I sold it to Jaego Woodburn about three years ago. The other horse looks like one from the castle stables. Maybe that’s Peregrine.”
Cartwright drew in a sharp breath. “Jaego hasn’t been around for a while.”
“Not since the party at Hartscombe,” Leo said in a tight voice.
“You didn’t know Jaego was sneaking around with your wife?”
Leo tracked the movements of the two men as they swung off their mounts. “No,” he said. “I knew she was seeing other men, but I didn’t realize my best friend numbered among them.”
Silence fell between the pair as they watched from their hilltop. The two men led their horses out of sight.
“Do we follow them?”
“No,” Cartwright said. “There are just the two of them. I’ll watch them and see what eventuates. Tomorrow, I’ll ask a few questions and discover where he’s staying.”
“Probably with Peregrine at the castle.”
“Something always puzzled me,” Cartwright said. “Everyone suspected you murdered Ursula, yet Hannah and Peregrine and their parents stood by you.”
“I think they knew what she was like, that she was meeting other men. Not that they discussed it with me. Ursula spent a lot of nights at the castle. A lot of people knew our marriage was a failure. I told the viscount I didn’t murder their daughter, and he seemed to believe me.”
Down below, the two men reappeared, still leading their horses. Both mounted and rode off.
“I wonder what that was about,” Leo said.
“Hopefully I’ll learn more tomorrow,” Cartwright said. “Go. Visit your wife. I’ll keep an eye on these two.”
“Thanks.” Leo slipped away to where they’d left their horses, his mind full of the past. The smirk on Ursula’s face, the bruises on her body from where she’d said Jaego had spanked her. And Jaego, his friend of many years—the man he’d called brother. He hadn’t denied his perfidy when Leo confronted him.
Even now, the memories held the power to hurt, to sling him into fury. A red haze formed in his mind, and he had to fight the urge to grab his horse and gallop after Jaego. What the fuck was he doing back in Merrivale?
Leo reached his mount and swung into the saddle. Despite his urge for vengeance, he steered his horse to the manor and Jocelyn.
Jocelyn lingered in her bed, exhausted, despite a good night of sleep. The indentation on the pillow beside her indicated Leo had joined her at some stage, but she hadn’t heard him arrive or depart.
Susan bustled into her chamber bearing a tray of her normal tea and bread and jam. The scent raised Jocelyn’s gorge. Oh, St Bridget. She was going to be sick. She flung back her covers and leaped off her bed, barely making the chamber pot in time.
“Mrs. Sherbourne?” Susan set the tray aside and hovered like a mother hen. “Mrs. Sherbourne.”
Jocelyn caught another whiff of the fresh bread and vomited again. She hovered near the chamber pot and, once she was certain her belly wouldn’t revolt, she lifted her head. “Please take the tray away. I’m not feeling well.”
Susan’s sharp glance dissected her appearance. She gave a curt nod and hurried to carry out Jocelyn’s order. “I’ll be back in a thrice.”
Wearily, Jocelyn straightened and trudged to her bed. She sank onto the edge of the mattress. Something she’d eaten last night hadn’t agreed with her system.
Five minutes later, Susan returned. She handed Jocelyn a piece of dry bread. “Try nibbling on this. It should settle your stomach. My mother swore by it.”
Jocelyn stared at the bread dubiously. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, Mrs. Sherbourne. I suspect you’re with child.”
Jocelyn’s head jerked up, and she stared at her maid in bemusement. “A baby?” She hadn’t considered the possibility with all that was going on at the manor.
“Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.” Susan didn’t smile. Instead she glanced over at the indentation on the spare pillow, before shifting her attention back to Jocelyn. Although she didn’t comment, her disapproval was clear. “You’re showing all the signs.”
“But I haven’t noticed—” Frowning, she thought over the past weeks. She’d felt tired, but this was the first time she’d felt physically ill. Her courses hadn’t arrived. She’d put it down to her change in circumstances, worry about her mother, the apprehension and ever-present confusion when she thought of Leo. Hope surged through her now. Excitement. A baby. Her own child to love and nurture. “Do you really think I’m with child?”
“You’re displaying the same symptoms my older sister experienced earlier this year. Would you like to go back to bed?”
“No.” Jocelyn nibbled absently on the piece of bread. “I have too much to do for the festival.”
“Do you feel a little better?”
“Yes.” Surprisingly she did.
“My sister swore by the dry bread. She’d nibble on a crust every morning before she started her day.”
“Thank you.” How would Leo take the news? Some of the shine went off her happiness when she thought of her incarcerated husband. Surely he couldn’t sneak around for much longer, not when he’d face the court soon and stand trial. She scowled. She hadn’t managed to wriggle any details from him, despite her questions. It was most vexing.
She stood cautiously, a hand going to her still flat stomach. She felt almost normal, apart from the suspicion of a child dancing through her mind. She was going to have a baby. A warm glow expanded throughout her body, and she couldn’t seem to keep still.
Despite her fidgety twitching, Susan managed to get her dressed, and Jocelyn left her chamber clothed in a lilac gown with matching petticoats in a darker hue. She made her way down the corridor, past an alcove bearing a tall marble urn, the jet-black patina reflecting her face back to her when she paused. Smiling, she continued on her way, her hand cradling her belly.
A loud shriek echoed from the room they used to break their fast. Oh, joy. What had upset her mother now? When a second higher-pitched scream joined the first, she hurried toward the screeches.
She found her mother hovering over Cassie, her face contorted into a horrendous expression. Cassie crouched in a corner, her small mouth open in preparation to release another terrified squeal.
“What is going on?” Jocelyn’s stern voice cut the tension, and her mother backed up, the extra distance between them giving Cassie the façade of security.
“Who is this child?” Elizabeth spun around to face Jocelyn. “Who are you?” Her frown intensified. “Where is my daughter? Charlotte? Charlotte! This isn’t Charlotte’s child. Who is she?”
Cassie let out a squeak, pressing her tiny body deeper into the corner, her eyes large and fearful.
“Mother, take a seat. You’re scaring Cassie.” Jocelyn glanced at Tilly, before attempting to steer her mother to one of the vacant seats. Elizabeth resisted, wrenching her arm free and whirled around to glower at Cassie. With her dark gown and the untidy wisps of hair escaping her cap, she appeared crazed, and she was certainly acting in the same way. “Perhaps Mother’s medicine would calm her,” Jocelyn said.
“I don’t require medicine.” Elizabeth’s gaze darted frantically around the room, searching faces. Unhealthy red splotches grew on her cheeks. “If Charlotte isn’t available, then where is Georgina? I want Georgina.”
But Georgina doesn’t want you, Mother. Jocelyn strove for patience. “Georgina is in London. Please, let me get you something to eat.”
Finally, her mother moved away from Cassie, and Jocelyn scooped up the small girl, giving her a cuddle. “I’m sorry my mother scared you, sweetheart.” Now that Arabella had left, she needed to find someone to take her place. This current arrangement wasn’t working, especially with Elizabeth taking exception to Cassie’s presence. Maybe Mrs. Green would have a suggestion as to someone suitable.
Cassie’s small hands curled around Jocelyn’s neck. For once the child accepted comfort from her instead of rejecting Jocelyn. Her mouth wobbled and tears filled her big blue eyes. “She doesn’t know my name.”
“Yes,” Jocelyn said with a trace of sadness. “She forgets mine too.”
“Hannah says she’s mad. Why is she mad?”
Hannah needed to stop her unguarded speech. “My mother isn’t feeling well. It makes her unable to recall some things.” Jocelyn made her explanation simple enough for Cassie to understand while attempting to keep her irritation contained. Although she preferred not to confront Hannah and cause further ill-will, she didn’t like the way the woman manipulated her niece. It was time to have a word and request her to desist.
Leo sneaked into the manor, dirty and exhausted, after skulking around Hartscombe Castle for most of the evening. He’d like nothing more than a bath, but resigned himself to a cold wash. At least he’d confirmed Jaego was staying at the castle. Hannah and Peregrine were playing host to several other friends as well, which made Leo’s hopes surge. Maybe an end was in sight. He was tired of spending his days locked in a cell and sneaking around the moors in the middle of the night. He hated having to creep into his own home to visit his wife.
Inside his chamber, some of the tension left him. He pressed his ear to the door and heard the faint murmur of feminine voices. Damn. How long was the maid going to stay? He’d promised Cartwright he wouldn’t reveal himself to anyone except Jocelyn.
At least his farm employees were carrying out the instructions he’d given them before Cartwright had arrested him. Most landowners expected their workers to attend to the day-to-day toil on the land. Leo liked to participate. It was a point of pride to know what was happening with each part of the farming process even if he arrived home looking like a laborer. Days of sitting in his cell, unable to do more than pace, put him in a bad temper. He missed the physical labor. He missed freedom.
He listened at the door again and heard nothing. After waiting for another three minutes, he carefully opened the door. A hipbath sat near the doorway, steam still rising from the scented water.
Cautiously he peeked into Jocelyn’s chamber. To his relief, he found her alone.
“Jocelyn.” He waited until he was sure she’d seen him, not wanting to scare her. Sometimes he thought she was frightened of him, although she hid it well.
“Leo,” she said, taking in his disreputable appearance. Her blue eyes rounded. She held her nose with her thumb and finger. “Something smells.”
Leo chuckled. “Am I that bad?”
“Worse.” She backed up a few steps.
“Is your maid returning?”
“No, I told her to retire for the evening. She spends her half day off looking after her sister and doesn’t get much rest. The poor girl was almost asleep on her feet.”
Leo started to disrobe, dropping his soiled clothes at his feet. “It would be silly of me to wash with cold water when there is a warm bath available.”
Jocelyn inclined her head. “That is why I told Susan not to bother with removing the bath until the morning.”
“A wife beyond compare,” Leo said.
Naked, Leo could feel the weight of her stare and put a swagger in his step, twitching his arse. On reaching the bath, he glanced back. She wasn’t watching him. Some of his good mood shriveled. Shaking his head, he sighed. He was charged with murder. Doubts on her part were understandable.
The bath was a small one and the lukewarm water smelled of flowers, but after days of cold water he sank into the water without complaint. He scrubbed the dirt from his chest and legs, relishing feeling clean and human again instead of like a caged monkey.
“Would you like me to scrub your back?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more.” Her open smile went a long way to ease his concerns and exhaustion. “How was your day?”
“Interesting.”
Something in her tone drew his attention. Excitement blazed in her, her lips curved in a secret smile.
“What sort of interesting?”
“Wait until we eat. I ordered a late supper.”
“Now I’m curious.”
She tapped her nose, before she stepped behind him. She grabbed a cloth, lathered it with soap and started to wash his back, her earlier reticence no longer in evidence.
A groan of pleasure whispered from him. “I should get dirty more often.”
“Would you like me to wash your hair? I have a special cleanser my mother makes.”
Leo caught the way the good humor drained from her. Ah, her mother had experienced another episode. He sought a topic to take her mind off her mother’s declining health. “No one has offered to wash my hair before.”
“I hope you enjoy the experience. Tell me about your day,” she said. Color stained her cheeks when she realized what she’d asked. “I’m sorry.”
“As it happens my day was entertaining. Cartwright locked away Bill Jakeson, the blacksmith until he sobered up. I had to listen to his bad singing and slurs against my character for two hours. Once he fell asleep it was peaceful for ten minutes, then the man started snoring. I hold great sympathy for his wife.”
While he talked, she poured water over his head and massaged his head.
“You have magic hands.” The firm press of her fingers made him want to groan. His breath caught as her scent surrounded him. The minutes passed, and his eyes closed to better savor her attentions. Finally, she ceased her rubbing and poured more water over his skull, rinsing away the soap.
“All done.”
“Thank you.” He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the delicate skin of her inner wrist, wishing things were different, that shadows didn’t slide over her face when she was with him.
“You’re welcome.”
If Ursula had ever offered to assist him in this manner, he’d have wondered what she wanted in return. Jocelyn aided him because she enjoyed his company. Most of the time. His thoughts led to more sexual ones, the relaxation in his muscles giving way to lust. “How hungry are you, or have you already eaten?”
“I did eat a little, but I find myself hungry again.”
He stood abruptly, the water pouring off his body as he stepped from the bath. Time spent with Jocelyn always made his mind turn to other appetites, ones that had nothing to do with food.
She handed him a towel, which he accepted, giving his body a cursory rub to dry the worst of the moisture clinging to his skin.
“Let me dry your back.”
“Not necessary,” he said, stalking her.
“What are you doing?” Alarm flickered across her face before most of it smoothed away. A small crease remained between her brows.
He checked himself, coming to a halt on seeing the fear she tried to hide. He forced a rueful smile. “I’m not doing a very good job of seducing you.”
“I…sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
“No! No, of course not.”
“Come, let us go and eat.” He took care to move slowly, so as not to alarm her, and offered her his arm. He escorted her to her bed, a smile tugging at his lips because he was naked and she wore a thin chemise. “I’m sure we appear very dignified.”
She dimpled, and he relaxed a fraction.
He seated her on the edge of the bed and stepped away, casting a rueful glance at his erection. Likely, she had no doubts regarding the direction of his thoughts. He picked up a plate bearing a large slice of meat pie. “This will do nicely.”
Leo took the plate back to the bed and fed her morsels of food. Under his attentions, she unwound. “Tell me about your day,” he said.
“Mother scared Cassie half to death,” Jocelyn said. “I need to find someone to look after Cassie. The baker’s daughter was recommended to me, but her mother flatly refused to allow her to work at the manor.”
“Because of me?”
She avoided his gaze, the action answer enough.
“I’m sorry.”
“You said you didn’t murder those women, and I believe you.”
“Thank you.” Leo set the plate aside. “I’m going to kiss you now. I’m telling you so I don’t frighten you again.”
“Why don’t I kiss you? That way you can be sure it’s what I want.”
Leo couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the tip of her freckled nose. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”
The brush of her lips against his was almost innocent, yet it propelled hunger through him. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and he gently pushed her down on the mattress. This time he kissed her, taking tiny bites from her mouth, her neck and the creamy curves of her upper breasts. Moving down her body, he kissed the fragrant skin of one inner thigh, tracing his tongue over a small cluster of freckles. “What is that scent?” He breathed deeply, catching the note of lavender and something else. Citrus, maybe?
“Lavender, orange and a hint of cloves.”
“I like it, especially on you.” His lips moved closer to her feminine flesh. Her hips jerked. He smiled against her skin, breathing in her scent. Already her folds glistened, beckoning him to taste. As always he was torn between haste and a leisurely loving. This time speed won out. He buried his tongue in her hot center, feathered his thumb over her nub, delicately teasing while he consumed her. Each moan and twitch he drew from her pushed him harder. He coaxed out another groan and licked her swollen flesh.
“Leo,” she whispered, her hands tugging his wet hair in a silent urge to make her come. “Please.”
Carefully, he closed his mouth around her and sucked. She let out a low moan, her body arching upward and into him. He felt the tiny pulses against his tongue, and before she’d fully relaxed into the mattress, Leo moved and guided his cock into her. He pushed deep and savored her flesh caressing his length. Damn, he liked this part of their marriage. He plunged into her time and again while she held him, murmuring encouragement. A shudder passed through her, and her silken sheath tightened around him. Pleasure grew to a hot, almost painful ache. He kissed her roughly and powered into her with a decisive shove. His muscles locked and he spilled his seed, groaning at the soft, yielding whispers against his ear. For a time, he lost himself in the sensual haze, floating on a cloud of satisfaction.
Finally, he shifted his weight, separating their bodies. He grinned at her. “That was much better than sleeping in my cell.”
“How long is Captain Cartwright intending to keep you locked up?”
“Not for much longer, I hope.”
“I see.” She sat up. “Would you like something else to eat?”
“You don’t usually eat in your room.” Frowning, he pondered her reply as he stood to grab some bread and meat. What did she see? He had a feeling it wasn’t his innocence.
“It’s a special occasion.”
Something in her voice grabbed his attention, warmed him through. “Why?”
“It’s not every day a woman learns she’s going to have a child.”
Leo stared, her words not registering at first. He replayed them in his head. “What did you say?”
“I’m expecting our child.” She grinned at him, clearly delighted. “Are you pleased?”
Joy burst through his chest, broadened his smile. “God, yes!” Leo crossed to her side with three giant steps. He plucked her off the bed to hug her tight. “Are you happy?”
“Oh, yes. I couldn’t be happier. I never thought…I’m very happy, Leo.”