In the Prince’s Bed by Sabrina Jeffries (1)

Epilogue

In her recently refurbished dressing room at Edenmore, Katherine frowned at her reflection in the new pier glass, the one that could show her entire form from head to toe. Perhaps she should have had it installed after her first child was born.

Then she wouldn’t have to see herself in her chemise, looking like an olive on a stick, even at only five months along. What would she look like at nine months—a skewered melon? Surely that would test even Alec’s insistence that she grew more beautiful by the day.

The door to her bedchamber opened, and her mother strolled in, already as comfortable at Edenmore as if it were her own home. She’d brought the children with her for this visit, probably so Katherine’s new servants could look after them.

Katherine rubbed her belly with a smile. Funny how things like that didn’t bother her anymore.

“Are you all right?” her mother asked.

“I’m fine, Mama.”

Her mother led her to sit at the dressing table. “Then why are you standing, my angel? You mustn’t risk any harm coming to his lordship’s heir.”

Katherine smothered a laugh. “It could be a girl, you know.”

“Then you’ll try again,” her mother said soothingly.

They would be trying again no matter what—and most enjoyably. “I can’t sit right now. I have to dress. Lord Draker and his sister could be here any minute.”

Her mother lifted her eyes heavenward. “Your husband and his scurrilous friends. I suppose Lord Draker isn’t so bad, and it’s very good of you to offer to bring his sister out in society. But I shall never like Mr. Byrne.”

“I don’t know—I have a certain fondness for him.” Part of her liked to think that he’d pointed Alec toward her not only to get his money, but because he thought them well suited. Of course, Mr. Byrne would ruthlessly deny such an accusation since he preferred to consider himself very wicked.

Like her husband. She smiled again as she stared down at her belly.

“Well,” Mama said, “I suppose it’s worth putting up with his lordship’s friends to be a countess. But you really will have to speak to your husband about his pesky habit of riding out to the barley fields. That’s no place for a gentleman.”

“Is that where he is now?”

“He was. He rode into the new stables a few minutes ago, all sweaty.” She shuddered. “I saw him out the window and came to warn you. Though he did look very pleased with himself.”

“I’m so glad. He’s had high hopes for that new strain of barley, and I know he wanted to be able to boast of it to Lord Draker when his lordship arrives.”

“If you aren’t careful, your husband will become one of those odd fellows who spends all his time at sheep-shearings and harvests.”

Better that than spending it like Papa, with his mistresses and his gambling. “That’s not very likely. Mr. Dawes will have the estate well in hand soon enough. And then Alec can do what he really wants.”

“Return to London society?” Mama said hopefully. She was still waiting to make her grand debut as mother of a countess.

“Breed horses.” Lusitanos and Suffolk punch horses, to be exact.

“He’s buying more horses? But you already have several,” her mother protested.

Katherine laughed. “My husband seems to think one can never have too many. And once he starts with his horses, you can forget about London.”

Which she wouldn’t mind in the least—she loved their life in the country. And once the baby was born, Alec said he’d teach her some riding tricks. Though the only time he’d tried, they’d ended up making love in the stables instead of riding.

She smiled down at her belly. “I wonder how big a pony your papa will buy for you, little angel?” she mused aloud.

“Angels don’t need ponies,” a male voice teased from behind them. “They have wings.”

The glimpse Katherine caught of him in the tiny dressing table mirror was enough to make her heart swell with love. She turned on the stool to flash him a smile.

He answered it with a grin as he strolled into the room. “And here are two more angels, both looking lovely as usual.”

Mama gave a girlish giggle. “Oh, go on with you, my lord.” She headed for the door. “But I know when I’m not wanted. You young lovers are all the same.” She paused in the doorway. “I did want to ask, however…Bridget is in dire need of a new pair of shoes, and there’s—”

“Will fifty pounds cover whatever you and the children need?” Alec asked, knowing exactly how this worked.

“Oh, yes, my lord, thank you, my lord,” she gushed, before sailing from the room with a smile on her face.

Katherine laughed. “You are such a soft touch.”

He looked rueful as he walked up and bent to kiss her forehead. “It’s really your money, you know.”

“For now,” she said tenderly. “But if your barley harvest is as fine as it looks to be, and your horse-breeding efforts are successful, we will soon have money of our own.”

When his face lit up, she knew she’d chosen exactly the right thing to ease his pride. “Wait till you see the fields, sweetheart. Dawes says the barley has grown beyond his expectations. Next year we’ll plant all the fields with it, and then—” He broke off. “But that’s not what I came to tell you.”

“Oh?”

Something dropped on the table behind her, startling her. Alec bent to brush her ear with his lips. “It’s your turn to choose, sweetheart. Last time I chose.”

She turned to stare longingly at The Rake’s Rhetorick. “We can’t. Lord Draker might arrive with his sister any minute. We’re planning her debut, you know.”

“She’s waited this long for it; she can wait a few minutes more.”

“A few minutes, hah! The last time we tried a position from the Rhetorick, it took us half an hour to achieve it.”

He slid his hand inside her bodice to fondle her breast. “Ah, but it was a blissful half hour.”

She sucked in a breath as his touch sparked fires. Even carrying his child hadn’t curbed her craving for him. With a smile, she rose to slide her arms about his neck. “You’re incorrigible, husband of mine.”

“No more than you.” Eyes gleaming, he swept his hot gaze down her. “As I recall, you also found the Swooping Eagle position blissful.”

She stared up into the face of the man she loved more each day. “Yes, but I’m not so limber these days.”

He grinned. “All right.” Taking her by surprise, he lifted her onto the dressing table. “Then we’ll have to use a position I created.”

As he dragged her chemise up her legs, she couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, and what is this called? The Dressing Table Dip? The Rakehell’s Rocking Chair?”

He gazed at her with a warmly tender look. “I call it Iversley in Love.”

“Ah, that one,” she whispered as she gave herself up to his embrace. “I do so love the old favorites.”