Two weeks later, after being wed by special license, Jo tucked Evie into bed and went to the chamber she now shared with Bran to await his arrival. He’d had a late meeting tonight—House of Lords business—and Jo knew he would need a massage, which would undoubtedly lead to other things.

Not long after she was settled in bed with a book, Bran strode into the chamber, slamming the door behind him. A dark cloud seemed to follow him as he moved farther into the room.

Jo set her book aside and climbed out of the bed. Without a word, she went to him and took his coat and cravat, which he’d already removed. One of the buttons of his waistcoat went flying as he hastily stripped that away as well.

“Bloody Talbot,” Bran growled.

“Oh dear. What happened?” Jo accepted his waistcoat and deposited the garments on a chair. She’d deal with them later or Hudson would in the morning. Right now, she needed to focus on Bran.

Bran sat on the bench at the end of their bed and removed his shoes and stockings. “I simply can’t abide his insipid tone. I’m afraid he pushed me too far. He compared me to John again.”

This had happened a few times—Talbot bringing up Bran’s eldest brother and how it was too bad he couldn’t be the earl. He was careful not to outright insult Bran, but it was offensive nonetheless.

Jo climbed onto the bed and set to massaging his shoulders. He was stiff and tense. “Forget about him.”

Bran grunted in response, hanging his head and allowing his shoulders to droop as she worked. A few minutes later he said, “I may have threatened him.”

Jo lifted her hands and slid from the bed. She sat beside him on the cushioned bench and took his hand while she massaged his bicep. “May have?”

He swung his head about to look at her, his gaze sharp in the firelight. “I told him that if he mentioned John to me again, I’d call him out, and I demanded he show me—the rightful earl—the respect I deserved.”

Pride welled in Jo’s chest along with a bit of anxiety. She knew how Bran struggled to be comfortable in his new role, particularly when he had to interact with people who grated on his nerves. She stroked his cheek. “I doubt he’ll bother you again.”

Bran turned into her touch and kissed her palm. “Never mind him. He’s not worth my thoughts, especially not when I’m finally here with you.” He leaned back against the bed as she returned to massaging his arm. “This has been the longest day.”

Yes, it had. Earlier that afternoon they’d entertained his mother for a brief visit, her first since they’d wed. She’d congratulated them and seemed to focus on the fact that Bran had done well to align himself to a duke, even if it was only by marriage.

“Thankfully, it’s over,” she said, standing and moving to his other side.

He succumbed to her ministrations for another moment before asking, “I’m afraid to inquire, but how did things go with my mother after I left?” He hadn’t wanted to leave Jo alone with the dowager countess, but he’d had an appointment.

“Fine. She left shortly after you.” She’d stayed just long enough to ask Jo if she could bear children given that she’d been married so long without issue. Jo had feared the question, but also expected it.

Bran grunted again as Jo rubbed his elbow. “Good. I made sure you’d be interrupted so she’d leave.”

Bucket had told her that the cook required a meeting. “You were behind that?”

His gaze was alight with mischief when it found hers. “You’re welcome.”

Jo looked down as she worked her fingers into his wrist. “Thank you.”

He pulled his arm from her grip and put his finger beneath her chin, tipping it up. “What did she say? Did she upset you?” His voice held a soft, dangerous quality, but it didn’t frighten her. She was well aware of the lingering animosity he felt toward his mother and perhaps always would.

She considered keeping the truth from him, but she wanted their relationship to be completely honest. Besides, there was no one she would rather confide in. “I’m all right. She asked if I could have children.”

Bran swore softly. “I’ll speak to her.”

Jo shook her head and put her arms around his neck. “There’s no need. I told her that no one could say what the future holds and that if trying accounted for anything, we’d likely give her plenty of grandchildren.”

Bran’s eyes widened and he let out a laugh. His mouth settled into a grin. “Have I told you today how much I adore you?”

“I’m not sure. I’d much rather you show me, however.”

He pulled her over his lap, settling her legs around his hips so she straddled him. He brought his hands up to cup the back of her neck then stroked his fingers through her loose hair. “You know I don’t care if you give me a hundred children or none at all.”

She nodded. They’d discussed it at length, and while she still hoped her dream might come true, she’d accepted that she was already living a life she absolutely cherished. “I’m so sorry I let it be a barrier between us.”

He kissed her, his lips moving artfully over hers. A moment later he said, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. We found our way here, didn’t we?”

She nodded as she kissed him back. When she pulled away, she looked into his eyes and saw the love she felt reflected there. “We found our way home.”