"I must say you missed quite a do. Never seen the likes."

Phillip shook his head at how much a man's life could change in a matter of months. Roberta's parties had always been his favorites in the past. Somehow this year, nothing she'd offered as entertainment enticed him in the least.

Laughter and the sound of splashing water trickled up through the trees as they passed the spot where Phillip had interrupted Jane's picnic in the middle of the summer. What a jealous, insecure, pompous ass he'd been that day! If Jane had never spoken to him again, he'd have deserved the punishment.

Morris reined his horse to a halt when he heard the female laughter and chatter. He recognized Emily's voice right away and had to see what she was about. All summer he had stayed away from his properties, hoping distance would temper his desire for the girl, but it hadn't worked.

With hardly a glance at Wessington, Morris walked his horse through the trees. Phillip followed, realizing belatedly that the voices they heard belonged to Jane and Emily. Across the meadow, mother and daughter frolicked and splashed in the cool water, oblivious to being watched from afar. Their undergarments were soaked and clinging to their skins.

Still on their horses, the two men were far enough away so that neither could view anything unseemly. The pair they watched looked like forest sprites caught in an afternoon of play. Phillip gazed at Jane, knowing every curve and valley, and thinking her breasts looked slightly bigger, her stomach paunched the tiniest bit His pulse fluttered as he wondered if she might be increasing and neither of them had realized it yet. Who would ever have imagined he'd find himself excited about such a possibility?

Without giving a thought to Morris sitting next to him, he whispered, "My Lord, she's beautiful."

Morris surveyed the same scene, but saw a very different actress in the lead rolea"Emily, with her flat chest and body that looked like a young boy's. He was hard as a poker. Hardly meaning to speak aloud, he agreed with Wessington. "Yes, she is. I can't wait."

The passion in Morris's statement brought Phillip's head swinging around. Thinking at first that he was talking about Jane, Phillip nearly made a nasty comment until he realized that Morris's gaze was fixed on Emily, and if Phillip was seeing what he thought he was seeing, the man was completely aroused. The way he was eyeing her enraged Phillip as nothing had in years.

Reining his horse toward the lane, he said, "Come back up to the road."

"What?" Morris asked, completely distracted by the girl in the water.

"I said, 'Come back up to the road.' " When the thick idiot continued to look, Phillip said angrily, "Morris, you're staring at my naked wife and child."

Morris wanted to keep looking at Emily. Seeing her like this only fueled the sick desire that raged through his veins day and night. The craving was growing out of control again, and it had been over a month since he'd managed to assuage some of it at his favorite brothel in London. There were always plenty of children in the city ready to do anything for food and shelter; he took advantage of that as often as he could. But the young whores couldn't satisfy him completely. Even though he always selected the brunette ones and pretended they were Emily, Emily was the child he wanted, and he intended to have her.

He wanted to go down to the water and join her. To play next to her, finding an excuse to touch her in her secret places, using the water as a shield. The thought of it was a delicious agony, but something in the Earl's tone brought him back to reality, and he forced his attentions away from the stream. "My apologies. I didnat mean to appear rude."

"Of course not," Phillip muttered sarcastically. Once they were back on the road, the two females safely shielded by the trees, he looked Morris in the eye. "I've meant to tell you for some time now that I'm not ready for Emily to marry. She's much too young."

Morris couldn't believe what he was hearing. After all the years he'd waited! He hated the whine in his voice when he said, "But she's almost twelve."

"Yes. Almost. And much too young to wed."

"When, then?" Morris asked, trying to control his temper but hardly succeeding. He felt cheated, tricked. Played for a fool.

"Oh, I suppose when she's eighteen or nineteen. After she's had a Season or two in London."

"But I can't wait that long!"

"I wouldn't expect you to wait." Letting a moment of silence play out, Phillip added, "Even if you were still interested in a few year's time, I'd never agree."

Two angry red splotches appeared on Morris's cheeks. "You've raised my hopes. I've been patient so long, and now you've ruined everything."

"I'm certain you'll find someone else interested in your money."

"I'll raise my offer."

Phillip shook his head in disgust More and more, he'd been thinking that he'd spent the past few years viewing the world through some kind of fog which was only recently beginning to clear. "Just go, Morris. And don't come back. I don't want to see you showing your face 'round here again."

From behind the line of trees, Morris clearly heard Jane's voice. She was the cause of all this. Before she'd come along, everything had been going smoothly. Margaret had had the contract in Wessington's hand. Possession of Emily had been only a signature away. Jane Wessington had ruined everything, and he'd get even if it was the last thing he ever di. "You'll be sorry," he muttered, bringing his horse around with a furious jerk and starting back toward the main road. "You'll be bloody sorry."

Jane had not noticed Phillip or Morris until Phillip turned his horse and practically dragged Morris through the trees. Her heart had nearly stopped beating when she'd seen the dreaded neighbor sitting so comfortably beside her husband. She thought she knew Phillip's dunking these days, but did she really?

Unfortunately, Emily had heard the same commotion and had looked around in time to see the two men.

"My birthday is in three weeks," she finally mentioned, so softly that Jane barely heard her.

Of late, Phillip seemed so taken with the girl that Jane couldn't believe he'd consider doing anything to hurt her. "He won't do tins, Emily."

"You don't know that," she insisted with a wisdom far beyond her years. "He's been different for the past few weeks, so you think he's changed. It doesn't mean he has."

"He has changed, Emily. He loves us in his way."

"Maybe ... or maybe not. Maybe, he's just passing his time until he finds something better to do."

"Who told you that?" Jane tried to sound outraged, but she couldn't quite manage it. With a very guilty conscience, she'd often wondered the same thing in the small hours of the night as he lay sleeping next to her.

"I hear things." She shrugged. "Everyone's saying it They just don't talk about it in front of you, because it would hurt your feelings."

Jane grabbed both Emily's hands and squeezed. "He will not do this to you. Or to me. I swear it."

Without responding, Emily pulled her hands away and walked out into the water. Jane followed, and they were both standing thigh deep when they heard a horse's hooves coming across the meadow. Phillip trotted up to their blankets and dismounted. Their clothing, discarded quickly, lay around in piles. They were both silent as he approached the water's edge.

"Is this a private swim party, or may anyone join you?" Without waiting for an answer, he tugged off his boots and waded in. They were both eyeing him suspiciously, and he might have laughed if they hadn't both been trembling; Jane with fury, Emily with fear. What agony he must have put the girl through all these long months.

Jane finally spoke. "What did Morris want?"

"He wanted to find out if I was going to allow him to marry Emily." Both females shrank back from him. In the past, he'd always held himself aloof from emotional outpourings, thinking them unseemly and beneath his exalted state. Now, at seeing both in such obvious distress, their reactions hurt him. He never wanted to see either of them looking at him like that again. He smiled, and said, "But I sent him packing. I told him I thought his feelings for Emily were inappropriate and I didnat want him ever showing his morbid face 'round our property again. Ever."

Jane finally took a breath. "Really?"

"Of course, really, you silly goose."

"Oh, Phillip, oh .. . Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." Trying to run, but unable to in the deeper water, she took a few sluggish steps.

Phillip met her halfway and drew her into his arms. Over her head, he could see Emily still trembled a few feet beyond. He held out his hand, but she didnat move to take it.

"You really sent him away?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. Forever. He'll never bother you again."

With that extra measure of reassurance, she fairly leaped out of the water in one astonishing movement, landing with her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. She started planting endless kisses across his cheeks and neck, her tears splashing down his chest. "Thank you, Father. Oh, thank you, thank you . . ."

The weight of her and of Jane, the two embracing and pulling on him, caused him to lose his balance, and he tumbled down into the cool stream, gritting his teeth against the frigid dunking. As they hit the water, it absorbed Emily's weight, and he bounced her on his thighs. The action raised the leg of her drawers, baring a good portion of her leg. Jane reached down, stroking the girl's skin, grabbing his attention with her eyes.

He looked down to where her fingers traced a delicate line on the inside of Emily's knee. The sign of infinity A perfect copy of the one on his own leg. His eyes widened in shock, and his mind whirled with the implications of the silent message she was sending.

"How long have you known?" he mouthed, nodding toward the mark.

"I just saw it a few minutes ago myself."

Emily was his child! What a fool he'd been for listening to Anne's hateful words telling him the babe had been sired by another. All of Emily's life, he'd held her at arm's length because of it. To think of all that had been lost because of Anne's treachery.

He pulled Emily so tightly against his chest that it was likely she couldn't draw breath, but he didnat care. "I'm sorry, my beautiful girl, I'm so sorry."

Emily sensed that some monumental event had just occurred, but she had no idea what it was. She hugged him back. "It's all right, Father. Really it is."

"I've been such a fool. The biggest fool in the whole world. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course, I forgive you, Father." She looked over at Jane, her confusion evident.

Jane knelt in the water, silently watching the pair. Her husband, her daughter. Her family. Her life. For the remainder of her years, she wanted to remember everything about this moment. How the stream trickled over the rocks. How the birds chirped in the trees. How the horse munched on the sweet grass along the bank. How the sun warmed her skin.

Two identical faces stared at her, identical looks of bewilderment raising their identical brows. Together, they reached for her; she opened her arms and leaned into them, whispering, "What a wonderful, wonderful day!"

Chapter Twenty-Five.

Jane looked out at the rainy November afternoon. The sun-filled days of late October were only a memory now, and winter had set upon the land with full force. She supposed she should be downstairs with the other guests, socializing, but there were only so many minutes in the day that she could stand to chat with unknown women who were determined to carry their discussions no further than the topics of needlework and fashion.

While others were playing, she had several estates to run. Even though they were away from home, on their first official visit as husband and wife, she couldn't let too many hours pass without working. Phillip teased her, but he understood. She thrived on making herself useful, and keeping busy made her happy. Already, with her steady attentions to his vast properties and investments, his personal fortune was growing, but, along with increased prosperity, came increased responsibilities. The tasks were endless, but she didnat mind.

They were staying at a duke's estate just outside London. Their host's daughter's engagement ball was to be a magnificent social event, one attended by several hundred of the upper crust of Society, so of course, Phillip had been invited. The Duke and his father had been lifelong friends.

Jane hadn't been surprised when he'd showed her the invitation and said he'd like to attend. After all, before they'd met, his life had revolved around the London social scene, and he'd sheltered himself at Rosewood for months, passing up invitations to dozens of gatherings. She could understand his desire to get about again. What had surprised her was the fact that he wanted her and Emily to join him.

Jane had agreed reluctantly, hating to leave Rosewood, and dreading the fact that she'd be back among the wealthy, bored members of the peerage whom she'd so disliked when marrying in the city the previous spring. She relented because she knew Emily needed to broaden her horizons and because Phillip seemed so excited by the prospect of the trip that she couldn't say no.

Their first two days at the Duke's home had passed quickly. Emily had been befriended by several girls and was having the time of her life. Phillip was seeing old friends, and she found herself fascinated by this side of him she'd not seen before. For her part, her fears about attending had proved to be unfounded. As the wife of a well-known and well-liked nobleman, she was treated with deference and respect If anything, she felt herself a great curiosity, the woman who had lured the notoriously single Wessington into matrimony.

With minimal effort, she forced her attention back to the letters in front of her. She'd brought the stack from home, not having time to go through it before they'd left. The third letter brought her sitting up straight, and the movement exacerbated the recurring pain in her lower back. She rubbed a hand over the spot as her eyes scanned the contents of the letter, and she could barely stifle a gurgle of laughter. Behind her, the door to their suite opened, and Jane knew, without looking, that her husband had entered.

Phillip watched Jane, sitting at the desk in front of the window, her papers scattered about. The day's light was just fading, and she was silhouetted by the lamplight. Her hair glowed with red highlights, her graceful form cast distinct shadows on the wall. As always, while catching her so silently absorbed in some project or other, he couldn't help thinking how perfectly lovely she was. The fact that she was rubbing her back again instantly caught his attention.

He stepped behind her and placed a tender kiss on her exposed shoulder. "What has you sitting here, chuckling to yourself?"

Holding up a folded sheet, she opened it for his inspection. "Look who's written."

"Gregory?" He raised a questioning brow. "What the devil does he want?"

"Well, he rambles on and on, but as near as I can decipher, he can't seem to get the import business going, and the Shipworks is late on a contract. And would I like to come home for a spell to help out?"

"Cheeky bastard, isn't he?" He scanned the contents, then tossed the letter on the table. Scooping Jane off the chair, he seated himself and lowered her onto his lap. "I hope you're going to tell me that you're prepared to watch him cook in his own soup."

"Well, I had thought we might let him stew for a time. Then, perhaps we might offer to buy the import business."

Phillip shrugged, considering. "We could move it to London. Purchase some older warehouses and fix them up."

"My thinking exactly." More and more, their minds walked the same path.

"Sounds like we could get it at a good price." Jane chuckled at that. "Perhaps we should offer for the Ship-works as well."

"Now, that's a grand idea. I'll start working on some figures."

She reached for her pen, as though intending to start that very minute, which caused Phillip to laugh and still her hand with his own. "Not this moment, my dear countess. We've a party to attend." Phillip stroked a hand across the small of her back. "I saw you rubbing this when I came in. Is it hurting you again?"

"Just slightly."

With one hand on her back, he moved the other to caress the front of her chest, his fingers cupping the bottom of one breast and then the other. In turn, he lifted each slightly, testing weight and size, then slid up to likewise measure the nipples. As always, they sprang to immediate attention.

Loving the feel of his hands on her breasts, she tipped her head back and, for her effort, received a gentle kiss on the mouth. "What's your verdict, kind sir?"

"They're definitely bigger. Fuller." He massaged her breasts again. "And your nipples ..." To prove his point, he tugged at the bodice until one of the rosy tips sprang free, allowing him to trace it with the end of his finger. "Absolutely wider, longer. A deeper shade of red."

She twisted at his merciless ministrations. "I think they're more sensitive, also."

"Are they? I'd better check." He lowered his head, sucking the elongated tip, taking it deep inside, wetting and tickling it with his tongue. As Jane arched her back, offering more of herself, he chuckled. "Yes, I'd say they're much more sensitive."

"Do you truly think I'm increasing?" They'd been having the discussion for days.

"I told you, I've thought so for several weeks."

"But I don't feel much different." This wasn't entirely accurate. She became exhausted easily, seemed tired all the time, had a nagging backache and headache, grew more and more nauseous around food and odors, and couldn't shake the uncontrollable feeling that something miraculous had recently occurred.

"When we get to London, I'm sending for a midwife. We'll find out the truth."

"Are you sure you want to know?" The words were out before she could pull them back.

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

She shook her head and looked out the window. "No reason. I misspoke."

"Look at me." With a finger to her chin, he turned her back to face him. "You think I wouldn't want our child?"

One corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, and she leaned closer, resting her breasts against his chest, her lips nearly touching his own. "I'm just a little frightened by the whole idea. I'm being silly, I know."

"Listen to me now, Jane. I can't imagine anything more wonderful than you carrying my child."

He looked so sincere that her heart eased a little. "What if we have a girl?"

"I hope we have a dozen girls. With your green eyes and Emily's spunk."

More and more, he always seemed to say just the right thing. She kissed him along the cheek till she found his mouth, overcome with the need to show him how much she cared about him. With nimble fingers, she worked at the front of his breeches. He was instantly hard and pulsing.