Hawk said, “He has Frances’ eyes, Father.”
“Just so, my boy,” said the marquess, “just so.”
Frances shook her head, imagining the look on her husband’s face.
She smiled up at Sophia as she unfastened her gown and put Charles to her breast.
“He is a beautiful child, Frances.”
“Yes, he is.”
“I thought that Hawk was going to box the doctor’s ears. He was in a state, my dear.”
“He always is,” said Frances, grinning. “What do you hear from Clare?”
“She is studying with Mr. Turner, a most unexpected honor for her. What is even more of a surprise, her husband most heartily approves.”
“I always believed Daniel to be a prize catch, and a most reasonable man,” said Frances.
Sophia’s eyes twinkled. “He is also beginning to believe himself much beleaguered, my dear. Viola is driving him wild with all her beaux. He complains that he is forever stumbling over her lapdogs, as he calls the young gentlemen. Of course, Adelaide merely smiles in that unconcerned way of hers.”
“You must tell Daniel that Adelaide will see that Viola’s lapdogs do nothing improper.” Frances stroked the black fuzz on top of her small son’s head. “Daniel will survive all Viola’s machinations.” she added.
Sophia shook her head. “When I think that Hawk could have possibly chosen Viola! Dear heavens, what a mismatch that would have been. Even more appalling is the thought of Hawk marrying Clare!”
“The marquess firmly believes in fate, Sophia. It is his august opinion that no matter my disguise or lack of one, I would have ended up with my husband. I wonder if that is true.”
Sophia chuckled. “All I can remember is wanting to throttle you, Frances!”
“Then you can imagine how Hawk feels upon occasion. It infuriates him when Otis and Mrs. Jerkins always side with me.”
“You are happy, are you not, Frances?”
“More than I could ever have imagined,” Frances said fervently, shifting her small son to her other breast. “And you, my little darling, will indeed be a great horseman. You do have my eyes, don’t you?” Frances raised her own sparkling eyes to her stepmother’s face. “I forgot to tell you, Sophia, but we are going to Ascot in two weeks.” She continued, her eyes lighting with anticipation. “Flying Davie is running, of course, as is Tamerlane.”
“I was most surprised to hear that Lord Delacort gave you the racer as a sort of belated wedding present.”
“I wasn’t,” said Frances in a droll voice. “I believe if the marquess would allow it, Lord Delacort would adopt Hawk. He visits often now. With poor Mr. Timmons in tow, of course.”
Sophia chuckled. “I understand from Hawk that you correspond with Amalie.”
“Yes indeed. She and her Robert are doing quite well with the farm.” Frances paused, sighing a bit. “It is odd, but I normally don’t remember all that awfulness. —Edmund killing himself, and Lord Dempsey shot whilst trying to escape from Mr. Uckley. I feel so sorry for Beatrice.”
“You wouldn’t, not any longer, my love, if you had seen her in London two weeks ago. Quite the belle, you know. Scandals are forgotten, particularly when the Countess of Rutherford runs off with her head groom! Now, that was most titillating!”
“Frances, come along, will you?”
She looked up to see her husband standing in the doorway, his eyes fastened on her suckling son. She gave him her special smile, and Sophia quickly rose.
“Why do you not keep her company, Hawk, and I shall entertain the gentlemen downstairs.”
“Well, Frances? How much are you going to feed that hungry little beggar?” He sat down beside her on the sofa.
“He is as you are, my lord,” she said primly. “As Sophia said, a male, no matter his size, doesn’t change. He simply becomes more so.”
“Well, perhaps a bit more so, but his, er, preferences do shift,” Hawk said. “Incidentally, Lyonel is here to pay his respects to the heir. His Great-Aunt Lucia is with him.”
“No wonder you escaped up here!”
“You are right about that,” he said fervently. “She was readying to turn her cannon on me, and Lyonel—blast him—was egging her on.”
Charles sent a blurry look toward his father and burped.
“That is one thing he excels in,” Frances said, lifting him over her shoulder.
“The major thing I excel in is denied me,” Hawk said on a mournful sigh.
“You are a randy goat, my lord!”
“Frances,” her husband said in a wounded voice, “your mind travels most improper roads. I was thinking about riding with you, of course.”
“Riding?” she asked, a brow arched.
“That too,” Hawk said, and kissed her laughing mouth.
Titles by Catherine Coulter
The Bride Series
THE SHERBROOKE BRIDE
THE HELLION BRIDE
THE HEIRESS BRIDE
THE SCOTTISH BRIDE
PENDRAGON
MAD JACK
THE COURTSHIP
The Legacy Trilogy
THE WYNDHAM LEGACY
THE NIGHTINGALE LEGACY
THE VALENTINE LEGACY
THE WILD BARON
THE OFFER
THE DECEPTION
The Viking Novels
LORD OF HAWKFELL ISLAND
LORD OF RAVEN’S PEAK
LORD OF FALCON RIDGE
SEASON OF THE SUN
The Song Novels
WARRIOR’S SONG
FIRE SONG
EARTH SONG
SECRET SONG
ROSEHAVEN
THE PENWYTH CURSE
The Magic Trilogy
MIDSUMMER MAGIC
CALYPSO MAGIC
MOONSPUN MAGIC
The Star Series
EVENING STAR
MIDNIGHT STAR
WILD STAR
JADE STAR
Other Regency Historical Romances
THE COUNTESS
THE REBEL BRIDE
THE HEIR
THE DUKE
LORD HARRY
Devil’s Duology
DEVIL’S EMBRACE
DEVIL’S DAUGHTER
Contemporary Romantic Thrillers
FALSE PRETENSES
IMPLUSE
BEYOND EDEN
FBI Suspense Thrillers
THE COVE
THE MAZE
THE TARGET
THE EDGE
RIPTIDE
HEMLOCK BAY
ELEVENTH HOUR