An Arrangement of Sorts (41 page)

They cheered and danced about in victory.

Until…

“What in heaven’s name is going on in here?”

Three suddenly anxious pairs of eyes turned to the new voice, their owners completely still and frozen. The little girl’s wide eyes fixed upon the identical ones of her mother, and then, pointing at the fallen creature, very rapidly said, “Papa-monster kidnapped the Queen and Robin of the Hood saved her and they killed the monster dead.”

Her mother’s eyes twinkled merrily and she tried not to smile. “Oh, well, if that’s all.” She sighed as she looked at the monster in question, now not so very dead and grinning without reservation. “If you have quite finished,” she said with only a touch of scolding, “then perhaps you would like to get your things and go on out to the coach? I don’t think Uncle Spencer and Aunt Caroline would like us to arrive after they have gone to bed. Lizzie, Robbie, come on.”

The children scampered out of the room cheering even more loudly than before.

Moira looked down at her husband, and finally shook her head. “You are the worst of the lot, you know.”

He shrugged, still grinning, and got to his feet. “I just try to keep you on your toes, my lady.”

She rolled her eyes, adjusted the weight of their youngest child, a girl so identical to her mother it was disconcerting, and snorted. “Don’t ‘my lady’ me, your mighty earlship. I had to keep on my toes long before those two came along.”

“Yes, yes, I’m quite the handful, I know,” he sighed, kissing her soundly, then giving an equally sound kiss to the plump cheek of his daughter, who giggled at his actions.

“Yes, you are, and I think I should scold you most severely,” Moira said, still trying to sound firm. “How do you think a trip to Spencer and Caroline’s is going to go with those two so wound up?”

“Down, Mama,” the little girl insisted, pushing away from her, eying the fallen bow with interest.

Moira sighed and set her down, watching as she toddled over and picked it up, studying it intently. “Wonderful,” she groaned. “Now even Charlotte will be roped into their games, and not as another queen.”

“Charlotte can be one of Robin’s merry band if she wants,” Nathan said soothingly, pulling her into his arms. “Robbie would love having someone to follow him around, and it would hardly hurt you to join in once in a while, you know.”

“I do,” she assured him. “Who do think plays with them when you are off being the mighty earl?”

“Why don’t you play when I’m here?” he asked with a mock pout.

“Because I can’t compete with Papa-monster,” she said, smiling at last.

“You’re right. You’re far better.” He kissed her gently, lingering, taking her face in his hands.

“You’re still in trouble, you know,” she whispered as he pulled away.

“After six years of marriage and three children, you still expect me to believe that I cannot kiss my way out of trouble?” he chuckled softly, his lips dancing lightly over her cheeks and down her neck.

“Four,” she corrected with a satisfied smirk. “And no, you cannot.”

Nathan froze and reared back, looking at her in disbelief. “What?”

“You cannot kiss your way…”

“Moira.”

She laughed merrily and planted a quick kiss on his unmoving lips. “Four. Honestly, Nathan, one would think you could count your own children. And we may be able to catch up to Spencer and Caroline now, what with little Nathan being so…”

He clamped a hand over her mouth and gave her a look. “Explain four,” he growled, having learned long ago that the best way to shut his wife up was a physical impediment.

She quirked her brows, and he removed his hand. “Come winter,” she said with a grin, “there will be four, not three.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

With a whoop, he picked her up and swung her around, kissing her and laughing all the while.

“I take it this news pleases you?” Moira laughed once she was returned to the ground.

“It pleases me,” he said, kissing her gently yet again. “I love you.”

She smiled up at him. “I love you.” Then, hearing the boisterous noises of her children, she sighed. “We never have time to ourselves anymore, do we?”

“We have tonight,” he murmured, quirking his brows and flashing a would-be wicked grin.

Shaking her head, she snorted at the blatant suggestion, kissed him once, and stepped away. “We have to go, or we will never get there before nightfall.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, patting her cheek. “Spencer and I grew up at Fairington. Even if we’re late, I know all the secret ways in.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Moira muttered.

Little Charlotte, having seen something she thought she would enjoy far more than her brother’s bow, came back towards her parents. “Me, Papa. Swing me,” she demanded, holding her arms up for him.

He laughed and picked her up, carrying her out to the carriage where the servants and the other two rather anxious children waited. “I’ll swing you, poppet. I’ll swing you all the way to the carriage, and all the way to Uncle Spencer’s, and all the way to London, and…”

Moira shook her head and smiled to herself, unconsciously resting a hand on her not-yet-swollen abdomen. Though all four of those people drove her to distraction, and this new little one would as well, she would not have traded anything in the world for the life she led. Had she ever imagined that her life could be this wonderful?

No, perhaps not. But it made no difference.

Some things in life were so glorious they simply could not be imagined.

“Mama!” her children screamed in unison, no doubt urged on by their father. “Time to go!”

“Coming!” she called, with a laugh, shaking herself from her reverie and walking out to the carriage where her family waited for her, and then they were off on yet another adventure, one of many before and many still to come.