Just for a Night (14 page)

‘Yes, My Lord?' came the answer from the kitchen.

‘Cancel the coffee. Marina and I are going to bed!'

There was only the minutest of hesitations in answering. ‘Very good, My Lord.'

M
ARINA
stood next to her husband in the small stone church, built over nine hundred years ago in Norman times, a far cry from St. Paul's Cathedral, where they'd been privileged enough to be married just over nine months previously.

At least I didn't disgrace myself by having a baby
too
soon after the wedding, she thought, smiling. Little Harry hadn't been conceived till after she'd returned from her trip back to Sydney.

It had taken her just on a month to tie things up in Sydney—slightly longer than the three weeks she'd promised James.

Shane hadn't been too broken-hearted when she'd given him his ring back, especially when it had come with the horses and the business name of the riding school. He
had
been shocked for a split second by her announcement she was going to marry the Earl of Winterborne, because he'd imagined James to be an elderly gentleman. When he'd quickly concluded—with smug predictability—that she was marrying for money, Marina had found herself letting him think so. It had soothed Shane's ego somewhat and amused her to death.

In the end Shane had taken out a bank loan on the
strength of his equity in the horses and riding school and purchased the house and property from Marina, which had meant everyone was happy. But the loan and the exchanging of contracts had taken time.

By the time she'd arrived back in London James had been predictably keen to show her his love in more than words, which he had done over the next week with overpowering passion and at odd times. Marina had been breathless at the chances he took. But when the urge overtook James, he could be very forceful. She would never be able to go into his bank building again without blushing madly.

Marina wondered idly whether Harry had been conceived in the lift between the ninth and tenth floors, or on the boardroom table. She rather fancied the latter, which, after all, had been the scene of many a merger. Though none quite so…exciting. Just thinking about it made Marina's heart beat faster.

Little Harry started to cry at that moment, snapping Marina back to the moment at hand. The vicar had started pouring the holy water over his forehead and Harry was not at all impressed.

Henry clucked and cooed the infant back to sweet silence with all the experience of six weeks being Harry's first emergency nanny, and now his godfather.

Marina leant over towards James. ‘Henry's got a real knack with Harry, hasn't he?' she whispered.

‘You won't be saying that when he starts imbuing him with all those starchy old ideas of his,' he whis
pered back. ‘And when he insists on the boy being sent away to school at the tender age of eight.'

‘A lot you know. Henry and I had a little chat the other morning—around two o'clock, it was—and we both decided Harry wasn't going anywhere for a long, long time.'

James sighed. ‘Between the two of you, I don't think I'm going to have any say at all in the raising of my own son.'

‘You chose his name, didn't you?'

‘I chose Henry. And you promptly changed it to Harry.'

‘Just to save confusion, old chap,' she said with a public school accent, then grinned up into James's startled face. ‘Just being a good Roman.'

‘Whatever am I going to do with you, Marina?'

‘I'll show you tonight. The doctor's given me the green light.'

She loved the sound of her husband's intake of breath, plus the squeezing of her hand. ‘Just in time, too,' he muttered under his breath. ‘There are only so many exercises I can do to take my mind off things. Rebecca says I'm beginning to look like Arnold What's-his-name.'

At the mention of Rebecca, Marina's sparkling eyes shifted from Henry and the baby in his arms to the cute little girl standing next to him in the very feminine apple-green dress, her slender hand on the hem of Harry's long white Christening robe. She had grown so pretty, with her once bald head now covered
in red-gold curls the exact colour of Marina's. The specialists had given her the all-clear some months back, although they would continue to monitor her for some time to come.

‘Look at Rebecca's face,' James whispered when it came to the part where the godparents had to say something. ‘She's so proud to be Harry's godmother. It was a lovely idea of yours to ask her, Marina.'

‘She's like a
real
little mother to Harry. I've never known a child love another child so much.'

‘She told me the other night she wanted you to have at least six babies.'

‘Only six? She told me ten!'

‘Er…I thought I'd better water the number down a little before you got ideas.'

‘Me? Get ideas?'

‘Yes, My Lady,' he whispered drily. ‘Already you've swept through Winterborne Hall like a whirlwind, with your radical Aussie ways, changing my normally sensible staff into doting, drooling idiots after your making all of them part-time nannies to Harry! Now what's this I hear about you converting the gatehouse into a pre-school?'

‘Well, there isn't one for miles and I rather miss teaching, James. I always did like infants better than older children, and I thought this was a way of killing three birds with one stone.'

‘
Three
birds?'

‘Yes. It will provide a valuable service for our children and others in the village. It will prevent my get
ting teacher's itch. And I'll be able to do something with that monstrosity. Brighten it up a bit. Maybe I'll paint it pink.'

‘Pink!'

‘Okay, I'll leave the outside up to you and your sandblasters. But inside there's going to be lots of colours. And I'm going to have a garden and playground out the back. What do you think?'

‘I think you're marvellous.'

‘I mean about the idea, silly.'

‘I think it's marvellous too.'

‘So I have your approval?'

‘Go for your life.'

Her eyes danced up at him as she smothered a laugh.

‘What?' he said. ‘What did I say?'

‘That was a very Aussie expression. You'd better watch it or you won't even be a Roman any more yourself. Now hush up. Henry's frowning at you, Jamie-boy.'

James opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again to smile wryly at his wife.

Marina was smiling herself. With happiness.

Thank you, God,
she prayed, despite not having been brought up to be overly religious. But she'd come to have a great respect for the Almighty since he'd answered her other prayers regarding Rebecca.

Thank you for darling little Harry, who is utterly perfect. Thank you for keeping Aunt Jasmine and Aunt
Janet alive till I found them. They are much nicer than I imagined.

She cast a quick, smiling glance over her shoulder at the two handsome ladies a couple of rows back. They were dripping in diamonds and pearls, and both childless widows in their late fifties, after the elderly titled gentlemen they'd married in their twenties had long passed on. Despite being rich beyond belief, they seemed to be genuinely thrilled at meeting up with their long-lost niece and being drawn into such a happy—and more normal—family environment.

Marina's gaze shifted to the left and she exchanged smiles with Tiffany and her gorgeous Italian. They had been married for just on six months and were divinely happy, especially now that Tiffany was expecting.

Sighing her satisfaction with life in general, Marina turned back to face the front and resume her conversation with the Lord.

Thank you for Henry's continuing good health. And Mildred's. And especially Rebecca's. But most of all thank you for my darling husband, who truly does love me for the person I am and not for any other reason.

‘Amen,' James said, and Marina's head jerked up to stare at him. Goodness, had he read her mind? Seen into her thoughts? She hoped not. Sometimes her thoughts were not quite fit for a husband's consumption.

‘It's over at last,' he explained into her questioning face. ‘The christening.'

‘Oh.' Her eyes swept over her handsome husband and she thought of all those exercises he'd been doing and how marvellous he was looking.

Fervently she added her last prayer.

And please, Lord, please let Harry sleep right through the night tonight!