An Improper Proposal by Cheryl Bolen

Author:Cheryl Bolen [Bolen, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9780821775257
Google: z6hkAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0821775251
Barnesnoble: 0821775251
Goodreads: 2812342
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 2004-02-27T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The children rode in the carriage to Warwickshire with their parents. Bouncing from one seat to the other, Georgette bubbled with comments and questions. “Will my puppy be waiting for me?”

“Your puppy is now a very large dog, I’ve been told,” George answered.

“Even though I was such a wee one, I still remember the purple flowers on the walls in my bedchamber,” the little girl said.

“I expect the same wallpaper will still be there,” Sally replied. “Did you like it, love?”

“Ever so much.”

It suddenly struck Sally that Sam wouldn’t even have a chamber at Hornsby. He had been but a few weeks old when his father fled the house that was filled with Dianna’s memories. Sally glanced up at her husband. “Does the young master have his own chamber at Hornsby?”

“Actually, no,” George said. “He was still with the wet nurse when we came to Bath.”

‘Then we’ll just have to decorate a very special room for him,” Sally said, trying to make it sound exciting and not really knowing how much of what she said could be understood by Sam.

“I daresay he can occupy the room that was mine when I was a lad.”

As was only fitting.

The first hour of the journey through the hilly area around Bath, Sam was content to peer from the window. After that, he grew solemn, climbing upon Sally’s lap and shoving his thumb into his mouth. She held him close and stroked his golden hair. She sensed that he was frightened by the strange new environment.

“Isn’t the lad a bit old to still be sucking his thumb?” George asked.

“George, he’s still a baby.” Sally sent her husband a disapproving glance.

He sighed. “That’s what you keep telling me, but I remember distinctly how very well Georgette spoke when she turned two.”

Sally glared at him. ‘You can’t compare any two children—especially when they’re of a different sex.”

“I’d feel a lot better if he’d only talk,” George lamented.

“He may not talk, but Sam knows everything we say, and I’ll not have you discussing this in front of him again,”

she said in a commanding voice.

George began to chuckle.

“What, pray tell, do you find so amusing?” Sally asked.

“There are those poor, unenlightened souls who think I married a meek litde spinster who jumps through my hoops.

Litde do they know it’s I who do the jumping.”

Sally smiled. At least he didn’t seem bitter. Sally knew she could be rather vexatious.

“Papa?” Georgette said.

“Yes, love?”

“Will my new mama sleep in my other mama’s bedchamber?”

Sally’s pulse quickened. She had forgotten that the vastness of Hornsby Manor allowed for separate chambers for its lord and lady, a realization that displeased her excessively. First, she had no desire to inhabit the room which would most strongly evoke the personality of its previous occupant. But even more disconcerting was the cessation of her special, intimate mornings with her husband. Were they to reside in separate chambers, they would likely never have a private minute together again. She must find a way to ensure there be a time and place where just the two of them would discuss their days.

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