Reforming the Viscount by Annie Burrows - Reforming the Viscount

Author:Annie Burrows - Reforming the Viscount [Burrows, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical Romance
ISBN: 0373297408
Google: sItAZtry4YcC
Amazon: B00BAT1LJE
Goodreads: 17164162
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

It was not as difficult to settle Cissy as she’d feared. She had not slept well for the entire time Lydia had been in London. Relief that she was home, coupled with exhaustion, meant that she was actually quite content to get into bed, with Slipper curled up in his basket on the floor beside her.

It was Marigold who proved fractious. Lydia had to be quite firm in pointing out that very few young ladies of her age were permitted to so much as eat dinner with adult guests, never mind mingling with them for half an hour afterwards. It was only when she threatened to restrict her to the nursery altogether that she ceased arguing and went rather grumpily to bed.

By the time she got to visit Michael’s room, he was already fast asleep. She sat on the edge of his bed, just gazing at him. How she wished she’d come here first, so that she could have kissed him goodnight. She only just managed to prevent herself from brushing his fringe from his forehead. He’d wake up and sit up, and twine his arms round her neck and beg her for a story, and probably a kiss while there was nobody to see. Which she would love. But it would be selfish of her to disturb him now. Tomorrow, though...tomorrow she would arrange her evening better. She would be the one to tuck him in and say his prayers, not his nanny.

He was one reason why she could never regret her marriage. The Colonel had always been kind to her, in his way, but after Michael came...

His delight, both in his son, and in her for presenting him with the boy, had been overwhelming. He’d doubled her allowance. Showered her with gifts. She’d even begun to wonder if he’d started to feel some genuine affection for her. She had never measured up to his first wife, Robert’s mother, of course. No woman on earth could ever compare with her.

But then Maggie had been his first love. And nothing could quite match the strength of feelings experienced in youth, before adversity and experience made people more cynical about the opposite sex. So he’d told her.

‘You should marry again, when I’m gone,’ he’d said, during his last winter, after suffering a debilitating inflammation of the lungs. ‘You are still young and quite lovely, and I have not placed any restrictions on your jointure. No matter what you do, I have made sure you will always be comfortably off, both you and Cissy.’

‘I don’t want to think about it,’ she’d replied, a little uncomfortable about the way he seemed to be trying to plan her future even when he’d gone.

‘Marriage to me put you off for life, is that it?’

‘Not a bit of it,’ she chided him, tucking the rug more firmly round his knees. ‘But I have Cissy to think of. There are not many men with a heart big enough to take her into their home.’

He’d

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