Rosalyn's Ring by Alina K. Field

Author:Alina K. Field
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 0
Published: 2013-07-22T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Hamish spotted the dusty bottoms of two very feminine feet, peeking from the arm of Cook’s appropriately massive armchair.

His father’s rule was that a thin cook could not be any good, and this one was massively fat. She was also marvelous with the good, plain cooking his father had liked. Hamish liked good and plain, too, and he liked the cook, and he knew these were not the bulbous feet she squeezed into her clogs. His body thought these feet were the most seductive pair he had ever encountered, which told him to whom they belonged. He crept up to the waning fire and turned squarely to the woman in the chair.

And caught his breath. Her eyes were closed, her hair tumbling from its ties, and her cheeks blooming in the fire’s warmth, as rosy as the cheeks of the baby she cradled, which must be Logan’s unless she had concealed one in her valise. She wore a heavy velvet dressing gown over a blessedly loose-necked nightrail that revealed creamy white skin and the dip of her collarbone.

A Highland Madonna with child, asleep by the stable fire. He longed to be her Joseph, though he would pass on the perpetual virginity.

Hamish chuckled and crossed himself. Her eyes fluttered, rolled around a bit, and opened wide.

“Oh heavens.” She dropped her feet, slid them awkwardly into a pair of slippers, and straightened in the chair, careful not to disturb the baby.

“Does Mindy know you have her child?”

“Mrs. Sullivan is ill,” she said in a gravelly, sleepy voice. “Really, sir, do you expect her to run the house, fetch fuel and water and food, and watch a baby all night?”

“No. And I did not ask it of her either.” That had been Logan, he assumed, anxious for an undisturbed honeymoon. “In my defense, though, Rosalyn, she has the maid and footman to do the fetching and carrying. But I thank for your nanny services. You and the child will be far more comfortable in the Rose Bedchamber.”

“It is too cold.”

“It will be too cold here soon. The fire is dying down.”

Rosalyn glanced at the fire and moved to stand.

“Leave it,” he said. “I have a better solution.” He picked up a shawl that had slipped from her shoulders and draped it around her, without withdrawing his arm. “Come, my lady. I will make sure you are warm tonight.”

She mulishly balked, but he steered her along, up the stairs, down a hallway, through two sets of doors, and into his library.

A smallish room, but it had been good enough for the born-to-the-manor Baron, and that had made it good enough for Hamish’s father.

For Viscount Cathmore, it lacked sufficient shelving for his many books, but it was a problem easily solved by designating another salon or drawing room as a library. Hamish had not thought much about it. The problem was best left to a steward, or a housekeeper. Or a wife.

He’d had a fire laid in this room, in case he’d wanted to read.

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