believe the half of them.” She paused. “Then again, maybe you would, especially if you ever set foot in the club.”
“I visit on occasion, and clearly Adam should keep his mouth shut,” Drake grumbled.
Mallory let out a chortling laugh. “I’ll have to tell him you said so.”
He frowned, casting a quick glance toward the man in question and his other relations to make sure his conversation with Mallory was going unnoticed. Assured it was, he relaxed—slightly.
Only imagine , Drake thought, if I told her the truth—that I was drawing my housekeeper!
A good thing Mallory rarely paid visits to his town house, or she would realize instantly the identity of the mystery woman. But he preferred to leave Mrs. Greenway exactly that—a mystery—along with his interest in her.
“Let us speak of other things,” he said, wanting done with the topic. “I hear felicitations are in order and that I’m to be an uncle again. When is the little one due?”
Mallory flushed in a way that made her cheek glow with happiness and contentment, her curiosity clearly diverted at mention of her impending motherhood.
“It’s probably a tad too soon to be absolutely positive, and Adam wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but December, I think. Assuming I truly am with child—”
“—Which you obviously believe you are,” he said.
Cheeks glowing brighter, she nodded. “Mama is already encouraging Adam and me to stay at Braebourne for my lying-in. But I’d like to have the baby at home, at Gresham Park. I just have a feeling it’s going to be a boy, and I want him born in the place that will one day be his.”
“Well, so long as you’re both healthy afterward, that’s all that matters.”
Smiling, Mallory leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “He’s lucky to have an uncle like you.”
Drake gave a quiet snort. “He’ll have loads of uncles. And cousins. Good Lord, if the lot of you keep producing offspring at the rate you are, we’ll have a cricket team in no time.”
“Apparently Jack has already made mention of the idea. He says his girls should be allowed to play since he knows they’ll beat any of the boys. Knowing Jack—and Grace—I rather suspect he’s right.”
This time, they both grinned.
Not long after, the cackling pronouncements of witches began the play, Adam sliding into his seat on the other side of Mallory. From the corner of his eye, Drake saw them join hands.
Forcing his attention to the players on the stage, he watched the story unfold. By the time the interval arrived, however, he was more than ready to stretch his legs. Offering his excuses, he made his way into the hall, hoping if he went quickly enough, he could make it downstairs to the refreshment tables before he was stopped by an acquaintance wanting to talk. He hadn’t gone ten feet before his hopes disappeared.
“Lord Drake. We were just coming to pay our respects to you and your family,” Richard Manning, Viscount Saxon, said as he extended a gloved hand.
Possessed of a tall, robust frame, the viscount had thick dark hair that was greying heavily along the temples. It gave him a rather distinguished look that complemented his square jaw and long Roman nose. Despite being in his early fifties, the viscount exuded a confident charm that Drake guessed still had the power to attract the ladies.
When they’d been introduced a couple of weeks before at Ava and Claire’s afternoon fête, Drake had learned that Lord Saxon owned a prosperous, well-run estate in Devonshire; that he was a widower, who had lost his wife seven years earlier; and that he was very protective of his only child, Verity, who at nineteen, was making her come-out this Season and her very first trip to London.
Drake had made Miss Manning’s acquaintance at Ava and Claire’s fête as well, finding her a pretty, well-mannered, yet shy young lady. Having been forewarned by his mother that he was already in the offing as a possible suitor for
“I visit on occasion, and clearly Adam should keep his mouth shut,” Drake grumbled.
Mallory let out a chortling laugh. “I’ll have to tell him you said so.”
He frowned, casting a quick glance toward the man in question and his other relations to make sure his conversation with Mallory was going unnoticed. Assured it was, he relaxed—slightly.
Only imagine , Drake thought, if I told her the truth—that I was drawing my housekeeper!
A good thing Mallory rarely paid visits to his town house, or she would realize instantly the identity of the mystery woman. But he preferred to leave Mrs. Greenway exactly that—a mystery—along with his interest in her.
“Let us speak of other things,” he said, wanting done with the topic. “I hear felicitations are in order and that I’m to be an uncle again. When is the little one due?”
Mallory flushed in a way that made her cheek glow with happiness and contentment, her curiosity clearly diverted at mention of her impending motherhood.
“It’s probably a tad too soon to be absolutely positive, and Adam wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but December, I think. Assuming I truly am with child—”
“—Which you obviously believe you are,” he said.
Cheeks glowing brighter, she nodded. “Mama is already encouraging Adam and me to stay at Braebourne for my lying-in. But I’d like to have the baby at home, at Gresham Park. I just have a feeling it’s going to be a boy, and I want him born in the place that will one day be his.”
“Well, so long as you’re both healthy afterward, that’s all that matters.”
Smiling, Mallory leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “He’s lucky to have an uncle like you.”
Drake gave a quiet snort. “He’ll have loads of uncles. And cousins. Good Lord, if the lot of you keep producing offspring at the rate you are, we’ll have a cricket team in no time.”
“Apparently Jack has already made mention of the idea. He says his girls should be allowed to play since he knows they’ll beat any of the boys. Knowing Jack—and Grace—I rather suspect he’s right.”
This time, they both grinned.
Not long after, the cackling pronouncements of witches began the play, Adam sliding into his seat on the other side of Mallory. From the corner of his eye, Drake saw them join hands.
Forcing his attention to the players on the stage, he watched the story unfold. By the time the interval arrived, however, he was more than ready to stretch his legs. Offering his excuses, he made his way into the hall, hoping if he went quickly enough, he could make it downstairs to the refreshment tables before he was stopped by an acquaintance wanting to talk. He hadn’t gone ten feet before his hopes disappeared.
“Lord Drake. We were just coming to pay our respects to you and your family,” Richard Manning, Viscount Saxon, said as he extended a gloved hand.
Possessed of a tall, robust frame, the viscount had thick dark hair that was greying heavily along the temples. It gave him a rather distinguished look that complemented his square jaw and long Roman nose. Despite being in his early fifties, the viscount exuded a confident charm that Drake guessed still had the power to attract the ladies.
When they’d been introduced a couple of weeks before at Ava and Claire’s afternoon fête, Drake had learned that Lord Saxon owned a prosperous, well-run estate in Devonshire; that he was a widower, who had lost his wife seven years earlier; and that he was very protective of his only child, Verity, who at nineteen, was making her come-out this Season and her very first trip to London.
Drake had made Miss Manning’s acquaintance at Ava and Claire’s fête as well, finding her a pretty, well-mannered, yet shy young lady. Having been forewarned by his mother that he was already in the offing as a possible suitor for
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