The Magic of You (2 page)

“But—but I thought it was only Nick’s wife, Reggie, whom they took such a personal interest in. They didn’t bother with Amy’s older sisters, Clare and Diana.”

“Clare didn’t attract rakehells like you, Percy, so it was safe not to worry about her. And Uncle Edward approved of Diana’s first choice, which was why she was married so soon after her own come-out. Unlike Reggie, they both had a father to see to their welfare, so the uncles didn’t feel they had to get involved.”

Percy perked up upon hearing that. “Well, then, I’ll just get Lord Edward’s approval, and that’ll be the end of it, won’t it?”

“Don’t count on it. Unlike Clare and Diana, Amy looks too much like Reggie for Tony and James not to keep a close eye on her, just as they did with Reggie before she married Nick. Habit, you know.” Derek suddenly grinned, giving Jeremy a look. “Gad, did you see their faces tonight? Bowled ’em both over, she did. Don’t think I’ve ever seen your father rendered speechless.”

Jeremy chuckled. “I have, but you’re right. Guess I should have warned him.”

“
And
me,” Derek reiterated.

Jeremy quirked a brow in a perfect simulation of one of his father’s affectations and said baldly, “Didn’t think you were that dense not to notice Amy’s grown up. M’father’s got the excuse of a new wife who keeps him utterly distracted, but what’s your excuse?”

“I rarely see the chit,” Derek said in his defense. “You’re the one she calls on to squire her about whenever you’re down from school, not I.”

With what looked like a serious argument coming on, Percy thought to volunteer a suggestion. “Be happy to take over that chore if the need arises.”

“Be
quiet
, Percy,” both cousins said automatically.

But Derek was the first to recall that they’d been trying to dissuade Percy from his unexpected interest in young Amy, so he quickly got back to the subject that would hopefully head Percy off, asking Jeremy, “But Uncle James
was
surprised, wasn’t he, at the change in Amy?”

Jeremy got the point. “Oh, aye. Heard Father sigh before he told Tony, ‘Here we go again.’”

“What’d Uncle Tony say to that?”

Jeremy chuckled, recalling the scene he’d witnessed. “What you might expect. ‘I’ll leave it to you, old man, since you’ve got nothing better to do now that you can only
sleep
in your bed at night.’”

Percy found that amusing and laughed. Derek, on the other hand, actually blushed. They’d both caught the meaning, since James Malory’s young wife, Georgina, happened to be very,
very
pregnant at the moment, and was in fact expected to deliver her burden within the week. Jeremy had already confided to Derek
that George’s doctor had warned her husband to keep his hands to himself for the time being. Derek had blushed then, too, but the plain fact was that the first time he’d met his uncle’s new wife had been outside a tavern near the docks, when she’d run right into his arms, and he’d had every intention of seeing she ended up in his bed that night—until Jeremy informed him that it was his new aunt he was trying to seduce.

The present subject, however, had Percy sitting up in surprise, since it only just occurred to him to ask, “I say, would that be why your father’s got his name back in the betting book over at White’s?”

As he’d asked the question of Jeremy, the lad replied, “Ain’t heard that he’s placed any wagers.”

“Not him,” Percy clarified. “They’re betting
on
him, that he’ll start, or be directly responsible for, no less than three fights by the end of the week.”

At that Jeremy started laughing his head off. Derek remarked in annoyance, “It ain’t
that
funny, Jeremy. When Uncle James gets in a fight, the poor victim doesn’t usually walk away. My friend Nick found that out firsthand, and nearly missed his wedding to our Reggie because your father laid him up in bed for a week.”

Jeremy sobered, because good old Nick had landed his father in jail for that thrashing, and
it was a time when tempers were high that he’d as soon forget.

Percy, unaware that he’d stirred up some unpleasant memories for the cousins, wanted to know, “But that
is
why your father’s in such a rotten mood, ain’t it, because he and Georgie can’t—you know?”

“Actually,” Jeremy replied, “that ain’t got a thing to do with it, Percy. M’father knew he’d have to abstain for a while. Didn’t his brother Tony just go through the same thing not two months ago? No, what’s got him lacerating everyone within spitting distance is the letter George got from her brothers last week. Seems they’re all coming back for the birthing, and could show up any day now.”

“Good God!” Derek and Percy exclaimed at once.

Derek added, “No wonder he bit my head off yesterday for no good reason.”

Percy said, “I’ve never seen a man dislike his in-laws as much as James Malory does that particular bunch from America he’s got.”

And Derek added again, “He even likes them less than he does old Nick, and he’s
never
liked Nick.”

“Exactly,” Jeremy said. “It’s all George can do to keep them from each other’s throats when they’re in the same room together.”

They were all exaggerating—a trifle. The truth was, James had made semi-peace with his brothers-in-law before they sailed back to
America, but he hadn’t
liked
doing it, had only done it for Georgina’s sake—and only because he’d thought he’d be seeing the last of them.

They weren’t
all
so terrible, those Americans. Derek and Jeremy had even taken the two younger Anderson brothers out on the town with them while they were in London. And they’d gotten along famously, at least with Drew Anderson, who was the devil-may-care brother. Boyd, the youngest, had been too serious-minded to enjoy himself as much as the rest of them had. But it was one brother in particular whom James really objected to, the one who’d been all for hanging James when they had him at their mercy in America last year. That one James was never going to like, no matter what.

“I’m bloody well glad I won’t be living in your household this coming month,” Derek remarked to Jeremy.

Jeremy shot his cousin a grin. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s going to be damned interesting around there, if you ask me. I for one don’t intend to miss a single minute of it.”

Chapter 2

Across London in the newly purchased town house in Berkeley Square, Georgina and James Malory had mutually agreed to set aside the subject of the impending arrival of her brothers, at least for the remainder of the night, since it was a subject neither of them could agree on, and it was doubtful they ever would. In all fairness, Georgina understood her husband’s sentiments. After all, her brothers had trounced him thoroughly and locked him in a cellar. The angriest of the lot, Warren, would have cheerfully hung James if he’d had his way, using the excuse that James was the pirate who had attacked two of their Skylark ships, which was perfectly true, but beside the point.

Warren had only used that as his explanation, however, when the real reason he’d wanted to put an everlasting end to James Malory was because James had compromised Georgina
and
publicly announced that fact at a gathering that had included half of their hometown of Bridgeport, Connecticut.

Yes, Warren was much to blame for the animosity that still existed between her husband and her brothers. But James was not faultless either; he had, in fact, instigated all of the original hostility with his acerbic tongue. And come to find out, after he’d carted her off to England, that it had all been deliberate on his part, to get her brothers to force him to marry her, which they’d done quick enough; but that had
not
put an end to the talk of hanging, at least not from Warren.

And yet she understood Warren’s side of it, too. Her brothers had despised the English even before the War of 1812, because of the English blockade of Europe that had cost the Skylark line so many of their established trade routes. Then there were also the numerous Skylark ships that had been stopped and boarded when the English were arbitrarily searching for deserters to fill their ranks. Warren bore a small scar on his left cheek from one of those forced boardings, when the English had insisted on confiscating several of his crew and he’d tried to prevent it.

No, none of her brothers bore any love for the English, and the war had just made those sentiments worse. So it was no wonder they felt that James Malory, an English viscount, once the most notorious rake in London,
and
an ex-pirate, wasn’t good enough for their only sister. If she didn’t love her husband to distraction, they would never have left her in his care when they finally located them in London. And James knew that, which was just another reason he’d never be completely amicable to her brothers.

But she and James weren’t going to speak of it anymore tonight. It was a
very
touchy subject just now, and James and Georgina had learned to keep touchy subjects out of the bedroom. Not that they couldn’t have a rousing fight in that particular room, or in any other room for that matter. But in the bedroom they tended to get distracted, which sort of took the steam out of a good argument.

They’d just finished being distracted, very pleasantly so, and James was still holding Georgina in his arms and every so often nibbling on a patch of bare skin, which promised they would soon be distracted again. She found it amusing, outrageously funny actually, that James
and
his brother Anthony, both reformed rakes of the worst sort, both told to abstain from lovemaking in the last stages of their wives’ pregnancies,
both
found it a delightful joke to let it be assumed by friend and family
alike that they were following doctor’s orders, but abhorring the deprivation.

Even James’s son, Jeremy, had been fooled and was heard to offer the supportive words, “Well, hell’s bells, what’s two weeks when we used to be at sea for much longer between ports?”

What was funniest about that was that Jeremy, fast following in his father’s footsteps, ought to know better. He should have realized that two such masters of all things sensual, as both James and Anthony were, would know how to get around the doctor’s dictate to satisfy themselves and their wives in other ways.

James had enjoyed the pretense, however, of appearing touchy in the extreme, just as Anthony had before him, at least until the letter arrived from America. Now there was no pretense at all to James’s black mood, which no one was immune to, not when his satirical wit could lacerate so indiscriminately and with such deadly accuracy. Georgina had felt a few barbs herself, but she’d long ago figured out the perfect way to retaliate, by not retaliating at all, which drove her dear husband mad with vexation.

He wasn’t vexed at the moment. He wasn’t even thinking of the impending arrival of his in-laws, which would have totally destroyed his presently mellow mood. James was a man most happy and content when his little George was within reaching distance, and right now
she was very accessible. His hands idly roamed, as did his lips, as his thoughts drifted back over the evening and the ball they’d attended.

A bloody ball, something he wouldn’t have been caught dead at before he married, yet he supposed he had to make
some
allowances to the matrimonial state. The elders, as he and Anthony called their older brothers, had insisted he attend, though that wouldn’t have done the trick, since he never had obeyed their dictates and wasn’t about to start now. But Georgina had insisted, too, and that was all it took. He did so love pleasing her.

Then come to find he’d actually enjoyed himself, though that had had a lot to do with watching Anthony hem and haw and crack disparaging remarks about each and every young cockerel who danced attendance on their niece Amy,
especially
after Anthony had told him earlier, “I’ll leave this one to you, old man, since you weren’t around for Reggie’s come-out. Fair’s fair, after all, and Reggie caused me worry enough to last a lifetime, particularly after she set her heart on that bounder Eden. She wouldn’t even let me shoot the fellow, more’s the pity, and now it’s too late, since she married him.”

James had other reasons to dislike Nicholas Eden, than Reggie’s having married the fellow, but that was another story. She claimed to have fallen in love with him because he so reminded her of her dearest uncles, Anthony
and James, which only made it worse in their book, because anyone like them just wasn’t good enough for their Reggie. But neither James nor Anthony could find fault with his treatment of Reggie, at least not now, though he’d really made a muck of it in the first year of their marriage. But now Nicholas was an ideal husband. That they’d never actually
like
the chap was a matter of principle.

Now here was another of their nieces making her come-out, and although James and Anthony had had no part in raising any of Eddie’s daughters, as they had Reggie, who’d lost both her parents when she was only two, Eddie’s youngest daughter, with her coal-black hair and eyes of cobalt blue, so resembled Reggie that they could have been sisters. It made a bloody damn difference. It certainly had stirred up Anthony’s protective instincts, though he’d tried to deny it. And James hadn’t particularly liked what he’d felt himself while viewing the dandies and young rakehells who’d fallen all over themselves to gain Amy’s attention. In fact, he had promptly changed his mind about hoping Georgina would give him a daughter as delightfully precious as Anthony and Roslynn’s little Judith.

“You awake, George?” James asked in a lazy tone.

“Me and baby.”

He sat up, both hands moving to the large mound of her belly for a gentle message. When the next kick came, it pressed right into his palm. Their eyes met and they grinned at each other. It never failed to thrill James clear to his soul, the feel of his baby moving inside his wife.

“That was a mild one,” she told him.

His grin got wider. “Then he’ll be ready for the ring at an early age.”