Charlotte chuckled. “That won’t ever happen,” she said. “My mama told me that people didn’t realize she was pregnant at all until practically the last month. We’re so much taller than the average woman.”

She stared down at her husband’s curls. Did he want an heir, or their child? “Do you … would you like to have a child, even if it were another girl?” she finally asked, tentatively.

Alex rocked back on his heels, his hands stroking Charlotte’s slim sides. “I would love to have a little girl who looked just like you,” he said, so sincerely that Charlotte knew he meant it. He looked up and caught her eye. “I want to be there for the birth, you know.” Charlotte’s eyes widened.

“You couldn’t possibly” she gasped.

“You watch,” Alex said, grinning. “I saw a baby born in Italy, when I was traveling around the countryside. A woman simply gave birth right in the taverna. It was wonderful. Even dragoon guards couldn’t keep me out of the room if you were having a baby!”

Charlotte didn’t know what to say to that. She swallowed. If her mama ever found out, she would faint on the spot.

Alex ran his hands over Charlotte’s flat stomach. Then he felt a surge of strong, masculine annoyance. By God, he was starting to get maudlin! He had to watch it, or he would start thinking he was in love with Charlotte. And he had made up his mind that he wouldn’t allow any woman to have that much power over him, ever again. Not even his own Charlotte. No woman, he reminded himself. Expertly he began giving Charlotte little licking, nipping bites, working toward her breasts.

Charlotte giggled. With a mock growl, her husband lunged at one of her breasts, taking the nipple in his mouth and rolling his teeth over it. Charlotte’s giggle died in her throat, replaced by a ragged moan. Alex scooped up his wife and laid her on the bed.

The next morning at five o’clock, Charlotte and a very cross Pippa waved good-bye to Alex from the steps of Sheffield House. Pippa hadn’t wanted to wake up, but Charlotte was determined that she say good-bye properly. Not like the last time, when Pippa simply woke up to find that her papa was gone. And if—Charlotte let herself think this only in the far recesses of her mind—if Alex did not come back, at least Charlotte could describe how he kissed and kissed Pippa’s face, later, when Pippa was old enough to understand.

The next day Charlotte told everyone the story that Alex had prepared—that he had to go to Italy suddenly, to attend to some business. Only Sophie and Charlotte’s parents knew the truth.