Of Silk and Steam (33 page)

Six months later…

“I’m not quite certain I understand this custom.”

Leo slid a hand over the small of his wife’s back, the other arm laden with brightly wrapped boxes. Her jacket was a dark aubergine, complete with mink fur around the collar, and a black velvet hat crowned a pile of luxurious red curls. Elegant from top to toe. He’d never had much interest in women’s fashion before their marriage, but peeling her out of each luxurious layer was becoming one of his favorite pastimes, particularly discovering what she was wearing beneath. Mina liked silks and lace and naughty little bits of French frippery that she called undergarments.

Leo liked removing them.

“It’s a human custom,” he replied, holding open the back door to the Warren for her. The scent of baked ham assaulted him, along with something sweet and spicy. “I believe that the Countess of Leverstein brought the traditional customs with her from her homeland. Since the Echelon refused to partake due to the holiday’s religious undertones, humans took to it with deliberate enthusiasm.”

“Christmas,” Mina murmured. “How quaint.”

The realm’s first official Christmas, something the queen had set in motion to celebrate the passing of her husband’s tyranny and help to bring in a New Year. Tomorrow they’d be expected at Balmoral, where the queen was spending the holidays, for a Christmas dinner. Tonight, however, was something he planned on sharing with his own family before the train trip in the morning.

Brushing snowflakes from Mina’s back, he stared around the kitchen. Copper pots hung from the ceiling and an enormous stove dominated the hearth. It was like walking into a wall of heat and scent, almost a little like coming home.

Esme entered the kitchen, moving much more slowly than she had before. The froth of bows and silk drapery on her dress somewhat disguised the distinct bulge of her figure, but nothing could hide her brilliant smile and the bright glow of her eyes. Far from struggling with her condition as Honoria had, Esme looked as though it suited her.

“Oh, Barrons,” she said, hurrying forward. “And Duchess. Here, let me take those from you.”

Leo twisted out of the way. “Absolutely not.”

Esme’s lips thinned. “I wasn’t aware I was suddenly useless.”

“’Ardly.” Rip’s voice echoed in the room as he entered on the heels of his wife. “Leo. Duchess.” He nodded. “What are you doin’ in ’ere, woman? This is tradition.” Taking hold of Esme’s shoulders, he turned her about. “Women stay out o’ the kitchen today. Blade and I managed not to burn the duck last year, and we can do it again today.”

Esme gestured over her shoulder. “Come on in then. Everybody’s waiting in the sitting room. I’ll just fetch some—”

“You’ll sit,” Rip growled, steering her through the door. “And let me do the work. Now what were you goin’ to fetch?”

The door closed behind them.

Exchanging an amused glance with Mina, Leo helped her out of her jacket. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he curled his arms around her and drew her back against his chest. “That shall be us one day.”

“I doubt it.” She laughed. “Neither of us can cook.”

Leo pressed his mouth against her neck, the vibrancy of her laughter jolting against his lips. It was one of his favorite places to kiss her—the soft skin now warmed by her coat and smelling faintly of the rose soap she used on her hair. His arms softened, his lips lingering there.

“Leo,” she warned, tugging free. There was a hint of warmth in her eyes, that melting little expression she got when she was intent on teasing him. “Later.”

“Are you going to be my present?”

“If you behave, I might let you unwrap me,” she teased, reaching up for her hat.

Watching her undress was almost as enjoyable as doing it himself. Leo set the presents down on the kitchen counter and helped her pluck her hat pins free.

“Do you know,” she murmured, glancing up from beneath her thick, dark lashes, “that a trunk arrived from Madame Peignoir’s today?”

“Mmm?” He glanced down into those warm brown eyes, his cock hardening a little. Madame Peignoir was the perpetrator behind most of the flimsy little bits of lace. He could just imagine.

“You should see what I’m wearing under all of this.”

“Is this a new way of torturing me?” He tossed her hat aside and stepped closer. He pinned her against the bench, the sleek press of his trousers lost in the swagged velvet skirts she wore. His voice dropped. “Or are you inviting me to do wicked things to my wife in my sister’s kitchen?”

“I don’t think—”

“Sounds terribly fascinatin’,” Blade said, shoving the door open and giving them a bland smile. “But Esme says, ‘not in her kitchen,’ and some of us ’as preternatural ’earin’.” He winked at the duchess.

Molten relaxation washed off her, replaced by her usual upright pose. Leo rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek, shot her one last amused smile, and then stepped back.
Later
, his eyes told her.

I’ll hold you to that
, hers replied.

“Blade,” he said, nodding at his brother-in-law as he shrugged out of his own greatcoat. “Merry Christmas.”

“Sir Henry. The Hero of the Realm.” The duchess tipped her own head in a polite nod, her eyes devilish. It wasn’t beyond her to provoke her brother-in-law, and she’d recently figured out that the use of his proper name and title made Blade’s nose itch a little. Blade might have taken a great deal of credit for the uprising, but it embarrassed him when people called him the Hero of the Realm in the streets. “Should I curtsy?”

“Duchess,” Blade replied, swinging the door open and gesturing through it with an elegant bow. He wasn’t above retaliation.

Light and laughter welcomed them into the sitting room where everyone else was gathered. Lena came to her feet with an enormous smile and hurried forward to press a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I thought you two were never going to arrive! We’ve been waiting all night to distribute the presents!”

Presents. “Damn it, I’ve left them in the kitchen—”

“I’ll get them,” Lena replied promptly. She turned toward Mina and took her hands, a little more reserved now. “Duchess.”

“Mina, please.”

Leo didn’t quite watch the exchange, but it made him relax a little when Lena repeated her name, wished her a “Merry Christmas,” and then kissed Mina on the cheek. Forgiven, he suspected, but not entirely forgotten, though time would heal that wound.

There was a never-ending barrage of people to greet: Will, looking more relaxed than he’d been in a while; Charlie, who clapped hands with Leo with a weak smile, before glancing at Lark who murmured a hullo to Leo and pointedly ignored Charlie; and then Honoria and the baby. Tin Man’s absence from the scene was a hollow blow, and he noticed Charlie shooting Lark hesitant glances as they avoided each other.

Leo arched a brow at Honoria, then gestured to the young pair standing apart. Lark had lost a great deal of weight since Tin Man’s death, and he’d heard that she’d had a few choice words to say to Charlie at the funeral. Blade had gone easy on the lad in the end; Lark’s grief was punishment enough.

Honoria graced Leo with a sad smile and a little shrug that could have meant anything. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Leaning in, he kissed her cheek. “It’s been too long.”

“I hear Her Highness has been keeping all of you busy.”

“One would think she plans to introduce ten years’ worth of legal changes in one,” he said dryly. “It’s keeping Mina on her toes though. The situation suits her.”

Honoria snuggled baby Emma against her throat, while Blade watched his wife from across the room. Mina looked a little out of her depth, but she graciously accepted a glass of blud-wein and settled in beside Esme on a sofa by the roaring hearth. “
She
suits you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“No.” A secretive smile. “If anyone was ever to catch your eye, it was going to be someone with a mind of her own. Easy bores you.”

Blade sauntered over, leaning in to smother kisses under Emma’s jaw. “Easy bores most men. ’Ere, luv. Let me take ’er for a moment and give you a rest.”

Honoria reluctantly handed over her daughter, settling Emma’s white bonnet more securely on her head. Blade cooed at her, lifting her high in the air as he strolled toward the fireplace. Honoria laughed under her breath. “Not that it has anything to do with playing dirty.”

Leo arched a brow, then realized exactly where Blade was heading. Blade handed Mina the baby and leaned against the mantel.

Honoria smiled as they sat, both of them watching their respective partners. “You look well. Content in a way I’ve never seen you look before.”

“I am.” It surprised him how much sometimes, and how it was only with such happiness that he’d realized how utterly gray his life had been before.

Blade played peekaboo behind the duchess’s shoulder, sending Emma into squeals of delight. Mina eyed him with a certain droll wariness, but that familiar sparkle was in her eyes. Blade’s campaign was evidently succeeding.

“He’s shameless.”

“The Devil of Whitechapel in all his terrifying glory,” Leo added. Blade tickled Emma under her chubby chin, sending her jerking backward in Mina’s arms. Mina scolded him with a frown, clutching the baby tight against her chest as if she feared dropping her.

“I adore watching him with her,” Honor admitted. “I might as well not exist sometimes, except when it comes to nursing. Though I must admit, there’s nothing quite like seeing your child in your husband’s arms and knowing how much she loves him.”

Leo couldn’t take his eyes off his wife. Mina pressed her cheek against Emma’s. Breathing in the scent of his little niece, he imagined. She’d admitted how much she adored the scent of babies. “Mmmm.”

Honoria poked him in the ribs. “Mmm? That almost sounds like you’re planning a brood.”

“Hardly.”

“Leo—”

“I think I’d best rescue her. If you’ll excuse me?” he murmured, gracefully dodging the subject.

Crossing the room, he leaned on the back of the sofa and stroked Emma’s chin. Her focus on him was absolute, as though he was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss against his wife’s neck. Mina glanced up, rubbing small circles on Emma’s back. The more often they visited, the more comfortable she seemed to be with holding the baby. “I do hope that glow in your eyes isn’t pertaining to any particular future plans?”

“No, love. Not yet. I’m quite content to leave it at the practicing stage for now.”

A faint blush stained her pale cheeks. Her gaze lingered on Emma for long seconds, utterly unreadable. Then with a sigh, she handed her over to him. Leo lifted his niece up, earning a cuddle. “Hello, my beautiful young lass. Who’s your favorite uncle?”

“Uncle Charlie!” Charlie called out from across the room, earning a laugh.

“Yes, well, you’re much funnier-looking than me.” Being around the lad was growing easier. Indeed, Leo seemed to be the only one Charlie could talk to about his own mistake and the consequences of it.

Warmth washed over Leo from the fireplace. He settled Emma against his shoulder, then slid an arm around his wife as he sat. Mina rested her cheek against his shoulder, relaxing slowly as Blade excused himself to go help Will and Rip in the kitchen.

“Do you know,” Mina murmured, “he’s not so bad, after all.”

Leo pressed a kiss into her hair. “Making peace with the natives, are we?”

“They’re your natives. It stands to reason that I’m going to be around them quite often and should therefore make amends.” Her expression softened. “And I like this.”

“This?”

“Family. Even when they’re not truly related, they’re still a family. I like being part of it.” Something wistful flashed across her face, and he knew she was thinking of her own brother and parents. A wound, she’d admitted, from which she’d never truly healed.

“I’ll remember that the next time you call Caine a crazy, overbearing old bastard.” He stroked the smooth skin of her inner arm. “Or complain that Blade’s running a blockade against you on the Council.”

“Yes, well, he might be in for a little surprise.”

“Oh?”

Mina gave him a devilish smile. “He thinks he’s winning me over with his daughter. Wait until he arrives in Council chambers next meeting and realizes his little blockade just might be falling to pieces.”

“You’re making friends then?”

“I’m going to annihilate him.” She chuckled. “Not everybody likes this little scheme he has running about the enclaves.”

“Rosalind?” The pair of women had been wary allies at first, until both realized they had rather a lot in common. And if Mina had Rosalind on her side, matters dictated that Lynch was possibly not far behind…

“Yes.” Mina leaned on his chest, reaching out to coo at Emma. “Blade first, and then your father is going to get his comeuppance at court and I am going to win.”

“You do realize that you don’t have all of the vote yet.”

“I shall. My plans for the enclaves are far superior.”

“Of course they are.” His wife had the unshakable belief that she was correct in most matters, though at least she was well aware of it. “What if the Council swung in another direction?”

“Nobody likes Caine. They’ll vote against him just to block him.”

“Perhaps, but Caine’s proxy has rather a lot of sway with certain people.”

A long, slow silence. Mina looked delighted and sat up straight. “You’re accepting his offer.”

“Yes, I think I shall.” They’d resumed their weekly chess matches—at Mina’s request, surprisingly enough—and Caine often had information waiting for Leo on some of the enterprises he was involved in, as if the duke were following his progress. Caine had certainly never given a damn about airships offering commercial trade before.

He caught her fingers and pressed them to his lips. “You do realize this might mean war.”

“I know, but I like arguing with you in Council.” Leaning closer, she whispered in his ear, “It’s exciting.”

He understood exactly what she meant.

“Let’s say…if you lose the vote, then I get to tie you to the bed and have my wicked way with you.”