Category: Elizabeth Hoyt

Elizabeth Hoyt

He sat and looked at her. “How is Mary Darling?”“Fast asleep after playing and having a bath,” she said. “The nursery is lovely.”“I’m glad you like it.”“Rose and Annie are obviously practiced nursemaids, and what is even better, they seem to like Mary, and she them.”He grunted. “It would take a hard heart to turn away from my Mary Darling.”A smile curved the corners of her lips. “You didn’t seem too enamored of her when you first met.”“She has a forceful personality, as do I. We just took a bit to get to know one another.

Elizabeth Hoyt

I must be getting back to my rooms,” Silence said and stood.Mick frowned with displeasure. “Why?”“Because of Mary Darling.”He shrugged. “One o’ the maids is watchin’ her.”“But if Mary wakes she’ll want me.”“Why?” he asked again, biting into a sweetmeat. This discussion wasn’t to his fancy, but sparring with her was.“Because,” she said slowly, looking at him as if he were lack-witted, “she’s only a baby and she loves me.”“Babies,” Mick pronounced, “are a great trouble.”She shook her head, not bothering to reply this time, and started marching to the door.

Elizabeth Hoyt

As I said, I don’t expect you to understand—”“And I don’t,” he cut in. “Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman’s noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband’s coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse.”Her hand flashed out before she’d thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard.Silence had her eyes locked with Michael’s, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play.Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm.He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. “Don’t take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m’love.

Elizabeth Hoyt

Silence rose and crossed to the connecting door and knocked.The door was opened almost at once.Michael leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, a wicked smile playing about his sensuous lips. He was so very big this close—every time it surprised her and made her breathless. “Well, now, and when did ye decide to start knockin’ at me door?”Silence fought to keep her face from flaming as she remembered the last time she’d peeked through Michael’s door.She swallowed. “We’re bored.”“Is that so?” Michael glanced down.Silence followed his gaze and saw that Mary had crawled over to investigate. The baby grabbed a handful of her skirt and stood up. She kept one hand on Silence’s skirt and popped two fingers from the other into her mouth as she stared solemnly at Michael.“She looks a rare treat,” Michael said softly, watching the toddler.Silence smiled down at Mary. “She does indeed.”She glanced up and her heart squeezed at the gentle look on Michael’s face.As if she understood she was the subject of conversation, Mary lifted her arms—to Michael. “Up!”Michael arched an eyebrow. “Mouthy little thing, ain’t she?”But he bent and lifted the toddler.

Elizabeth Hoyt

Silence cleared her throat, fearful her voice would come out a croak. “Is she asleep?”He blinked as if he, too, were waking from a dream, and glanced down at Mary Darling. “Aye, I’m a-thinkin’ she is—she’s stopped fussin’ at me.”Silence felt a huge smile of relief spread over her face. “She was fussing? Oh, how wonderful!”He shot her a look, one eyebrow arching. “Ye’ve taught the child to bully me, too, now?”“Oh, no,” she said hastily, embarrassed. Did he really think she bullied him? What a silly notion!

Elizabeth Hoyt

There, there, sweetin’,” he murmured into her hair.“He loved me, he truly did,” she gasped.“I know he did,” Michael said.“And I loved him.”“Mm-hmm.”She raised her head, glaring angrily. “You don’t even believe in love. Why are you agreeing with me?”He laughed.“Because”—he leaned down and licked at the tears on her cheeks, his lips brushing softly against her sensitive skin as he spoke, “ye’ve bewitched and bespelled me, my sweet Silence, didn’t ye know? I’ll agree that the sky is pink, that the moon is made o’ marzipan and sugared raisins, and that mermaids swim the muddy waters o’ the Thames, if ye’ll only stop weepin’. Me chest breaks apart and gapes wide open when I see tears in yer pretty eyes. Me lungs, me liver, and me heart cannot stand to be thus exposed.”She stopped breathing. She simply inhaled and stopped, looking at him in wonder. His lips were quirked in a mocking smile, but his eyes—his fathomless black eyes—seemed to hold a great pain as if his strong chest really had been split open.