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It was an unseasonably cold morning, in a way that the fire in the chamber could not quite change. Colin snuggled down into the bedsheets and wrapped his arms around Penelope’s waist. She giggled as his scruff tickled her neck.
“Too cold for you?” she teased.
“It is making me wish we were on a warm Mediterranean shore,” he muttered.
“The grey of merry old England not good enough for you?”
“Mmm,” he murmured. “The weather I could do without, but the company cannot be beat.”
“Charmer,” she responded.
“You know what else is charming? The shores of - ”
“Colin!” She laughed and pressed his hand to her stomach. “The things you think are charming in a carriage are the very reasons we cannot go traveling.”
“I recall you finding carriages quite charming as well,” he said as he caressed her stomach.
“Indeed - almost as charming as the birdsong outside our window.”
“Ah, that. That I believe is the humble chiffchaff, trying to tell that spring has arrived, no matter what England may think.”
“Perhaps it is trying to tell you that some things are worth waiting for,” Penelope argued.
He squeezed her stomach, lightly, knowing that it woudl be some months until the newest arrival to their family made their apperance. “Undoubtedly, Pen.”
“Including, perhaps, a family getaway on those warm shores you speak so fondly of.”
His laughter was warm in her ears as he considered it. “A holidy for you, me, and our soon to be adorable child? Why, Pen, that thought is enough to warm me through even the greyest of dreadful spring days.”
“Mm. I think I might know some other things to warm you.”
“Have I ever told you that you are my favorite minx?”
“Several times, actually.”
“Well, then, let me tell you again.”