Page 29 of Their Brazen Countess
“It’s not safe for you to wander about on your own.” Agnes looked pointedly at her. “There are rakes and rogues a plenty at these events. Why, I even saw some of those Lustful Lords traipsing about.”
“I’m sorry, those who?” Jo wasn’t sure what the woman was prattling about.
“Precisely my point. How can you know who to avoid and who to speak to at these events? You require my guidance.” She tipped her head ever so slightly toward a group of men and women who seemed to be enjoying themselves. “You’d do well to steer clear ofthatgroup of hedonists. The Lustful Lords are trouble, not the type of people the Marchioness of Whitestone should associate with.” She sniffed delicately as if to punctuate her point.
Jo stared at the group Agnes had indicated, shocked to see Linc and Arthur among them. Nonplussed, she replied honestly. “I was not speaking to them.”
“And well you shouldn’t,” Agnes stated flatly. Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Downs, nodded in agreement.
Deciding that silence would hold her in greater stead, Jo bit her tongue as the ladies continued on with their gossiping. Ignoring their pointless conversation, she angled herself slightly behind Mrs. Downs so she could watch the group Agnes had indicated.
The group seemed…friendly. The women were all dressed in the first stare of fashion and the men impeccably turned out. Handsome to a man, she wondered why they were called the Lustful Lords. Agnes suggested they were rakes and rogues, but that was not how she thought of Linc and Arthur. They had been her protectors, her lovers—they had never taken advantage of her. In fact, she’d been shocked when they had appeared on her doorstep in London, trying to save her from her fate.
When a countess greeted their group and drew Agnes into a conversation, Jo seized the opportunity, daring to ask, “Excuse me, Mrs. Downs?”
The woman was the nicest of the family, so it was no surprise when the pretty brunette turned and offered her a small smile. “Yes, my lady?”
“Why do they call them the Lustful Lords?” Jo asked. Curiosity now mixed with her earlier upset stomach to churn in a nauseating ball. Did she truly wish to know the answer to her question? What would it change?
Mrs. Downs giggled. “Because they were all confirmed bachelors and rogues—at least, until the last two years. They’ve suddenly all fallen in love and married.”
Jo felt all the blood leach from her face as her stomach twisted.Had they been married men?“All of them?”
“Well, all but three. I’m not sure which three are still unwed.” Mrs. Downs glanced over at the group.
With the blood rushing back to Jo’s face, relief flooded her body.So not married. Well, she had to assume they were two of the unmarried three. Didn’t she?
What little she knew of the men did not support the idea of either of them being married while they had engaged in such vigorous erotic activities with her—though that obviously no longer mattered, now she was a married woman.
Waving her fan once more, Jo smiled back at the woman. “They must have married extraordinary women.”
“Oh yes! The ladies are nearly as notorious as their husbands are now. I’ve heard they are friends with a woman who once ran a brothel.”
Jo gasped. “Oh my!”
“It’s amazing, really. Despite all the rumors about them, no hostess would dare leave them off her guest list.”
Agnes said something that pulled Mrs. Downs back into their conversation, leaving Jo to consider what she had learned. They knew a former brothel owner? How fascinating! More than ever, Jo wished events had unfolded differently.
As she stood there alone with her thoughts, her earlier wave of nausea returned. Working her fan faster, she leaned toward Agnes. “I’m afraid I am not feeling well. I believe I shall go find Whitestone.”
“He’ll likely be in the card room. One of the footmen can fetch him for you.” Agnes said as she turned to greet some of her friends who had just arrived.
Grateful for the escape, Jo turned and went in search of her husband. It would seem she needed the carriage.
The next morning Jo laid in bed, her stomach not feeling well once again. She finally conceded, after much nagging from her maid, that it was probably best to call for the doctor. In her gut, she suspected what was wrong but voicing it—saying it aloud—would be bittersweet.
The doctor finished his exam and closed his bag. “My lady, I am pleased to inform you. That you are with child.”
Jo mustered up a small smile for the doctor. “I was fairly certain that was the case. Thank you for confirming.”
He patted her hand. “I know you don’t feel well just now, but that should pass before long. Try eating some dry toast or crackers in the morning to help settle your stomach.”
“Thank you, doctor.” She let her eyes slip closed as he turned to leave.
Despite the nausea churning with the dollop of sadness inside her, Jo pushed the errant feeling aside and hauled herself out of the bed to ring for her maid. She needed to dress and find her husband with their news. He would certainly be pleased to hear that she now carried his child.
The question was, would she bear him the coveted heir…or a girl?
