Page 48 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
Chapter Nine
Alistair pounded his fist into the wall and welcomed the pain in his hand even as he winced and shook it out. He needed to get a grip of his feelings where his wife was concerned.
Seeing her in the tub, her skin white, her lips tinged with blue, for one awful moment he’d thought she wasin extremis. Devil take it, he could barely speak the words in his head, let alone out loud and in English.
How could anyone sleep in water so frigid? Likely only a woman exhausted first by riding all around the countryside and then his carnal needs overcoming good sense even though he knew she’d been ill. But she wasn’t expecting a child. A tremendous relief flooded his veins. Something he’d tried not to show, as he could see it madeherunhappy.
Barren. What a surprise. If it was true. What reason would she have to lie? Had she guessed he did not want children and sought to trick him? It hardly seemed likely. And the sadness in her eyes when she told him did not lie. She wanted a child.
A throat cleared behind him. ‘Your Grace.’ The voice was male and tentative.
The study wall looked no worse for wear, but his knuckles were bruised. He turned to meet the worried gaze of his amanuensis. ‘Lewis.’ He clasped his hands behind his back, ignoring the flush of heat in his cheeks. A duke did not explain himself to anyone. ‘You found one?’
‘No, Your Grace. I took the liberty of ordering one from the jeweller.’
‘Thank you.’ He wasn’t sure he’d give her the gift. It smacked of a kind of sentimentality any man of sense should find distasteful. He glanced at the mess on his desk. At last now with Lewis’s help he’d be able to catch up.
Lewis’s face took on a strained expression. ‘I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I must hand in my notice effective immediately.’
‘What the devil?’ He reined in his temper and looked closely at his secretary. He had never seen Lewis looking so dejected. ‘Something has happened.’
‘My father is ill. I must go.’
‘You hie from somewhere in the west, do you not?’
‘Devonshire, Your Grace.’
‘You should have sent me a note and gone straight there.’
‘Sackfield is not far out of my way and I wished to tell you in person. Also...’ he lowered his voice ‘...I gather the Dowager Duchess has left town for the summer. Visiting family, I understand.’
The only family who would invite her to visit was Luke, who had already imparted the news as a warning, or a threat.
‘It is good of you to take the time to let me know, Lewis. I appreciate it. You will stay here tonight and be on your way first thing in the morning, refreshed.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace.’
‘Since you are here, I wonder if I might impose on you for an hour or two. There are matters among my correspondence that would benefit from your assistance.’ Not to mention that the man looked as if he needed the distraction. As did Alistair. Or he’d be dwelling on what this latest development with his wife might mean for their future. All sorts of possibilities fired his imagination and his blood. ‘If you don’t mind?’
‘I would be glad to help, Your Grace. I cannot tell you how badly I feel at deserting the ship.’
‘We are not sinking yet, Lewis. You will join the Duchess and me for dinner, I hope?’
Usually, when he was in the country, he and Lewis dined together. Lewis was, after all, the grandson of an earl and a gentleman. He was also good company. Just because Alistair had a wife, there was no reason to change things. He grimaced at his cowardice. Using Lewis to keep him from lusting after a wife who apparently was the perfect choice for a man in his situation, once she recovered from her illness.
He couldn’t help wondering if the fates had finally decided to be kind. If so, he had better beware. In his experience, their generosity never came without a price.
‘It will be my pleasure, Your Grace.’
He was not surprised by the puzzlement on the younger man’s face. What bridegroom wanted a chaperon? One who should never have married in the first place.
It sounded like the last line of a really bad joke.
* * *
Julia almost cried off from dinner, after Alistair’s accusation. He must have thought her the worst sort of woman, if he thought she would pass another man’s child off on him. Even worse than she had thought herself, to tell the truth. But she wasn’t going to hide in her room looking guilty, even if a duchess who could not provide her lord with an heir really was guilty of a crime.
What man would be content for his brother to be his heir? Perhaps he was one of those men who disliked babies. Or worse, would become jealous of a wife’s attention to her children. If so, she was better off being barren. It would be better for the children. Or it would be, if the thought of never having a child didn’t continue to ache in the centre of her chest.
