Page 45 of The Baron's Return
He dropped into a crouch before her and placed a hand on her belly. She still had three months before their baby was due to arrive but of late was already finding it difficult to sit and to stand again. She feared how big she’d be if the baby inside her continued to grow at this alarming rate.
Cranston moved to the second armchair. He leaned forward and took hold of her hand. “I’m not going to apologize for wanting you to be safe.”
She shook her head in amusement, unable to believe just how much Cranston had changed in the short time they’d been wed.
“I saw your brother today in Parliament. He’ll be joining us for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, that’s good news indeed,” she said. “I’ve scarce seen him the past two weeks since he arrived in town.”
Cranston shrugged. “He’s been busy settling matters with your father’s town house and with the solicitors. He’ll probably be busy for some time yet as he grows into his role as the new Earl of Hargrove. Still, I managed to apply enough guilt about how you’re desperate to see him.”
Abigail tried to scowl at him, but they both knew he was speaking the truth. “I should tell the butler to let him in the moment he arrives…”
She started to rise, but Cranston shook his head. “There’s no need. I’ve already told the staff that your brother is welcome here at any time.”
Another warmth of affection flowed through her. She knew the pregnancy was making her more emotional, but she loved how Cranston had been so welcoming to her one remaining family member. The only one, really, who’d ever supported her.
There was a soft knock at the door. At Cranston’s command, the door opened and, almost as if they’d summoned him with their words, Geoffrey stepped into the room.
He shook his head as he stared at their joined hands. “Father would be rolling over in his grave if he could see the two of you now.”
“Geoff!” Abigail rose to her feet more slowly than she would have liked and wrapped her arms around her brother.
“Hargrove,” Cranston said by way of greeting as he stood.
Her brother winced. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. Especially since the mere thought of the former earl is enough to set my blood boiling today.”
“Oh no.” Abigail threaded her arm through her brother’s and guided him out into the hallway and to the drawing room where they could all be seated comfortably. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have abandoned you when I did to come to London.”
When she released her brother’s arm, Cranston helped her onto the settee and settled next to her. “Well, I for one am glad you came to town when you did.”
Geoffrey collapsed into an armchair, his legs and arms sprawled. “The two of you are nauseating.”
Abigail smiled fondly at her husband before turning to examine her brother. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. Their father would have been very angry when she escaped his attempts to force her into another marriage of his choosing. “It’s been over a month since he passed. You can do whatever you wish now without his interference.”
Her brother snorted. “I received a letter this morning from Lord Appleby. My betrothed’s father.”
She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I didn’t know you were courting.”
“Neither did I. Father arranged it when I was young and didn’t see fit to tell me about it until he was on his deathbed.”
Cranston snorted. “Why am I not surprised?” He went to the sideboard and poured a drink, then returned and pressed it into her brother’s hand.
With a nod of thanks, her brother tossed back the contents of the glass and set it on the side table.
Her husband returned to her side. “Have you looked into the matter? If it was merely a verbal agreement, it should be easy enough to have set aside. I might know someone who could advise you.”
“I thought the old man was lying when he told me. He’d been trying to get me to court Lydia Pearce for some time now. He became particularly persistent toward the end when it became clear that he wasn’t going to recover.”
“If no formal agreement was made…” Abigail raised one shoulder. “Surely it would be no different than when I fled the house to avoid Father pressing a match between me and Lord Gravenhurst.”
“Gravenhurst?” Her husband scowled. “You didn’t tell me that.”
She placed a soothing hand on his knee. “It was never going to happen. With the support I was receiving from my husband’s heir, Father couldn’t force me to marry again.” And especially not to another older man who liked to marry young women. Gravenhurst had already gone through two wives. No doubt he was considering Abigail only because she’d proven that she wouldn’t die during childbirth.
Geoffrey let out a mirthless laugh. “I saw the family solicitor this afternoon, and a formal agreement does exist.”
Abigail’s heart fell. “There must be some way out of it.”
