Lucy laughed. “I should go. You two clearly want to be nauseating without an audience.”
“We can be nauseating with an audience too,” the Duke said. “We’re very versatile.”
After Lucy left, they stood by the fountain, watching the water cascade in perfectly measured streams.
“I have something to tell you,” Celine said.
“Oh?”
“About the baby.”
He tensed immediately. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. Just... unexpected.”
“Unexpected how?”
“The midwife thinks there might be two heartbeats.”
He went completely still. “Two.”
“Twins. Possibly. Maybe.”
“Twins.” He sat down abruptly on the fountain’s edge. “Two babies. At once.”
“That’s generally how twins work, yes.”
“That’s... that’s completely outside my calculations. I had everything planned for one baby. The nursery, the schedules, the—” He stopped, looking up at her with wonder. “Twins.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Upset? I’m terrified. Thrilled. Completely unprepared.” He pulled her down beside him. “It’s perfect.”
“Perfect? You just said you’re unprepared.”
“I’m always unprepared when it comes to you. It’s becoming my favourite state of being.” He placed both hands on her stomach. “Two. We’re going to have two.”
“Possibly. Maybe. The midwife isn’t certain.”
“She’s certain enough to mention it. Two babies. Two sets of everything. Double the chaos.”
“You hate chaos.”
“I loveyourchaos. And these will be our chaos. Yours and mine combined.” He was smiling now, that full, real smile that transformed his face. “They’ll probably inherit your stubbornness and my obsessive devotion to precision.”
“In duplicate.”
“Mercy on us both.”
“We’ll manage.”
“Of course we will. We’ve managed everything else.” He kissed her, long and thorough. “When did you find out?”
“Yesterday.”
They sat by the fountain as the sun climbed higher, planning and dreaming and counting possibilities. Two cribs. Two sets of clothes. Two names to choose.
“If they’re boys, absolutely no poetry in their education,” the Duke said firmly.
