Tomorrow.
Next week.
The timing didn’t matter.
Only that she would go... and he was a selfish blackguard if he pressed her to stay.
“Come on, sweet. Let’s get you to bed.” Carefully extricating himself from her warm body, he wrapped a blanket around her before he scooped her up off the chaise longue and carried her, still half asleep, out of the library and up the stairs to the second story. In the hallway, he hesitated, his gaze tracking from his door to hers before he ultimately decided on the former.
A lone candle burned in his bedchamber, illuminating somber, masculine tones of brown and forest green. He laid Abigail in the middle of his massive four-poster bed before stretching out beside her and drawing the coverlet over them both. She made another small, catlike noise before she immediately resumed her prior position, tucking her nose into the wall of his chest and drawing her knees up to his abdomen.
Kissing her forehead, he closed his own eyes as sleep raised her weary arms to embrace him. On the cusp of succumbing to slumber, he whispered three words into Abigail’s ear before the room faded to black and he drifted into merciful unconsciousness to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
Chapter Fifteen
“If this babyis not born today,” Mara announced to no one in particular, “I am murdering Ambrose in his sleep. He put me in this mess and, by God, he should have to suffer along with me. Actually, murder would be too kind. I need a poison. A very slow, very painful poison. One that causes boils and other such maladies. I’m sure Dr. Chadwick has something. Has anyone seen her this morning?”
Kitty and Jack exchanged a snickering glance before Kitty rose from where she was lounging in front of the drawing room fireplace to pour her sister a fresh cup of tea.
Mara promptly waved it off.
“If I drink another sip, I’ll have to visit the water closet.”
“Again?” Jack asked, poking her head around the side of an oversized armchair. “Weren’t ye just there two minutes ago?”
“Precisely my point,” the Duchess of Southwick said miserably. “This has gone on long enough. I haven’t seen my feet since last week. I cannot go five minutes without having to relieve myself. I’m starving, but if I eat even the smallest bite I am immediately full. This is awful. Why do women do this? More importantly, why don’t they share how terrible it is? All anyone has told me is how wonderful the experience was for them. Lady Ellsworth claimed I was glowing. And poor, poor Lady Pembroke!”
“What’s wrong with Lady Pembroke?” Kitty asked when Mara’s eyes filled with tears.
“She has six children,” Mara sniffled, dabbing at her damp cheeks with a wrinkled handkerchief that had gotten more than its fair share of use over the past few days as the duchess found herself helplessly overwhelmed by the smallest of things. “Six.Can you imagine?”
“I can imagine that Lord Pembroke is a busy man.” Kneeling beside her sister, Kitty placed a comforting hand on her knee even as the corners of her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “You’re going to be alright, Mara. You’re nearly at the end of it, and when the babe is placed in your arms you’ll forget about all of this. That’s why it’s never mentioned. Because the struggle is worth the prize.”
“I’ll remind you of that whenyourbelly barely fits through a doorway,” Mara said darkly.
“William and I have already discussed it. We’re not having children.”
“Oi! What am I?” Jack demanded, kicking her feet up on the armrest. “A rotten potato?”
“We’re not having anymorechildren,” Kitty amended. “As you can see, this rambunctious scamp is more than enough to keep us busy. In addition to my gaggle of nieces and nephews, of course.”
“Gaggle,” Mara moaned, slumping in her chair. “I don’t want a gaggle. I want this oneout.” Gazing down at her enormous stomach, she gave it a gentle poke with her finger. “Do you hear that? You need to make your appearance. This instant!”
“Scolding our child already?” Ambrose drawled from the doorway.
Mara’s head snapped up to where the duke stood silhouetted in a haze of morning sunlight. “You,” she breathed, smoke all but pouring from her nostrils.
“Run,” Kitty advised.
“And don’t drink anything that tastes off if ye know what’s good for ye!” Jack yelled after him as he wisely heeded the advice of his sister-in-law and hastened from the room after staying just long enough to kiss his wife’s cheek and ask if she needed anything.
“Out, Ambrose. I need this babyout.”
“You really should try to drink some tea,” Kitty said, and this time Mara accepted the cup, albeit reluctantly. “This will all be over soon enough, and when your darling babe is howling in the nursery you’ll wish it were back in your belly.” She kissed her sister’s other cheek. “If Mother were here, she’d tell you how proud she was of you. You’re doing splendid, Mara. Absolutely splendid.”
“Are youtryingto make me cry?” Fresh tears spilled over Mara’s lashes as she put out her arm and Kitty helped pull her to her swollen feet. “I should go find Ambrose and apologize. I don’t really want to poison him.”
Kitty shrugged. “Every husband should live in fear of a little poisoning. It keeps them honest.”
