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She looked down at her belly and caressed it softly. It was slightly rounded, but it wasn’t obvious that a child rested within her womb.
Not yet.
She needed to tell her husband the truth before it became obvious. Before they reached further levels of intimacy. She needed to tell him now.
Having made up her mind, she made her way toward the dressing room to get clothed and brush out her hair. She glanced at the looking glass, at her short, wavy locks. She’d gotten used to her new hairstyle, she realized. She even liked it now.
She smiled, thinking of a little girl with short wavy hair just like hers and piercing green eyes just like Alec’s. Emily bit on her inner cheek nervously and proceeded to get dressed.
The child she was carrying would not have Alec’s eyes or anything of his. But the next one could.
They could be a real family. A large and happy family just like the one she had growing up. She had always wanted many children. Six or seven, perhaps.
Before she could dream of her happy future, she needed to talk to her husband and explain to him why she hadn’t told him earlier.
Her husband, who was gentle, but also strong in spirit, would understand. He wouldn't fault her for doing what she did in order to save her family, she was certain.
Yet her palms still perspired and her limbs trembled, belying her conviction.
After all, Bernard, whom she’d known for years, had managed to betray her quite easily. And he was more steadfast, not as impulsive and passionate as her husband was.
Taking a deep breath, Emily smoothed the skirt of her day gown and walked toward the door.
Rap. Rap. Rap.
Emily started and let out a yelp as a maid opened the door. “Your Grace, there’s a modiste to see you. She insists she has an appointment.”
Emily frowned. She had a couple of interviews with potential governesses lined up for her sisters, but they were in the afternoon. Before then, she had plenty of time to check on her mother, go over the estate details with Reggie, go over household issues with the housekeeper, and more importantly, talk to her husband. She was entirely certain she had no appointment with a modiste.
But as she made her way downstairs and met the woman who had arrived with two seamstresses, she realized that her husband was the one who arranged the appointment and insisted on having gowns and undergarments made for Emily with utmost haste.
She was rather annoyed but also oddly pleased with his heavy-handed approach to getting her new clothes.
She remembered his disapproving stare at her threadbare shift before tearing it in half the night before and smiled.
She would make certain to thank him for his generosity when she next saw him. In more ways than one.
The sense of calm that surrounded Tyrone when he was with his wife easily disappeared the moment he was one-on-one with his thoughts. As he perused his papers, his knee jerked with agitation, his fingers beating a staccato against the desk.
He had a lot of work.
He had abandoned his lands for months after his father’s death. And although his managers were competent, things still had a way of falling apart. Everything needed constant control and control was something Tyrone had famously struggled with. Not only was he reminded of his own inadequacies on a daily basis trying to handle all the issues, but the moment he let his mind rest, the memories hounded him to the point that he needed to physically shake them off and force himself to concentrate.
At times, it worked. Other times, he needed to step away and join his newfound family in their daily activities just to squash his craving for liquor. Anything was preferable to the thoughts in his head that brought on tremors, sweating, and heart palpitations, even the less-than-perfect musical performances by his sisters-in-law.
Besides, it was worth it just for the chance to catch a glimpse of Emily as she watched her sisters like a proud mother hen, with a smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes.
More often than not, however, he found himself back in the study, confronting his own demons. He needed to learn everything he could about successfully running his estates if he were to teach Reggie to do the same.
The poor lad had an uphill battle when he turned of age, as his guardian seemed even more incompetent than Tyrone. For if Tyrone had resisted taking up his responsibility due to hatred toward his father and the memories that were about to swallow him whole, Reggie’s guardian simply did not care.
It was unusual for Tyrone to care about someone other than himself. But when he looked at Reggie, he saw himself and wondered how he would have turned out if he had the support of his family. And then it made him want to give the little boy everything he had lacked as a child, including the encouragement, guidance, and support he wished he had gotten from his father.
Not to mention that it made Emily happy whenever he spent time with her family. And he was willing to do anything that made Emily happy. Her smile lit up the world, making it a cozy place to inhabit.
He turned the page of the document in front of him, coaxing his mind to concentrate when there was a timid knock at his door.
He cocked his head. Everyone to ever enter his study had used a more forceful knock to get his attention. Just as he thought that, the knocking intensified, getting louder.
