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“Mr. Darby, I must share some very unfortunate information with you,” Lady Holkham said bluntly.

“I am well aware that Henrietta cannot bear children,” he said soothingly. “I assure you that it is not of the slightest concern to me. I have never wished for offspring, and besides, I have two small sisters to raise. I am certain that Henrietta will be a wonderful mother to Josie and Anabel.”

“You don’t understand,” Lady Holkham replied. “Lady Henrietta is not merely unable to bear children.” She stopped. He frowned, unable to guess what she was implying. She sat bolt upright, looking at him as if she had imparted something of great import.

“She is not merely unable to bear children,” he repeated.

“Yes!” she snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I am not following your train of thought, my lady.” The issue was clearly one that the dowager countess would rather not say aloud. She cleared her throat. “Henrietta cannot carry a child.”

“Yes, I know.”

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“I do not mean that she would be unable to conceive that child,” she finally said painstakingly. “I mean that in the event that she became quick with child, the child would kill her. And it is entirely likely that the child would die as well. It is a miracle that Henrietta herself survived birth; her mother was not so fortunate.”

He swallowed. “How on earth can you predict such an event? Her mother’s story is unfortunate, but not unusual.”

“Surely you have noticed that Henrietta limps?”

He nodded.

“Her mother had precisely the same condition. It was that hip misplacement that made Henrietta’s mother unable to give birth to the child she carried. Every doctor we have consulted has predicted that Henrietta will encounter the same problem.”

“Have you seen doctors in London?”

“Not in London, but several good men in this area. And they all agreed. This is partly my fault,” Lady Holkham continued. “Henrietta knows, of course, that she should not bear children. However, I only realized today that she may not realize the ramifications of her condition. In other words, your disinclination to have children seemed to solve the problem. She does not realize that marriage brings with it certain responsibilities.” She said the word responsibilities with a bleak distaste that said volumes.

She meant intercourse, clearly. With one part of his brain Darby noted that Lady Holkham’s distaste for the marital act had probably led to a lack of clarity in her conversations with Henrietta.

But the other part of his mind was reeling in shock and unwilling to accept the implications of the conversation.

“What you are saying is that Henrietta has no idea that impregnation follows intercourse,” he said. Lady Holkham visibly bridled at his unrefined language.

“Precisely.” She rose. “I am sorry to deliver such disappoint-134 Eloisa James

ing news, Mr. Darby.” She looked down her nose at him. “I think you will find there are other heiresses in the vicinity, should you wish to remain in Limpley Stoke.”

Darby bowed. What had just happened was part and parcel of his life in the last year or so. Naturally, when he met a woman whom he could contemplate marrying, she was ineligible. Naturally. The instance was in tune with the death of his parents, the death of his uncle, and his unexpected guardianship of two small girls.

“I trust you can give my apologies to Lady Henrietta? I find that I have forgotten an appointment and I cannot meet her this afternoon.”

“I will.”

The woman’s eyes were shining with tears, but Darby didn’t give a damn. What he really wanted was one stiff brandy.

Or five.

From that realization it was a matter of an hour before he found himself in The Trout, surrounded by men discoursing on precisely the correct subject: wives.

“It’s not that I don’t like her,” the man next to him was saying painstakingly. He was a fresh-faced young fellow with a laborer’s body and a tolerance for alcohol that amazed even Darby. “I do like her. But she hit me with a skillet. Who could forgive such a thing?”

Darby nodded. “No one,” he said, swallowing the last of his glass of brandy. He forgot what number it was.

“No man could forgive her for such a thing,” the lad said, sounding as if he needed to be convinced.