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“I can hardly believe it! You look so splendidly—maternal!”

Carola Perwinkle cried. With her short golden curls and pointed little face, she looked a perfect cherub. Esme laughed. “It’s a good thing that I am so fond of you,”

she said, returning her kiss. She held out her hands to Carola’s sweet-faced, quiet husband, Lord Perwinkle. “And how are you, sir? It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

He kissed her hand. “I gather that I have you to thank for Carola’s return to my household, madam. May I say how very, very grateful I am?”

For all he was overabsorbed in fishing, and not very talkative, Tuppy Perwinkle had charming blue eyes. No wonder Carola was so in love with him. “It was my pleasure, sir,” she said, dimpling at him.

Carola broke in, giggling. “I think it was his pleasure!”

Tuppy rolled his eyes. “I can’t keep this baggage from making indiscreet remarks, Lady Rawlings. You must forgive us.”

“Please, do call me Esme,” she said. “Your wife and I are very old friends, you know.”

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“It would be an honor,” he said.

“Go away, Tuppy, do,” his wife said. “I must speak to Esme. Why don’t you make certain that our bags are all removed to our chamber?”

Esme caught the smile he sent Carola and surprised herself by a deep flash of jealousy. There was something so enticing in the way their eyes met, and his held such a potent blend of love and attraction and lust. She swallowed down an attack of self-pity.

Carola dropped next to her on the settee as if such looks from her husband were not out of the ordinary, and stared at Esme’s stomach.

Esme looked too. She was wearing a fashionable mourning gown of plain white satin cloth, trimmed around the bosom and sleeves with black lace points. Even though the gown looked entrancing when she chose the pattern, there was no getting around the fact that satin seemed to magnify her stomach. Sitting next to Carola, her stomach looked like a sparkling, shimmering mound claiming attention.

“Where on earth did that come from?” Carola said in a wondering voice.

Esme laughed. “If you don’t know yet, I’m going to leave it up to your husband to explain.”

“I didn’t mean that! I meant that I just saw you a mere six months ago, and you were as thin as a—as a twig!” Carola said. “It was I who was whinging about my figure, do you remember?” Her eyes wandered up to Esme’s bodice line.

“If I recall correctly, you thought your bosom was too large. Well, wait until you’re carrying a child.”

Carola blushed and leaned closer. “I have the most wonderful news—I am!”

“Oh, Carola,” Esme said, kissing her on the cheek. “I’m so very happy for you, and for Tuppy as well.”

“He doesn’t know yet.” Carola had a cat-in-the-cream type of smile. “I was only certain myself a few days ago, and I’m Fool for Love

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waiting for just the right moment to tell him. Perhaps after our next fight.”

“Are you still fighting? I thought all was sunlight and roses now.”

Carola shrugged. “How can anyone live with a man and not argue with him? The first quarrel we had after I moved back in the house, I was devastated. Terrified, really. I thought he might up and leave, or ask me to leave, and I simply wouldn’t be able to bear it.” Her voice trailed off. Esme pressed her hand. “What happened?”

A smile teased the corner of Carola’s mouth. “He had stamped off to the stables, and I was rushing about my sitting room, not really doing anything, but trying not to think. Because I was afraid that if I thought about it, I would have to leave him, you understand.”

Esme nodded.

“Well, he came to me,” she said simply. “We”—she lowered her voice— “we ended up making love in the sitting room—have you ever heard of such an outrageous thing?”

Esme bit back a smile. “Yes,” she said gravely.