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Rayne smiled. “I can only do so much, but I assure you, your everyday care of her is what makes for a happy woman in her condition.” She shrugged into her coat and offered a smile. “Good night, Marcus.”
He closed the door and headed back to the drawing room. To his wife who made him happy every day. He smiled thinking how she was so willing to try to cure herself of her fears, almost right
from their wedding night. It didn’t take long for her to succumb to his…charm?
“I can’t believe Sterling ended up on Rayne’s doorstep. I could tell from her expression that she has no liking for the man.” Lizbeth patted the seat next to her.
Marcus lowered himself to the settee and rested his arm along the back. “The man has been in terrible shape for a couple of years now. I knew him in London, and he was fine until he moved to Bath.”
“I wonder what changed him?”
Marcus cupped her head and laid it on his chest. “Not our concern, my love. How is junior today?”
“Kicking like mad.” She sat up and held her stomach. “I knew it!”
He jumped up, apparently ready to run after the doctor. “What?”
“Unless our babe has four feet, I’ve just been kicked here,” she patted one side of her stomach. “And here.” She patted the other side.
“Twins?” Marcus paled.
“So it seems.” She moved her hand back and forth. “Yes. Twins. I’m sure of it.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “What should I do?”
“Do?” She looked startled. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something.”
Patting the seat alongside her again, she said, “My love, you’ve already done your part. The rest is up to me.”
Yes, Marcus had done his part. He took a broken woman and made her whole. Made her live again. Her paintings were selling well, and they had a wonderful marriage. Soon there would be a baby—or babies—to complete their family.
She hated to think Mrs. O’Leary had gotten away with what she’d done to her, but even though she never faced any jail time, she was required to sell her boarding house. Soon after that, she left Bath.
But Lizbeth often wondered how different her life would be had she not been fired and later kidnapped. She most likely would never have met Marcus. Things did always happen for a reason.
“They’re kicking again,” she said, holding her stomach.
Marcus groaned.
The End
