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“That was your second mistake.”
Edwin eyed him from his bed. “Get out of my house.”
Carter rubbed his knuckles. “In case you were wondering what your first mistake was, it was accosting my betrothed on a public street and insulting her
with an offer that doesn’t bear repeating.”
“Your betrothed? Are you crazy, man? She’s—”
Carter wrapped his hand around Edwin’s neck and pulled him forward, punching him in his soft middle. “Never. Say. That. Word. Again.”
He doubled over and looked up at him. “Do you know about her mother?” He raised his hand up. “Don’t hit me again, or everything I drank last night will come up to greet us. I merely want to know if you are familiar with your future wife’s family?”
“I know everything I need to know. But hear this, Sterling. If you so much as utter one single word about my wife, or her mother, or her aunts, sisters, cousins, or ancestors I will come back for you and I can assure you it won’t be pleasant.”
Edwin straightened and stood long enough to collapse on his bed. He regarded Carter with amazement. “You love her.”
“Just remember what I told you. If anyone offers an opinion to you about Miss Danvers, or solicits your opinion, you will say nothing except flattering things about her. You are to become her champion. Is that understood?”
“I always thought love would do crazy things to a man, and here stands the proof.” He raised his hand in surrender when Carter took one step toward him. “I agree. I will say nothing disparaging about the lady. If I meet her on the streets, or in a shop, or in church, I will treat her with the utmost respect.”
Carter placed his hands on his hips. “From what I saw downstairs, and the condition you are in, it might do you some good to go to church.”
Yes, indeed. Love would do crazy things to a man. Change one’s lifestyle, perhaps?
Chapter 11
It had been a long, tiring, and grueling night, but at six ten the next morning Miss Daisy Evangeline Mallory entered the world, followed by her sister, Miss Grace Ursula Mallory at six twenty-two. Their mother had been right, and twins were tucked away in her womb in such a way that Rayne was unable to detect the second one, although in truth she wasn’t surprised when baby number two started to make her way out.
Lizbeth was exhausted but smiling as she and Marcus gazed at their daughters with wonder. Two little bundles wrapped in soft blankets laid on the bed in front of them, tufts of dark hair sticking up from the edge of the coverlet.
Rayne was always a tad concerned when she announced the gender of the child—in this case children—to the new father. Some men were extremely displeased at the arrival of a daughter, but Marcus was beside himself with happiness.
Lizbeth and her bedding had been cleaned up, and Addie, Lottie and Pamela, who had arrived shortly after Rayne, were bustling around the room, straightening things up, checking on the nappy supply and giving instructions to the nurse who had arrived the night before.
“As Mrs. Mallory’s doctor, I prescribe sleep for my patient. Lizbeth put in a very hard night’s work and she needs rest.” Rayne spoke specifically to Marcus as she packed her medical bag and looked around the room for anything she might have missed.
“Cook is fixing breakfast for all you ladies, so please avail yourselves of a hot meal before returning to your homes.” Marcus kicked off his boots and settled in alongside his wife. “I will be napping with Lizbeth.”
The nurse, introduced earlier as Mrs. Florence Applegate, took the two precious babies into her arms and made for the door. “Mrs. Mallory, are you using a wet nurse I need to contact?” the nurse asked.
“No.” Lizbeth yawned and shook her head. “Just wake me when the babies grow hungry.” She slid down, resting her head on the pillow.
The nurse, Lottie, Addie, Pamela, and Rayne all headed out of the room. As she quietly closed the door, Rayne looked back to see Marcus enfolding an already-sleeping Lizbeth in his arms, placing her head on his chest. Lizbeth murmured in her sleep and shifted to wrap her arm around his waist. Marcus kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. She’d rarely seen such obvious devotion between a couple and was a bit embarrassed to have witnessed such an intimate moment.
A sense of longing swept over her so strong it almost brought her to her knees. Whatever was that all about? That feeling of yearning had certainly never happened to her before when she delivered a baby.
Perhaps once she and Mr. Faulkner-Jones were married, she might have a child or two herself. That is if he stayed in England long enough to accomplish that. Of course, then images of what they needed to do together to produce offspring popped into her mind.
She shuddered, not quite sure if she could do her wifely duty by him. He was cold, formal, and she didn’t know him very well. Since the betrothal had been tucked away in the back of her mind for years, she hadn’t given the man much thought. Now that he was in Bath, insisting on a quick wedding, she had to ask herself if this was something she wanted to do.
Too tired to give much time and attention to that issue, she followed the other women downstairs to the breakfast room. “Ah, tea. Just the thing after a long night.” She took her seat across from Addie. “Now you are a mother and an aunt. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I’m so glad Michael and Noah will have cousins to grow up with.” She looked around the table at the women. “And friends, as well, with Pamela’s son Joseph, Lottie’s little Diana, as well as the two little girls upstairs.”
Pamela raised her cup of tea. “Here is to the ever-expanding Merry Misfits of Bath.”
Almost as if it had been planned, three sets of eyes swung toward Rayne, each woman with speculation and deviousness on her face.
