A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (34 page)

“Well,” the marquess’ voice boomed. “It
seems Lydia is expecting again.”

That got Brendan’s attention. “Little Laurel
is only a few months old.”

“Three children in as many years,” Chet
agreed with a grin. “Our old friend is making up for lost
time.”

“Apparently.”

“Carteret seems to think he won’t stop ‘til
he gets a son.”

Chet’s youngest step-son sucked in a breath.
“Ya promised Mama ya wouldna say anything about Uncle James
anymore.”

The marquess ruffled the young boy’s hair
and winked. “This time it wasn’t anything unkind, Ewan. Now turn
around or you’ll miss the show.”

All three boys sat forward in their seats,
and Brendan enjoyed seeing the enthusiasm in Thomas’ countenance.
He’d try to make sure his nephew got the most out of the evening.
“You promised Hannah you wouldn’t say anything else ruthless about
her brother?” At one point it had been his favorite pastime.

Chet shrugged. “I suppose he’s grown on me,
and he does love his sister and our boys.”

Brendan shook his head. He had
brother-in-law troubles of his own. “I would trade you Lord
Carteret for Lord Avery any day of the week.” At least Carteret
always had his sister’s best interests at heart, misguided as he
may have been in the past.

Chet settled back in his seat, smiling
indulgently as Ewan squealed with delight when the first horses and
riders entered the amphitheatre. “That bad, huh? I didn’t know
anyone would be willing to take Carteret off my hands.”

The marquess’ oldest boy looked over his
shoulder at the two men and Chet chuckled. “All right, Alasdair,
there’s no need to tell your mother about that last one.” Then he
refocused on Brendan, his light eyes more serious than usual. “So,
is it the brother you object to? Or the sister?”

Brendan snorted. Only Chet would dare ask
him that question. It came from years of playing the role as his
older brother. “Weren’t you the one who spread our romantic tale
throughout Town?”

“Aye, that’s why I’m asking.”

With a sigh, Brendan met his friend’s eyes.
“Cordie is perfect for me. I am much more fortunate this time
around. She is the wife I always should have had.”

Chet nodded. “I am glad to hear it. And she
has pulled off quite the miracle, your wife.”

“Oh?”

“Mother adores her. I had been worried the
girl was the devil incarnate to have garnered such blind loyalty
from the old dragon.”

Brendan grinned. Lady Astwick was a bit of a
dragon, though she saved most of her barbs for her only remaining
son. “Is that why she and Hannah are hosting this soiree?”

“I didn’t have a prayer of stopping them.
Ever since Caroline told them you were coming back to Town, they’ve
been making plans and sending out invitations and—”

“What if we’d sent our regards?”

“You would never ignore a summons from my
mother.”

True, no one would. Still… “I think
something is wrong with Cordie.”

The three boys cheered wildly at an
acrobatic stunt Brendan had somehow missed. He turned his attention
briefly to the center of the amphitheatre where a woman stood on
the back of a horse, her arms outstretched towards the
audience.

“Why do you think something is wrong?” Chet
asked.

“It’s her health. I think she’s hiding
something from me.” He’d catch her in pain, but whenever she
noticed him, she’d feign a bright smile and pretend as though
everything was fine. “It’s maddening.”

Chet chuckled. “Welcome to the world of
marriage, my friend.”

***           

Cordie leaned back in her chair and closed
her eyes. It would take Rose another five minutes to decide which
card she wanted to play in their game of piquet. Her sister-in-law
hummed lightly to herself and Cordie wished her headache
away.  She hadn’t felt right ever since Greg sent his note
informing them he couldn’t locate Brendan’s lost letters.

A light scratch sounded at the door, and she
sat forward, opening her eyes. “Come.”

Higgins pushed the door open. “Lady
Clayworth, you have a guest.”

“A guest?” she echoed, rising from her seat
to retrieve the calling card.

The Earl of Ericht
glinted off the
heavy vellum. Cordie couldn’t help but smile.  Haversham. She
did owe the marquess a thank you, but perhaps another time. 
Brendan would be furious if he knew Haversham had visited, using an
assumed name, and tried to call on her.  “Please tell Lord
Ericht I am not in, Higgins.”

“Very well, my lady,” the butler replied,
leaving them alone.

As Cordie resumed her seat, Rose regarded
her with confusion. “But, Cordie, you
are
in.”

“Not for Lord Ericht. Besides, I am not
feeling up for visitors at the moment, dear.”

Rose sat forward. “But you’ll feel up to
seeing the modiste again tomorrow, won’t you?”

For their final fittings. Cordie smiled at
her young sister-in-law. Oh, to be free of worry. How she envied
the girl in that way. “You know I’d never miss that, Rose. Now I
believe it is still your turn.” She pointed to the card on the
small table between them.

Rose dropped her hand to the table and
stared at Cordie. “Richard says you changed Brendan’s mind. About
the wedding.”

“I’m certain your brother would have done
the appropriate thing without my help.” Though she was not certain
of any such thing. He was quite stubborn and set in his ways, but
the decision was made and there was no point in wondering what
might have been.

“Thank you,” Rose said with a hushed voice,
though there was no one around to hear her. “I love Richard. I do
not know what I would do if Brendan had said no.”

Cordie squeezed Rose’s hand. “Well, that
didn’t happen. And next week you’ll be married and…”

The room began to spin slightly and Cordie
grasped the table to steady herself. Rose rushed to her side. “Are
you all right?”

She blinked her eyes, then nodded. “I don’t
know what came over me.”

Rose touched Cordie’s brow. “Brendan is
worried about you.”

She shook her head. Her husband didn’t need
something else on his plate. She wasn’t feeling well, but she’d be
fine. There was no use getting him upset over nothing. “Brendan is
always worried about something. Let’s not tell him about this
little thing, all right?”

Rose frowned at that. “I don’t want to keep
a secret from him. He would be very angry with me if he knew.”

Cordie caressed her sister-in-law’s hand.
“It’s not really a secret, dear. I’m fine. He has so much on his
mind at the moment, I don’t want to add to it. If I’m feeling badly
tomorrow, I’ll tell him. I promise.”

“Promise?” Rose asked, gnawing on her bottom
lip.

“I do. Now, dear, it is your turn.”

The game dragged on for hours, and Cordie
felt herself in danger of dozing off more than once. But when
Thomas rushed through the doors of the parlor, gushing over the
show at Astley’s with Brendan in his wake, her game of piquet
finally came to an end.

***           

Damn if his wife didn’t look even paler than
she had before he left for the evening. Brendan had enjoyed such a
nice time with Thomas, Chet and his boys, but he should have been
home with Cordie. What an awful husband he was to have left her in
this state.

He rushed Rose and Thomas off to bed, then
turned his attention to his wife. She looked tired too, her dark
hair down about her shoulders and circles under her eyes.
 “Time you crawled into bed too, love.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She smiled at him,
though he knew it was forced. The image pained his soul.

Brendan slid his arm around her waist and
led her up the stairs towards his chamber. Her foot faltered before
her own door. “I thought you wanted me to climb into bed.”

He ushered her forward. “I’d like to keep
you with me tonight.” So he could keep a close eye on her.

“Brendan,” she chastised. “You snore. I’ll
never get a restful sleep.”

He snorted. He most certainly did
not
snore. At least she’d never complained about it before now. She was
doing poorly and trying to keep it from him. That was obvious, and
her machinations only made his determination stronger. “Then I’ll
stay awake and watch over you.”

“Brendan!”

He opened his door and directed her inside.
“This room faces the west. The sun won’t wake you in the
morning.”

“My room faces west as well,” she grumbled
under her breath, though he caught it. “My nightrail.”

“I’ve played your maid before, Cordie. Now
stop being difficult.” He pulled the bell-pull, unbuttoned her
gown, and when a maid scratched at the door, he asked the girl to
bring the countess’ nightrail and wrapper to him.

In no time he had her dressed and tucked
into his bed. He refused to let her protruding lower lip make him
feel guilty. Something wasn’t right with her and he’d shadow her
every move until Doctor Watts put his mind at ease on the
morrow.

Brendan shed his own clothes and slid under
the counterpane with this wife, pulling her into the cocoon of his
arms. “There, isn’t that better?” he whispered beside her ear.

She interlaced her fingers with his and took
a deep breath. “You make it very difficult for me to remain put-out
with you, you know.”

“That is the plan.” He kissed her hair and
closed his eyes, breathing in her sweet lilac scent.  “Try to
sleep, love. You look very tired.”

“Hmm,” she agreed. “And Rose has me running
all over Town tomorrow.”

Brendan shook his head. “You’re not going
anywhere tomorrow, Cordie. Not unless Doctor Watts says it’s all
right.”

She gasped and turned in his arms. “You sent
for Doctor Watts? But Brendan, I’m fine, I’m—”

“Staying in bed until the doctor says
otherwise.”

***           

Brendan paced his parlor for what felt like
an eternity. How long was Doctor Watts going to stay with his wife?
It must be bad. The man was very busy. He wouldn’t stay to simply
chat.

Rose pouted in the corner that her trip to
the modiste was postponed, though Brendan ignored his sister’s
childlike behavior. She could fall on the floor and pound with her
fists like a toddler for all the good it would do her.

What was keeping the bloody doctor? He was
just about to stomp from the room to find out when Doctor Watts
appeared in the doorway. The old man smiled warmly, which didn’t
put Brendan at ease in the least. He rushed forward. “Well, out
with it. What’s wrong with her?”

“Congratulations, my lord. There is nothing
to worry about. Lady Clayworth is in perfect health—”

“She’s
not
in perfect health. I know
my wife, sir.” He’d always had the utmost respect for Watts.
Apparently that was misplaced.

“You didn’t allow me to finish, my lord. The
countess is in perfect health for an expectant mother. She’ll need
her rest, of course, and she’ll need to eat well, even if she
doesn’t feel like it. But all in all she is quite healthy indeed.
Now I would suggest—”

The air whooshed out of Brendan. He didn’t
hear the last of the doctor’s instructions as he raced down the
hallway, up the stairs, and into his chamber. Cordie lay against
the pillows, her pretty dark hair fanned out beside her. A radiant
smile graced her lips.

He stopped in the doorway like a fool,
simply gaping at her.

“He told you?” she prompted, her emerald
eyes dancing.

Brendan rushed forward and plopped on the
bed beside her. “Did you know? Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been
going out of my mind—”

“I didn’t know,” she assured him. “I thought
it was all from the worry and—”

“No more secrets, ever.” He kissed her
cheek. “I want to know what’s happening all the time. Don’t spare
my feelings, love. I need to know that you’re comfortable and safe
and—”

“I promise,” she said softly.

Brendan placed his hand across her belly,
staring at her in wonder. His child. Their child was there and
growing. He’d never felt such elation.

He’d never had so much to lose before.

Cordie stared at her reflection in the
mirror.  Her dark hair was half swept up and adorned with a
slender silver cord and diamond hairpins. Her new silver gown
shimmered and clung to every curve, much more daring than the
virginal dresses she’d been forced to wear for years. She
remembered coveting Livvie’s new, stylish wardrobe months ago, and
now wondered how much longer her new gowns would fit her.

She rested her hand against her flat belly
and smiled. “You know, little one, by the time I’m able to wear
these new dresses again they’ll be out of fashion.” Not that she
was complaining. The idea of holding Brendan’s child in her arms
made her heart sing.

“You’ll be just a few months younger than
Livvie’s babe. I’m sure you’ll be the best of friends. I do wish
the Kelfield’s were closer. We could experience all of this
together.” Just like she and Livvie had done everything else.

She sighed. Brendan would never agree to a
trip to Hampshire now. Tomorrow morning,  they’d head back for
Derbyshire. Rose’s wedding would be a week later. After that, she
and Brendan would spend her confinement at Bayhurst Court.
 She wanted that, of course, she just wished that Livvie could
be part of it.

“Breathtaking,” Brendan said from the
doorway.

Cordie spun on her heel, grinning at her
husband. “Flatterer.”

He crossed the room and slid his arms around
her waist. “If you’re not feeling up to this, we’ll stay home.”

She laughed. “You just finished telling me
that I was breathtaking.”

“You are.”

“I may never get the chance to wear this
gown again.”

“Well,” he began, rolling his eyes, “heaven
forbid I stand in the way of fashion.”