Chapter Eight #2
To be sure, it was leaps and bounds better than anything she might have been able to coordinate on her own, and she knew she had Gideon to thank for that.
She didn’t doubt that she would have figured something out, had he decided to allow her to retreat to the country and give birth on her own, but it most certainly would not have been anything like this!
She was instantly, wholly in love with Bray Castle and, judging from Gideon’s knowing smile, he was quite pleased about it.
While the grounds were stunning and there were seemingly endless corners and corridors for her to explore, she guessed Gideon would be bored to tears in a few months.
Before her pregnancy, she probably would have felt the same, but so much had changed.
She did not know when it began, but she was suddenly viewing everything differently.
While she might miss the long, hard rides on the mare Gideon kept for her use, she was becoming just as excited about the thoughts of quiet picnics where she and her child could doze in the dappled sunlight.
Spending her evenings laughing so loudly with her friends that they drew disapproving looks was being replaced by imagining what her child’s laughter would sound like.
She wondered how and if Gideon would change, too—not that she really wished for him to change; she was simply curious about how he would adapt to fatherhood.
However, there was plenty of time for that yet.
She’d once heard it said that a woman became a mother when she learned of her pregnancy, but a man became a father when he finally held his babe.
The image of Gideon cradling an infant in his strong arms was enough to make Caroline’s knees weak. She knew how gentle and tender he could be, and also how much power his body possessed. He knew precisely when to employ both.
She was lost in just that thought when Gideon entered the library and discovered her gathering wool. “I’ve always found that particular bit of wainscoting extremely interesting as well,” he remarked, mirth bubbling in his tone.
Caro jumped a little at the sound of his voice. “Gideon! Do not sneak up on me like that,” she admonished, but her ire died away as soon as he pulled her into his side and dropped a chaste peck to the top of her head.
“My apologies. I only came to tell you that all our belongings have been unpacked. Would you care for a broader tour of the grounds now, or would you prefer to rest?”
She gave this a moment’s consideration before answering. “As much as I would love to explore, I think I should have a bit of a lie-down. I’ve been so fatigued lately.”
Concern instantly narrowed Gideon’s eyes. “Are you feeling unwell? Shall I send for a physician?”
“No, I am fine,” she said quickly and placed a hand on his arm so he would not bolt from the room.
“I am told it is common in early pregnancy. I struggle to make it through a single day without a nap.” She screwed up her face, annoyed with how she’d become a doddering old lady. “It’s terribly inconvenient.”
“Luckily for you, we have nowhere to go and no one to see, so you might avail yourself of a lie-down whenever your heart desires.” He leaned in close until his warm breath tickled her ear.
“And I promise I shall never judge you for it.” Then, he scooped her into his arms, ignoring her squeal of surprise, and began carrying her from the cavernous library.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, a little breathless from surprise and the feel of him holding her. More so the latter.
“To bed, of course.”
Caroline met his eyes. He couldn’t mean—
No.
He gave her his cheeky wink, that damned flirtatious gesture he’d used on her and so many others countless times over the years.
He was merely jesting—using suggestive language to get a rise out of her as he always had.
He no more meant to consummate their marriage than she could sprout wings and fly from the top of the parapet.
Caroline did her best not to allow her disappointment to show on her face.
“I will see you to your chamber, ensure everything is to your liking, and then stretch my legs. I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two. I expect you will be wanting to eat then?”
She forced a grateful smile and reminded herself that he was only looking out for her.
“Perfect.” It was everything she could do not to press her face to the curve where his jaw met his throat above his cravat and breathe deeply his scent of leather and tobacco, dark and rich and intoxicating in the best way.
“Do you remember that horse race with Kempton and Brinley?” Caroline murmured, already teetering on the edge of pleasantly drowsy and nearly asleep within the safe cradle of Gideon’s arms and his familiar scent.
She felt his chuckle against her side and heard his smile in his voice. “You felt poorly after we were caught in the rainstorm.”
“And you still insisted upon being admitted to my home. My poor maid did not know how to turn away an earl, and I could not blame her. You can be quite intimidating when you try.” That earned another chuckle.
“When I try?” he scoffed lightly, but Caroline was already drifting back into her memories.
She’d been hardly decent at Gideon’s arrival, wearing nothing more than her nightshift, a wrapper, and an enormous pile of blankets; however, he’d seemed neither to care nor notice.
“You brought with you a parcel of your cook’s best shortbread and two new books from Thorpe’s. I tried to make you leave, but you’d already ordered tea and bone broth for me.”
Gideon had taken command of her tiny household and refused to hear any of her protests. He’d dragged a chair from another part of the flat and into her bedchamber and settled in for an afternoon of chatting and reading. The man had even stoked the fire himself!
Even years ago, there had already been rumors about a relationship between the two of them.
Caroline had believed that, if the world only saw how kind and caring a man he was, how he treated her like his most cherished friend rather than a lover, then they would not say such things.
She’d tried convincing herself that there were not a thousand reasons for her to develop feelings for him.
The facts that he always seemed to know when she was not feeling herself, that he remembered when she mentioned she was looking forward to reading a new publication, and how she adored his cook’s shortbread because the batches from her kitchen always wound up too sweet were not reasons enough alone to assume they shared an explicit relationship…
though they were wonderfully endearing benefits.
This cozy blanket of comforting memories finally lulled Caroline into a deep and restful sleep, so deep that she did not stir when Gideon carefully placed her on the bed, covered her, and, after a moment of indecision, lay down beside her, his planned ride long forgotten.
Caroline and Gideon spent the first week of their honeymoon trip walking and talking, reading with the windows open on rainy days, and staying up late into the evenings playing any one of the countless card games they’d learned over the years.
The two of them fell into a comfortable routine, both entirely unaware that, as they retired separately each night, both were frustrated by the ongoing lack of intimacy.
Neither was willing to take the first step and risk the amiability of these early days of marriage.
For Gideon’s part, there was little he desired more than to share Caroline’s bed again; however, she’d taken such pains to let him know that they would be together only one night.
With her history, the last thing he wished was for her to feel pressured to follow through with anything she did not want.
Unless she came to him expressing interest in exploring their chemistry in bed once again, he would remain respectful and silent.
“If I’d wanted to be a monk,” Gideon grumbled to himself in the wee hours one morning as he palmed his aching cock, “I’d have joined the order or wed a woman I could not stand.”
Caro certainly was not that woman.
In fact, he enjoyed her company far too much.
He was used to seeing her several times each week, but this constant dose of her sharing his home was having a curious impact upon his senses.
He became attuned to her in new ways, began to learn her private quirks and habits.
She preferred breaking her fast with fruit and tea, but she was not picky about the variety, so long as it was fresh.
Following that meal, she enjoyed walking outside if the weather permitted, but laps around the residence worked in a pinch.
She detested fish in all its forms, and this was only exacerbated by her expectant state; however, this did not diminish her enjoyment of the salty sea air that often whistled through the castle’s windows.
He’d learned over the years how she enjoyed a hearty laugh, did not shy away from elaborate pranks, and could hold her drink and gamble with even the most seasoned of lords, but this was different.
Now he witnessed Caro in her quiet moments, and he could not seem to get his fill of watching and learning.
He memorized the curve of her cheek as she tilted her head when she read, the quiet sounds she made when she accidentally fell asleep on the settee in the library, and the new and wonderful smile she displayed when they were in private.
This was, of course, not to say that there were no moments of uncertainty or awkwardness between them, but they worked through them to find a rhythm to their days.
At the start of their second week at Bray Castle, Gideon collected Caroline at the door to her bedchamber as usual.
She greeted him with her usual smile, but it wobbled almost immediately.
All color drained from her complexion and she scrambled away, practically diving for her porcelain washbasin before she tossed up her meager accounts.
Gideon hurdled his shock to follow her. He hadn’t known such sounds could come from such a fragile body.
He rubbed soothing circles along her back as she heaved and groaned.
He felt helpless and lost as he asked, “Is there anything I can do? Anyone I can send for? Does this call for the physician? Are you in pain?” His questions grew progressively more alarmed as her illness continued, and his mind ran in circles.
Caro shook her head as she attempted to regain her composure, breathing in slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. “It is…normal.” She spoke in carefully modulated words as if speaking too loudly or rapidly might set her off again. “Expected.”
“Expected,” he snorted, feeling the worst sort of bastard that this was something she was simply expected to endure as a part of pregnancy. It bothered him to no end that this was the case while he suffered not one bit—his sympathetic nausea notwithstanding. “Is there anything to be done?”
She closed her eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. “Ginger. The doctor suggested sucking on candied ginger or sipping ginger tea might help with—”
“I will find you some ginger,” Gideon said with all the gravity of a Holy Crusader. She slackened against him, drained, and he easily scooped her up and settled her on her bed.
“Don’t,” Caro groaned in mortification when he went to take the washbasin.
“Please,” he scoffed, offering her his lopsided smile to disarm her sensibilities. “I’ve dealt with far worse on an average evening. D’you remember that night with the brandy and the acrobatic dogs?”
“And Blackwood thought he could walk on his hands, too?” Caro chuckled and groaned, holding her abdomen. “Please do not make me laugh; I don’t think I can bear it.”
“Very well. I will return shortly.” Gideon slipped from the room, taking care of the washbasin and summoning the proper staff to have a fresh one brought to Caro in case she required it, and every other set of hands was sent to locate as much ginger as existed in their corner of Kent.
It wasn’t long before Gideon returned to Caro’s chamber bearing a tray of ginger tea, candied ginger, ginger biscuits, dried ginger leather, even a fresh, raw hunk of ginger—anything he could think of to help her.
Some maids had returned bearing other home remedies for nausea; Gideon accepted them all and began a list. He was determined to tick them off one by one until Caro improved.
She was sleeping when he ducked back into her bedchamber, her breathing even and comfortable though she looked pale.
He hoped she would not miss her fruit and her walk that day, and that his offering would be recompense enough.
Quietly, he set the tray on the table beside the bed and was pleased to note that a fresh basin was already waiting, as was a damp cloth to replace the one already resting across her forehead.
After carefully testing its dampness, Gideon decided to change the cloth on her forehead, gently swapping it for the fresh one.
She purred and turned into his touch. The sound was as if she’d run her finger down his spine, a delicious chill traveling in its wake.
He could not resist dipping his head and brushing his lips against her cheek, running the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. Before he did something stupid, he forced himself to straighten and exit the room.
Caroline’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door latch clicking shut.
Her fingertips grazed the fresh, cool cloth on her forehead, and the scent of ginger drew her eyes toward the tray laid nearby.
Beneath the powerful spicy aroma was the familiar fragrance of the man whom she longed for with every ounce of her soul.
His nonjudgmental care of her that day had shown her a new side of him.
She’d always suspected he was putting on a bit of a show whenever they were out with their group of friends—exaggerating his behavior a bit for laughs and shock—but this more relaxed Gideon, this quietly caring and thoughtful man, was even more endearing and attractive to her.
As wonderful as he’d always been, “Gideon in the country” was something else entirely.
It was easy to be with him…and it was even easier to fall more deeply for him.
The last thing she’d expected that morning was for him to comfort her while she was ill and then immediately jump into action to tidy up and do what he could to make her feel better.
She pressed her hand to the cheek he had touched, telling herself that they could either ache separately or make the most of this marriage.