Chapter Four
Two months later
Kneeling beside her bed, forearms folded on the mattress, her head propped on her folded arms, Verity moaned as another wave of nausea rolled through her.
She was certainly dying. At least she had known true happiness in the too-brief time of her marriage to the most wonderfully attentive husband imaginable.
“Ma’am, a cloth for your neck,” Mary said and laid a blessedly cool, damp towel over her nape.
Verity moaned again in lieu of thanks.
“Shall I take the bucket or will you need it again?”
“I think I’m through for now. I do hope my mother will arrive before I expire,” she said weakly.
“Yes, ma’am.” She wasn’t sure, but it almost sounded as if Mary was fighting laughter as she let herself out of the bedchamber.
She must be imagining things. What could be amusing about her mother arriving?
The day following that of their wedding ceremony and a night of exquisite lovemaking, Julian had sent a courier to London with letters for their respective families, informing them of their recent marriage.
It seemed when he was no longer worried about Verity’s rejection, he no longer cared about hearing his mother’s “I told you so.”
He posted their marriage announcement in the papers the day after the families received word.
Since then, well wishes had poured in from far and wide.
It seemed nobody was surprised or overly alarmed by their marriage, after all.
At least nobody was saying so outright. If they thought it strange Julian had married a woman five years older than himself, one who had shown herself to be infertile, they had kept it to themselves.
Her mother and Julian’s had expressed their displeasure at having been told only after the fact, and both had insisted upon coming to visit. Verity’s would arrive first, any day now—and learn of her daughter’s imminent death.
Certainly death would be preferable to this unpredictable nausea that seemed to strike at any time of the day or night and take her to her knees.
Her antechamber door opened and closed. The subsequent sound of heavy footfalls over the carpet told her Julian had entered and was approaching.
“Darling, again?” he asked, compassion underscoring his words as he crouched beside her. He rubbed the place between her shoulders in soothing caress.
She turned her head to frown at him. “Mary told you? I’m sorry, my love.”
“Why are you sorry? It is me who should be sorry.”
He scooped her, boneless, into his arms and carried her into the antechamber. A moment later he lowered onto one of her satin covered armchairs. “I’ve brought you some ginger tea. They say it’s beneficial for your condition.”
Being held in his arms had a soothing effect, it seemed. Feeling much better, she snuggled against him. “Why should you be sorry? And what condition? You know what it is I’m dying from?”
“Here. First swish.” He held a glass of tepid water to her mouth and she dutifully rinsed. Really, the man was almost perfect.
Next, he poured tea for her and held the china cup to her lips.
She sniffed at the fragrant steam, and caught the slightly spicy scent of ginger. It did seem to settle her stomach. She sipped.
“Darling, you’re not dying.”
She arched a brow at him, sat up straighter, and took the cup from him, cupping it in her hands. “No? I’ve never been ill like this in my life. Not even as a girl. Not even after spinning in circles.” She sipped more of the soothing liquid.
“You’ve also never been with child,” he said, gently.
Luckily, he’d waited to speak until after she’d swallowed. She gasped. “But…that’s not possible. Sylvester said—”
“A lot of things,” Julian cut in. “And he was quite wise when it came to matters of state. Not so when it came to you. As much as he vexed me at times, I’m not sure I would have handled Sylvester as a model husband to you any better.”
She studied him, uncertain how to take his statement. “No? And would you have left the abbey?”
“Of course not. I’d have found a way to endure the torture.”
She set the teacup in its saucer and fingered his white cravat, aware of the smug smile tugging her at lips and not bothering to staunch it. “Because you loved me from the moment you laid eyes on me?”
“Quite,” he agreed.
“You really think I’m with child?”
He nodded, his beautiful eyes going suspiciously misty. “Your lady’s maid assures me you’re late.”
“I’m…” Understanding dawned and elation filled her. “I don’t keep track of that. Is she certain?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
A slow grin curved his mouth. “I think she wanted to give me the privilege. It seems the household staff enjoy seeing their mistress doted upon.”
“See.”
“Now, tell me, madam. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I feel much restored.”
“Good.” In one deft move, he untied the ribbon at her bodice, then began loosening the fabric.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, though she angled her body to make his task easier. Already desire spiraled through her.
“I should like to give you a thorough physical examination, I think, madam wife,” he said, his voice taking on a husky edge. “To be absolutely certain all is well.”
She shook her head. “You are nothing if not vigilant, my lord.”
“Always and forever,” he purred. And then, he kissed her.
The End