Read An Heir of Uncertainty Online

Authors: Alyssa Everett

An Heir of Uncertainty (27 page)

BOOK: An Heir of Uncertainty
8.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“That was your idea of begging?” He cupped her cheek in his palm and smiled. “You clearly don’t know what real begging sounds like, at least when it comes to amorous attentions.”

She laughed. “If you teach me, will I be the one doing the begging, or will you?”

He nuzzled her neck, his lips brushing the curve of her shoulder, his breath warm on her skin. “Ideally, a little of both.” He whispered hoarsely against her ear, “I want so much to make love to you right now. But I want to do it properly, indoors, in a comfortable bed, where I can explore every inch of you, slowly and thoroughly.”

She set her hands on his shoulders, steadying herself against a dizzying combination of happiness and desire. “How soon can we be married?”

He lifted his head, a faint, thoughtful frown on his lips. “I’d
like
to marry you tomorrow. We
could
marry as soon as I can ride to York and obtain a license.” He gave her a wistful look. “But I think we
should
wait, and marry after your baby is born.”

“But I thought—”

He held up his hand in a staying gesture. “Hear me out, please. It doesn’t matter one whit to me whether your baby is a boy or a girl, at least not when it comes to marrying you. This isn’t about the inheritance. But if we marry now, before you’re even showing, small-minded scandalmongers like Sir John may claim you were never carrying Radbourne’s child at all, and while legally none of that could prevent your son from inheriting, I wouldn’t want you or your child dogged by that kind of gossip.” He scratched just behind his ear. “And there’s also the matter of your recent bereavement.”

“I hate to admit it, but you’re right.” A little of her old caution tempering her eagerness, she looked down. “As much as I love you, it would appear disrespectful to Edward’s memory to marry so soon after his death.”

Win sighed. “I was rather hoping you’d talk me out of waiting. Sometimes doing the right thing can be damned hard.”

She brightened, lifting her eyes to his. “What if we were to marry at the beginning of June? Edward will have been dead six months by then. I should be showing, with my lying-in less than three months off. And if we wait until after the baby is born, those same small-minded scandalmongers may suppose that whichever one of us ends up disadvantaged is only marrying for the fortune. I wouldn’t want
you
dogged by
that
kind of gossip.”

“Four more months...” He nodded and broke into one of his brilliant smiles, dimples and all. “My arm will be mended by then too. It won’t be easy, but if your late husband could wait three years to marry you, I suppose I can last four months.”

“Then again, June does seem a long way off.” Pressing herself against him, she drew his head down for another kiss. “We don’t have to wait for
everything
...”

Chapter Twenty-Two

For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.

—William Congreve

What worried Lina wasn’t the experience itself, but that Win looked so anxious. She wasn’t used to seeing Win appear anxious about anything. Even in the worst crisis, he usually showed little sign of concern beyond squaring his shoulders and assuming a determined expression.

But Dr. Strickland had allowed him to look in several times during the day, and despite Win’s smiling at her and trying to appear nonchalant, the worried look in his eyes had been impossible to miss.

While she’d still had the energy, she’d urged him to go downstairs and have a drink. “It could be hours and hours yet.”

He’d only shaken his head. “No, I’m not going to drink myself into a fog. I can take it if you can.”

She’d given a halfhearted laugh at his seriousness—after all, she had no choice but to take it, and no one would blame an expectant stepfather for having a drink or two to calm his nerves, even if there weren’t a title and fortune riding on the new arrival. What could he do at such a time, even if things did go wrong? Still, he’d looked so tense and so worried, she truly believed he would’ve traded places with her if he could have.

The last time he was allowed up, the sun was already setting and she was much more uncomfortable. She hoped it didn’t show, but certainly Win looked rather pale himself, regarding her from the doorway. He had to be thinking about his first wife, and how she’d died in childbirth.

“It will all turn out fine,” Lina assured him.

“Of course it will.” He spoke with a bluff confidence she could tell he didn’t really feel. “After what we’ve already been through, I’m convinced you have nine lives.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She summoned a smile. “By my count, I should have at least five more to go.”

* * *

“Colonel Vaughan?” said Dr. Strickland, coming slowly down the stairs.

Win, standing in the hall with his hands balled into fists, looked up nervously. “Yes?”

The doctor smiled. “That’s the last time anyone will call you by your military rank. From now on, it’s ‘my lord.’ She’s had a girl—a fine, healthy daughter. Congratulations.”

“Oh, thank God.” Win was so relieved, he thought his legs might actually give out under him. “For the healthy part, I mean. At this point, I’ve never cared less about the title. And my wife...?” he said, quickly mastering the impulse to fall down on his knees in thanksgiving. “You wouldn’t be grinning that way if she weren’t also well, I trust?”

“She came through it with flying colors.” Dr. Strickland observed his reaction with a tolerant smile. The doctor had been in the habit of calling regularly at the abbey, at least up until the wedding. He’d come a bit less often in recent weeks, though he’d remained interested in news of Cassandra Douglass. While he appeared to have accepted that Lina’s sister would always require careful supervision, it hadn’t stopped him from asking about her.

“How soon can I see her?”

“You’re welcome to go up now, if you like. I’m sure Lady Rad—”

Before Dr. Strickland could finish, Win had charged past him and was bolting up the stairs, taking two at a time.

He made a beeline for their bedroom. Another little girl—a sister for Julia—and Lina was well. Those were the only things that mattered at the moment, though he supposed in time it would sink in that he’d become the Earl of Radbourne and the undisputed owner of Belryth Abbey too. But for now—for now, he had no words for it, he was so wildly happy and relieved.

He threw open the door and stopped suddenly in the doorway, drinking in the sight of Lina.

Beautiful. She was beautiful. And so was her baby—
their
baby, as far as he was concerned—a tiny, swaddled, red-faced thing Lina was holding tenderly in the crook of one arm. The baby looked too small to be an actual human being, though he was sure Julia must once have been that size.

Lina looked up and beamed at him, her eyes shining. “Come and see her, Win. Haven’t I done some marvelous work?”

He meant to tell her how proud he felt, looking at them. Instead he merely nodded mutely, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

“Lady Serena Vaughan,” Lina said as he came to stand beside the bed. “Julia will be happy we could use the name she picked out, though next time I’m convinced it will be a boy.”

“Next time?” he managed with a good imitation of nonchalance.

“Well, of course.” She gazed down at the sleeping baby. “You’ll need an heir, now that you’re Earl of Radbourne. I’m sure Freddie would make a fine peer, but he’s much happier looking after his birds.”

Win started to laugh. He couldn’t help it—the joy just came bubbling out of him for no good reason. Was it really possible to be so happy one couldn’t keep from laughing, or had the experience of becoming a new stepfather and a nobleman on the same day propelled him into near-hysteria? He decided it didn’t matter.

Lina gave him a doubtful look that told him she had no idea what was so funny, though she soon joined in a little, adding a giggle or two of her own. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” he said when his hilarity subsided a bit. “Or no. I can’t help it.” He wiped at his eyes, which were actually tearing up, and broke into a fresh fit of laughter. “I was picturing Freddie taking a seat in Parliament, sponsoring bill after bill favoring pigeons.” He gulped. “I suppose we really ought to have a boy, when you’re ready to give it a try.”

She smiled up at him, looking tired but every bit as happy as he was. He sat down gently on the bed beside her and waited for the hysterical lightness to fade. When eventually it did, he leaned across the sleeping baby to kiss her. “I think I must have paced a furrow at the foot of the stairs, waiting to hear you were safely delivered.”

“Don’t tell me you waited in the hall the whole time.”

“Well, Dr. Strickland didn’t seem to need my help, and I wasn’t about to waste the time it would take to fetch me from the study or the drawing room once there was news.” Giddy joy bubbled up inside him again. He tried to hold it in, but the most sobriety he could manage was a smile that stretched from ear to ear, ending in a convulsive hiccup of laughter.

Lina looked sidelong at him. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Don’t worry, there’s no cause to fear for my reason. I just never expected to be this happy.”

“O ye of little faith,” she said, and slipped her hand into his. “You’d better get used to it.”

* * * * *

Craving more historical romance?

Look no further than these other enthralling releases from Alyssa Everett, available now!

Lord of Secrets

Rosalie Whitwell has spent most of her life sailing the globe with her adventurous father, dreaming of the day she can settle in one place long enough to have a home and family of her own. When her father suffers a fatal heart attack in the middle of the North Atlantic, Rosalie turns in her panic to a fellow passenger—the cool, reclusive Lord Deal.

As the voyage nears its end, Lord Deal is compelled to propose. But on their wedding night, Rosalie gets an unwelcome surprise: her handsome husband is strangely reluctant to consummate the marriage. Does she fall short of her groom’s expectations? Or is he hiding a secret past that only she can unlock?

Ruined by Rumor

After waiting five years for her fiancé to return from the war and marry her, Roxana Langley has been jilted! She may have longed for excitement, but this was not what she had in mind...

Who could possibly throw over a woman as beautiful and vivacious as Roxana? Certainly not Alex Winslow, the Earl of Ayersley, who has spent years trying in vain to forget his unrequited love. When he learns she’s been abandoned by her cad of a fiancé, he finds himself offering a shoulder for her to cry on. Comfort soon turns into a passionate kiss—and scandal when they are caught in an embrace.

Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers and much more!

Visit
CarinaPress.com

We like you—why not like us on Facebook:
Facebook.com/CarinaPress

Follow us on Twitter:
Twitter.com/CarinaPress

About the Author

Alyssa Everett grew up in Florida, where from an early age her favorite books typically had dukes in them. As a teen she worked in an amusement park, doing just about every kind of odd job a person can do, from collecting garbage to captaining an African boat cruise.

She met her future husband at Harvard University. They currently live with their three children and a springer spaniel in small-town Pennsylvania.

An Heir of Uncertainty
is her fourth regency romance.

Where no great story goes untold.
The variety you want to read, the stories authors have always wanted to write.
With new releases every week, your next great read is just a download away!

Keep in touch with Carina Press:
Read our blog:
www.CarinaPress.com/blog
Follow us on Twitter:
www.twitter.com/CarinaPress
Become a fan on Facebook:
www.facebook.com/CarinaPress

BOOK: An Heir of Uncertainty
8.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Kyn 3: Feral by Mina Carter
Quicksilver by R.J. Anderson
A Gallant Gamble by Jackie Williams
Show Business Kills by Iris Rainer Dart
Fearless in High Heels by Gemma Halliday
Exile by Al Sarrantonio
Superviviente by Chuck Palahniuk
The Spy on Third Base by Matt Christopher