More Than Charming (25 page)

She nodded and hurried upstairs to the bedchamber, changed into a dressing gown and lay under the covers, trembling ever so slightly. Would he confirm her suspicions? What then? Dr. Morgan followed a short while later, putting an end to her mind’s wanderings. Managing somehow to set aside her embarrassment, she allowed the doctor to perform a rudimentary examination. He gently probed her belly through the bedclothes as she lay still beneath the sheets.

He straightened and smiled widely at her. “I’m happy to say, Lady Roberts,” he said brightly, “that you’re nearly three months along.”

Catherine blinked in surprise. Goodness. Three months! The doctor chuckled at her obvious surprise, causing a blush to color her cheeks.

“And what of the viscount?” the doctor smiled, taking a seat. “Will he be suitably surprised to learn precisely how far along you’ve progressed?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “James doesn’t . . . That is, I don’t believe James suspects . . .”

“I understand, Catherine,” the man said. “You wish to choose the proper time to present him with your news.”

“Yes.”

The doctor nodded and stood to take his leave.

“What of the sickness?” Catherine had to know. “How much longer should it last?”

Dr. Morgan patted her hand reassuringly. “You should feel right as rain in a few weeks, my dear.”

Catherine smiled at the man’s words. After advising her on the proper foods to eat and to take frequent walks for exercise, the doctor let himself out of the chamber. She changed into her tea gown and left the chamber, bound for the parlor once more. Surely James was due to arrive shortly. She must weigh her words carefully. Such unexpected news had to be given in just the right manner.

As if summoning him with her thoughts, the sound of James’s voice reached her from the entryway belowstairs. She froze for a moment, quickly retreating into their chamber. Oh, no. She listened intently to the exchange between her husband and Dr. Morgan.

“Morgan!” James said in obvious surprise. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I was merely paying a call, Roberts,” she heard the doctor say smoothly. “I was disappointed to find you absent.”

“Then you must take tea with Catherine and myself,” James invited. “I take it she’s in the parlor?

“Your wife is abovestairs,” the man said.

Catherine squeezed her eyes shut, groaning softly. Her heart pounded as she waited for her secret to be revealed in a most embarrassing manner.

“Abovestairs?” James wondered aloud. “Why would she—?”

“I believe she’s changing for tea,” the doctor cut in. “I was just seeing myself out.”

Catherine breathed out a sigh of acute relief. Thank you, Dr. Morgan! The doctor took his leave then, having deftly avoided any mention of Catherine’s condition. She shook out her skirts and left her seclusion, taking herself down the stairs. James stood gazing at the front door, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Hello, James,” she said.

James turned to her. He wrapped his arms loosely around her and gave her a gentle kiss.

“Good afternoon, love,” he said. “What did Morgan have to say?”

“Dr. M-Morgan?” she stammered.

“Yes.” James eyed her with open curiosity. “I saw him as he was taking his leave.”

“Oh,” Catherine replied with forced lightness, turning away from him to walk toward the parlor. “He wished to pay a call, husband.”

If James thought there was something amiss, he said nothing. He strode into his study and set his papers on his desk and soon joined her in the parlor for some tea and relaxation.

*     *     *

That night Catherine stood in the dressing room, nervous about her coming conversation with James. There was no putting it off now. When he took himself into his study after dinner, she’d been quite relieved. But now, with him waiting for her on the other side of the door, her stomach was tied in knots. How would she tell him her news? How would he take such surprising tidings?

Steeling herself, she tied the belt of her wrapper and opened the door. She was surprised to find him seated in the chair. His head rested on the back of the chair, his eyes closed as he slowly swirled the brandy in his glass.

“James?” she called softly.

He lifted his head and smiled crookedly at her. “Hello, love,” he said, straightening in the chair. He placed the glass on the table beside the chair and rubbed his hands over his face.

Catherine crossed to him, drinking in his appearance. He wore no jacket or waistcoat and his white shirt was open at the collar. His glossy black hair was tousled, obviously from endlessly raking his fingers through the thick mass. A dark stubble covered his well-chiseled cheeks, lending him a decidedly rakish appearance.

“Are you tired, husband?”

“A bit, yes. The ledgers are not my ideal companions, believe me. Once I catch up with the winter’s ledgers, I should be able to keep up with the ongoing task of seeing to the estate’s business.”

She stepped behind the chair and began to massage his shoulders and neck. “I have every faith in your skill.”

“Mmm, that feels good,” he said in a low voice.

Catherine gently and thoroughly kneaded his muscles. “You’re quite tense, James.”

“Ah, love,” he said, closing his eyes. “Pray, give me a fence to mend or a cottage roof to repair any day.”

She smiled absently as she ran her fingers through his silky hair. She’d tell him of the baby later. After they made love and were cozily tucked in bed. Surely he’d be in a far better frame of mind than he was at present.

James interrupted her train of thought when he grabbed one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “You’re so good to me, Catherine,” he murmured.

At his insistent tugging, she came around the chair to face him. They shared a sweet kiss, one that she ended just as he began to deepen it.

“Sweetheart, what—?” he asked in surprise.

She shook her head to silence him and bent to remove his boots. Running her hands over his long, strong legs, she reached the waistband of his breeches. She stopped to glance at her husband’s face. His eyes glittered in response as she slowly smiled at him. She caressed him through the thin fabric, making him hard beneath her fingers. With a flick of her hand, she unfastened the top button of his breeches. James placed his hand on hers to still it. She arched a brow at him.

“Not yet, love,” he said, pulling her to her feet.

Laughing softly, Catherine unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from the waistband. She removed the garment and ran her hands over his chest, his skin warm and firm beneath her palms as she teased him.

James reached for the belt of her wrapper. “I need to touch you.”

She stood still as he pushed the garment off her shoulders, baring herself to him.

His breath caught, sending a thrill through her. “It may be a trick of the firelight love, but your breasts are so . . .” He gently cupped her breasts, one in each hand. “And your nipples. They look darker.” His thumbs caressed her and she felt herself shiver at his touch. “Sweeter.”

His words flooded her with heat. Just the thought of his beautiful mouth closing over her flesh!

“My God.” He breathed. “You grow more beautiful each day.”

She gasped as he placed his hands on her waist to draw her closer to him. He flicked his tongue over first one nipple then the other, the teasing motion driving her mad. She strained toward him. “James, please.”

He gave her what she craved, closing his mouth over one hardened nub and drawing it into his mouth. The wet heat, the gentle tugging suction . . . Her breasts were no doubt extra-sensitive due to her condition. When he fondled her other nipple with his strong fingers, she nearly climaxed.

She trembled before him, whimpers of pleasure coming from her parted lips as he kept up the most exquisite torture. His mouth left her flesh and she groaned softly.

James let her wrapper fall to the floor as he lifted her onto his lap.

“Catherine,” he said, his mouth close to hers. “Kiss me.”

She did as he asked, running the tip of her tongue along the curve of his lower lip. He shoved his hands into her hair as he crushed his mouth to hers. Their tongues tangled as he pressed her tightly to him. She shifted to straddle him, feeling his arousal so strong and firm against her.

He brought his lips to the crook of her neck, licking and kissing her most sensitive places.

“Oh, James.” She sighed, letting her head fall back as he kissed the hollow of her throat.

His lips found her breast once more. He gently teethed one nipple as she writhed against him. Reaching between their bodies, he found her. She knew she was wet and ready for him, but she wasn’t embarrassed. He thrust his fingers inside of her. She moaned low in her throat.

“God, love,” he rasped.

As she wriggled in his lap, he somehow managed to unbutton his own breeches. She was sobbing now, so close to her release. She felt as though the fire behind them burned her very skin.

“Please, James,” she whispered. “Please . . .”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he ground out. “Yes.”

He grabbed her hips and thrust up into her. She cried out as she came, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. He wouldn’t be still, driving up into her even as she tightened around him once more. He gave in to his release as she found hers again, letting out a shout as he drove higher still.

She collapsed against him, her arms wrapped around him as she rained kisses on his neck, his shoulder. She couldn’t stop the tears when they came, hot and stinging on her cheeks.

“What is it, love?” he asked after a while, kissing her hair, her cheek.

She couldn’t find the words. It was incredible. He was still deep inside of her, his child was nestled beneath her heart, and she loved him more than her own life. She cuddled closer, trying to rein in her emotions.

“James,” she managed to say, still crying. “I love you.”

“Thank you, Catherine.” He buried his face in her hair and ran his hands over her skin. “Oh, the feel of you.” He breathed in deeply. “The smell of you.”

She’d tell him now. He’d know that she carried his child. She lifted her head to face him.

“James,” she began, “I’ve something to—Oh!”

James grinned wickedly as he moved beneath her. He was hard again within her, smooth and hot and ready to take her again.

“But how is this possible?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes glittering. “It’s all you, love.” He kissed her. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

She closed her eyes and moved her hips slightly. The burst of pleasure took her by surprise. He grabbed her hips to still her. With an extreme exercise of control, he lifted her off himself and stood, cradling her in his arms. She gazed wide-eyed up at him and a strangled laugh came from him.

“The bed, sweetheart,” he ground out.

He carried her swiftly to the bed and laid her in the middle of it. He stripped off his breeches and came down on top of her. He held her hands above her head as he entered her with one powerful thrust. They rocked together, Catherine’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he drove her to a stunning climax. He shouted out her name as he joined her, driving even deeper.

A few moments later he rolled off her. She cuddled up beside him in the big bed, running her hand over his chest. “You’re a wonderful lover, James,” she said softly.

He managed a smile. “Only with you, love,” he said, thrilling her. “I’ve never felt passion for another woman like I do for you.”

She turned to stare up at the ceiling. Now. She’d tell him now. “James, I have something to tell you.”

He nodded, his eyes still closed. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked with a yawn.

“Well, this afternoon while you were out . . .”

“Does this have something to do with Morgan’s visit?” he asked absently.

“Yes,” she answered. “You may recall how I’ve been ill of late. Well, Dr. Morgan told me that—”

He sat up in bed. “Tell me you’re all right, Catherine. It’s not serious, is it?”

She smiled at the wording of his question. “Yes, James. Quite serious,” she answered. “I’m having your baby.”

She might have found the look of surprise on his face comical if she wasn’t so worried about his reaction. His beautiful gray eyes stared at her blankly, his well-formed mouth hung open. She waited for what felt like a hundred heartbeats. Oh, surely he was displeased. Suddenly, a smile brighter than she’d ever seen spread across his handsome face.

“A baby?” he asked softly. “Are you certain? Of course you’re certain. Morgan was here, after all,” he said quickly. “Ah, love!” he exclaimed. “A baby!”

He grabbed her to him in a great hug, letting out a loud whoop of joy. She laughed as she allowed his joy to envelop her.

He pulled back to gaze at her, a frown suddenly wrinkling his brow. “Are you all right?” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “What did Morgan say?”

“I’m fine, James. And nearly three months along.”

“Well.” He smiled once more. “That didn’t take us very long now, did it?”

Catherine’s laughter joined his as he hugged her once more. Finally, he lay back down on the bed, taking her with him. He leaned up on one elbow, his eyes running over her from head to toe. He trailed his fingers over her, his hand coming to rest just below her navel.

“Our baby is in here,” he said reverently, kissing her belly.

She nearly wept at the tenderness in his voice. He loved the baby. And one day he’d love her, she was certain. She ran her fingers through his hair as his head rested on her stomach.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered suddenly.

“What is it?”

He lifted his head, anger and worry both clear on his face. “Before, love. When I took you. I was far too rough.”

“No, James,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yes,” he insisted. “I’m a bloody selfish bastard.”

“You’re no such thing,” she assured him. “You’re a magnificent lover, James. And no doubt you will make a magnificent father.”

He blinked. “A father,” he said in wonder.

He drew her into his arms and kissed her gently. “I can scarcely believe it, sweetheart,” he mused, yawning once more. “We’re having a baby.”