Terri Brisbin (14 page)

In spite of the lightness in her voice, there were shadows in her eyes. Something was bothering her. Everything about the way she held herself, rigid and aloof, warned him. Had she discovered the truth about him?

He stood and walked to her side. “Is there something wrong?” Taking her hand in his, he kissed it and held it as he guided her to a chair.

“I would prefer to stand, if you do not mind.”

Adrian backed away and leaned against his desk. What
could have her so serious? He watched as she did what he usually did when pondering a problem—paced the room. She removed her bonnet and dropped it on a table as she passed, but still she would not look at him directly.

“Miranda,” he said softly. “What is it?”

“I understand the dowager was here earlier.”

“Yes, she was. Does this concern her?” Had his mother approached Miranda with the same suggestion?

“In a way,” she said. Finally she faced him and then sat in the chair nearest him. “This actually concerns all of us, but most especially you, Adrian.” He watched as she twisted her hands together, and his stomach twisted as well.

“How so?”

“I know that your mother and brother only permitted our marriage because of the settlement made by my father.”

“I had some say in it, too, Miranda,” he said.

“I know you did, but if the dowry I brought had not been adequate, even generous, and if the agreement did not allow that most of it could be used for the upkeep of the Warfield estates, the dowager would never have considered me. Truly, Adrian, I have always known this and am not insulted by it. It is the way of things.”

“What brought this up, Miranda? The estates, thanks to the influx of that money, now thrive. Our tenants are well, the lands produce well and the family’s interests flourish.”

“But the family does not.”

“The
family…?
” The realization hit him. “You speak of us not having children yet.” So, she was worried as well?

“Yes, Adrian. As much as you have been patient about it, my failure in this is apparent. Even in spite of our more recent increased frequency of…marital…congress, I have failed to conceive.”

“I do not blame you, Miranda.”
I love you,
he thought. The rest would work out if they had more time, he was certain.

“I had a very frank discussion about this today with Sophie….”

“Lady Allendale? You discussed our procreation or lack of it with that woman?”

“I know you two rub each other the wrong way, but she is my closest and dearest friend. Who else would I talk with about things of this nature?”

“Who indeed?” he replied, wanting to be angry. But he knew he had shared some personal information with Parker. “And Lady Allendale’s recommendations?”

“Do not sound offended, please. We spoke in only the broadest of terms.”

“I am not angry, Miranda. I just was not aware that this was a concern you had.”

“We both know the purpose of marriage, Adrian, and we also know that ours has not been successful in that area. Sophie simply suggested that I should consult, discreetly of course, with a reputable physician who treats these types of problems to see if one exists.”

“A physician, eh?” He hesitated to endorse such an
idea due to his own rather varied experience with doctors lately.

“And a midwife as well. She suggested the one who has attended her in the past and who will be at this birth also.”

He gave a start, not having realized Miranda’s friend was increasing. “I did not know about that.”

“It is not public news yet.”

She was in pain; he could see it in her eyes as she thought about her friend’s news. He walked to her and opened his arms. She stepped into them and accepted his embrace and the comfort he tried to offer her. She did not begin to cry as he thought she might.

“I am happy for them, Adrian, and I want us to share the same kind of joy. I believe that Sophie’s suggestion is a good one, and I would rather know the truth than live under some pretense. You can understand that, can you not?”

Her words tore through him. She was decrying his present behavior without even knowing it, and he felt guilty that he had not shared his truth with her. But it was still better for her not to know the type of news he would tell her.

“I can.” He held her away and then kissed her. “If this is what you want to do, I give my permission for these consultations. Please tell me when you schedule them and I will be there.”

“I will. Now, I should let you get back to your work.” She picked up her bonnet and gloves from the table and walked toward the door.

He could not let her escape without kissing her and making her know how he felt about her. He was at her side before she could touch the doorknob, and had his arms around her, pulling her closer. Touching his lips to her mouth, he breathed in her sweetness and tasted her acceptance. His precious Miranda offered all that she had to him.

“Miranda,” he whispered.

She looked into his eyes and saw so much emotion there. Another man might have blamed her. Another man might have treated her with disdain and continued to humiliate her with other women. All she could see in his eyes was his concern and caring. Overwhelmed by it, she kissed him and then pulled away.

“I…”

I love you, Adrian,
she almost said aloud. She’d said it so many times in her mind since she’d discovered it to be true. “I wondered what the dowager wanted here, if I might ask?”

Had he heard the hitch in her voice? She did not want to burden him by sharing the feelings within her when it was not what he wanted from a wife. Oh, their situation was definitely different than before, but it was still marriage. They cared about each other and were more affectionate to each other, even outside of their chambers. They spent more time together and spoke more to one another. With his health concerns, and now that the subject of an heir had been broached between them, this was not the time to add the matter of soft feelings to the discussion.

“The dowager?” he asked, looking around the room. “Oh, my mother was here about…something about the…she asked my opinion about some possible suitors for Miss Stevenson.” Adrian looked over at the desk, and Miranda noticed a list of names on top of his other papers.

“Is it something I could help you with? I would certainly be willing to give my insight into any whom I have met or know.”

Adrian paused for a moment and then the strangest of smiles crossed his face—one filled with poignancy and humor. “Actually, it could be an immense help to me if you would. A woman’s insight would be just the thing in convincing Miss Stevenson, if the need arises.”

He moved behind his desk and took up a quill. “If you might mention anything you know about these men that might be objectionable? Not so much the positives as any known negatives to them being considered good matches.”

“I think I can manage that.” She smiled, glad that the focus of their conversation had changed from the profound to something more practical.

“Sir Thomas Brown, lately of Devonshire.”

“He is a barrister?”

“Yes, and recently knighted for services to the Crown.”

“No objections.”

“Baron Lindsay?”

“I did not know he was looking for a wife,” she said.

“Recently out of mourning.” He scribbled a note on the paper and then read out another to her. “Baron William Parker, heir to Viscount Parker.”

“Lord Parker? Our Lord Parker?” Shaking her head, she laughed. “That did not come out as I meant it to.”

Adrian’s gaze became intense. “What did you mean to say?”

“I thought that he was a given in this. The dowager has invited him to several suppers and he has paid calls on Miss Stevenson. I thought she would have asked your opinion of a match between them long ago.”

“She did ask me. I am asking for your opinion on it now.”

“I think it would be a fine match. They are of a similar nature and their ages are not so far apart. He seems to enjoy her company in spite of the good-hearted teasing he does. He is respectful of her. A good match would be possible between them.”

Adrian stared at Miranda for a moment before looking back at his list. There was some tension underlying this process. Perhaps he felt put upon by his mother to take part in it when Miss Stevenson was not even family?

“Do you see some problem in that match? He is your friend, after all. You would know him better than I would.”

“I would have no objection to a match,” he said quietly.

They spent another quarter hour reviewing names, recommending some and objecting to others, until she realized something about the list.

“I just noticed something about all of these men, save Lord Parker.”

“What is that?”

“In addition to them being married previously, there is a marked difference in age between all these men and Miss Stevenson.”

Adrian frowned and looked at the names. “Married before? Ah, just so. As to their ages, most hover near the age of forty, not much older than I am. Is that too ancient?”

“For an older matron like myself, no. But Miss Stevenson is still at a tender age and the difference may be too great.”

“An older matron? Is that how you see yourself?”

“I am just past a score and seven, much closer to your age and theirs than Miss Stevenson is at but ten and eight.”

He smiled at her and she grew warm under his gaze. “Now I see your meaning. She is quite young.”

“This is her first Season, as well. It is possible that she will wait for another before settling down.”

Miranda’s husband frowned again as though he had not thought of this possibility. Then he nodded. “Well, I will note your concern over their ages.”

“You are too kind,” she said sarcastically, causing him to laugh aloud.

“Are you free now or do you have some engagement to run off to?” He dabbed the quill to clean it and then put it back in the tray. Stuffing the papers back in his
portfolio, he looked at her with a barely suppressed smile threatening the edges of his mouth.

“I have nothing until the ball this evening at Lord and Lady Harbridge’s.” She wrapped her gloves around her fingers.

“Then, if you would be so kind as to accompany me upstairs, I would like to show you something that might appeal to older matrons such as yourself.”

Adrian walked around the desk and held out his hand to her. Miranda saw this as the sham it was, but whenever he got that mischievous glint in his eyes, it foretold of a wonderful afternoon for her.

“Truly?” She took his hand and walked with him up the stairs to his chambers.

“All this talk of marriage makes me eager to claim my wife.”

“And, Your Grace,” she whispered as they passed by servants busy polishing the railings, “will this be behavior appropriate or inappropriate to someone of your standing?” She could feel her body preparing itself already for his touch. She began to breathe faster as they approached his door.

“Completely inappropriate, I fear. And something never dared with someone of a tender age. Only an older matron would survive it,” he teased.

The heat grew and she felt droplets of perspiration bead up and trickle down her back. She needed to set aside the terribly serious worries of their discussions for a while, and this would be the perfect distraction.

Some hours later, after a light meal to refresh themselves, they climbed into the ducal carriage and went off to the Earl of Harbridge’s ball. Miranda realized as Adrian sat next to her with his hand possessively and inappropriately on her thigh, that she did feel claimed.

And loved from head to toe and every inch in between.

“Y
ou seem nervous.”

“I am nervous.”

“Try to calm yourself. It cannot be a good thing to be nervous when you are examined. Lady Allendale will be present during the interview with the midwife and I will be with you when the physician is here.”

Adrian stood behind her at the dressing table as she brushed her hair. She hoped that the trembling in her hands was not as apparent as it felt to her. This morning’s appointments were crucial to their lives, and she both wanted and feared the outcome.

“What if…?” She began, but could not finish the obvious question on her mind.

Adrian crouched down behind her so that their eyes met in the looking glass. Wrapping his arms around her, he squeezed her.

“You are the brave one, Miranda. As you said, it is
better to know if there is a problem than to live with this fear and ignorance.”

“I do confess that I am not feeling very brave at this moment.” Why had she pressed for this? If he had not raised the question of her fertility or lack of it, why had she?

Because something had changed between them months ago that was a catalyst for so many other things. And although he had referred to it, he had never revealed what the incident was that had sparked all the rest.

“This is something that we should have attended to sooner. Now we will find the answer we seek,” he said.

“Why did we not, Adrian? Why is it such an issue now and not before?” Each time she looked back at the series of events that had brought them to this moment of both bliss and terror, it all pointed back to that day in the spring when he’d got drunk. “What changed those months ago to make this so important now?”

He paled at her words and released her, standing behind her, then walking a few steps away.

“Something happened to you. Tell me that I might understand.”

He offered her a weak smile and shook his head. “As I told you before, there is nothing that you need worry about.”

“Adrian, I want to know…” she said, stopping when a knock sounded at the door.

“When it is time, we will talk about it,” he said as he pulled the door open.

“Your Grace, Lady Allendale is here. She asked to
meet you in the drawing room.” Fisk looked at Adrian and he nodded.

“Finish dressing and come down.” He kissed Miranda’s cheek and walked past Fisk. “See to Her Grace now.”

He felt guilty putting her off, but he was not prepared nor willing to reveal it all to her yet. It simply was not the time. As he left the room to meet with the midwife brought by Lady Allendale, he wondered if he ever would declare it to be such a time.

Whatever preconceived notions he had about the woman Lady Allendale was bringing to discuss the duchess’s concern, the one who curtsied before him did not fit them. Instead of a middle-aged or older woman, this one seemed too young to be experienced in the science of midwifery. Apparently he spoke the words aloud, for both Lady Allendale and the woman stared at him.

“Forgive me, Mrs….?”

“Mrs. James, Your Grace. Mrs. Mark James,” she said as she rose and stood before him.

“Mrs. James, thank you for coming. I believe that Lady Allendale has explained the cause for this call and our need for discretion.”

Lady Allendale sighed loudly and then glared at him. “Mrs. James can be relied upon for her abilities and her discretion, Your Grace.”

Offering them both a seat and waiting for them to take it, he also offered refreshments, which were declined.

“I suspect that you would like to know exactly what
my abilities are,” Mrs. James said, smiling at him. “I believe my age has made you somewhat doubtful that I can be involved in the practice of midwifery.”

He nodded and listened as she explained her background, and realized that he respected her not only for what she had done, but also what she planned to do. As the daughter of a battleground surgeon and then as the wife of a soldier, Mrs. James had found herself treating all types of injuries as one of very few women with any medical knowledge in the camps that grew up around the battlegrounds of France.

Gradually she began to care for the women during childbirth. After her husband had been killed, she remained there, working as she had, until returning to her family several years ago. Now, combining her experience and the additional training she’d sought at various hospitals and colleges, she practiced midwifery.

“Although I claim some experience at helping women through childbirth, I cannot in all good conscience claim an expertise in why some women do not conceive, Your Grace.”

“I certainly appreciate your candor, Mrs. James. Tell me why you are here then, if not to help with this problem.”

“Lady Allendale has given her permission for me to reveal certain personal facts about her to you. If I may?”

Lady Allendale nodded and then looked away as though disinterested. Adrian nodded for her to continue.

“Lady Allendale has a particular difficulty in giving birth, which I discovered during her first birth and was
able to assist with during her second. I have a knowledge of female anatomy that helped determine the cause of her trouble and, so far, we’ve been able to deliver her children safely.”

This was more information of a personal nature or any other than Adrian wanted to know about Lady Allendale. His cravat felt entirely too high, too starched and too tight right now, and he tugged at the edge of it to relieve the pressure.

“Your Grace, we felt it important for you to know the extent of my abilities. I did not mean to speak with such frankness if it offends you.”

“I am not offended, Mrs. James. Indeed, I find a new respect for your work due to your words. And how can this help the duchess?”

“I will examine her to determine if there are any abnormalities in her structure that would seem to prevent her from carrying a baby to term.”

This was entirely too much for any male, even one exposing himself to this type of conversation for all the right reasons. He’d had enough. Lucky for him, Miranda arrived just then and he stood, planning to make an escape.

“I will leave you to your business and be in my study if you need me,” he said, nodding to them as he passed Miranda at the door.

“Your Grace? May I have a moment of your time before you leave?” Mrs. James greeted the duchess and then followed him into the hall.

“Is he blushing, Sophie?” Miranda asked as her husband and Mrs. James spoke in the hall.

“I believe he is,” Sophie said, looking past her. “I must admit he held up longer than I thought he would.” She laughed as Miranda sat down next to her on the couch. “And when Mrs. James mentioned my problem, I thought he turned a bit green.”

Mrs. James returned and explained the process to both of them. When Miranda would have felt some embarrassment, Mrs. James’s calm manner helped her through it. In a half hour’s time and after lots of questions and some not uncomfortable poking, prodding and pressing, it was over, and Mrs. James asked that the duke be summoned.

Although she had been at Miranda’s side through it all, Sophie excused herself when Adrian entered the room. Fisk waited at the door and took Lady Allendale off to freshen herself while the couple spoke in private with Mrs. James.

Although Miranda thought he would stand while receiving this report, Adrian surprised her by sitting at her side. When he took her hand in his and squeezed it, not letting it go, she felt her heart lighten. No matter the news, he was there.

“Your Grace, I found nothing abnormal in my examination of the duchess. I could feel no blockages or unusual growths that would seem to prevent conception or pregnancy.”

“Is there anything else?”

“From the answers you both gave, I suspect there is nothing wrong.”

“Then why have I not conceived?” Miranda asked.

“It takes some women longer than others, Your Grace.”

“We have been married for seven years. Surely that is time enough to accomplish such a thing?” Her frustration was coming through in her voice. Even she could hear it.

“I’m afraid that is not something I can answer. But I think that the news is good. I cannot find any problem physically to cause this.”

“So there is hope, then?” Adrian asked, squeezing her hand once more.

“I do believe there is. With time and a certain level of attention to this…” Mrs. James paused and smiled at both of them. Miranda knew exactly what the woman meant. “…I think you will have children.” The midwife stood and curtsied. “I think this has been a rather exhausting appointment for you both, so I will go now.”

“My thanks, Mrs. James. For your help and advice,” Miranda exclaimed.

“It has been my honor, Your Grace. Your secretary has my directions if you need me for anything. Please do not hesitate to call.”

Sherman opened the door and showed Mrs. James out. Sophie returned a moment later.

“I will not ask what she said, but was she helpful to you?”

“She was, Sophie. I thank you for suggesting her,” Miranda replied.

“I am grateful, too, Lady Allendale.”

Miranda could tell it was difficult for Adrian to say the words. Sophie looked as though she might tease him over it, but then thought better of it and just nodded.

“I am due at home and, since you do not need me for the next appointment, I will take my leave.”

“Allow me to walk you to the door,” Adrian added, following her friend out into the hallway.

Miranda could see them exchanging words. Then Sophie looked at the duke in shock, and he dipped his head and nodded to her.

Miranda was not certain what had happened, so she waited for his return. “What did you say to her? I have never seen quite that expression on her face before.”

“I may live to regret this, but I told her she was welcome here at any time.”

“Did you? I know how difficult it was for you to make such an offer.”

His face showed a mix of regret, horror and resignation. She laughed for a moment and then quieted as she realized they had to talk about Mrs. James’s visit. Miranda sat back down and watched as Adrian poured himself a glass of brandy. Although she could use something to help her calm her nerves and fortify herself for Dr. Blake’s call, she did not dare ask for a dose. The thought of the same examination being conducted by a man, even with her husband at her side, was somewhat overwhelming.

“Overall, Mrs. James was more hopeful than I thought she would be,” Adrian began. “Did you think her credible?”

“You spoke to her at some length before I arrived. Did she speak to you about her experience and training?”

“Miranda, you have just answered my question with a question of your own.” He sat down at her side again and took her hand. “Tell me what
you
thought of her.”

“Sophie has such confidence in her. Now, after meeting her and talking to her myself, I do as well.”

“I was quite impressed by her manner of investigating and her knowledge. And, of course, she told us what we wanted to hear.” A frown settled on his brow as he looked at Miranda. “Still, I think she is correct in this. There is nothing wrong that enough time and attention will not resolve.”

He took another mouthful of brandy and Miranda knew that if he met her gaze, she would see that sad, almost mournful expression there. What could she do for him now?

“I do not mind the attention, Adrian.”

He did smile then and raised his glass in a salute. “Nor do I.” He glanced across the room at the clock on the mantel. “What time do we expect Dr. Blake to arrive?”

“In about an hour or so.”

“Would you excuse me for a short time? I have some papers to look over.” He stood, but didn’t wait for her reply. “I will return before Dr. Blake arrives.”

Miranda watched him leave, knowing something was
profoundly wrong. Instead of the joy or, at the least, relief over the midwife’s comments, he appeared to be bothered by them. Certainly Mrs. James had outlined her limitations, but overall, Miranda felt a sense of hope at her prognosis. She supposed that her husband was being more pragmatic over it.

She rang for tea, and asked for the strong coffee that he so liked to be delivered to Adrian in his study, while they waited for the “preeminent Dr. Blake,” as Sophie had described him. Her friend had no personal knowledge of him, but had been referred to him by several others. And, of course, he had attended several of the queen’s children’s births. Miranda had even secured a copy of his treatise on childbirth and his opinions of the “expected behavior of women of good character during their lying-in.”

Not that she was near to that “revered and anticipated” state, but she found the presentation to be lacking in firm details about the process itself. If the doctor was anything like his writing style, it would be an interesting meeting.

Miranda had just finished her tea when Adrian returned. “I heard the carriage outside. He is here.”

There was a commotion in the hallway as he entered, and then Sherman announced him and opened the door to the drawing room, wider and wider, until it could go no farther. Dr. Blake was the largest man she’d ever beheld. He turned to the side to enter the room and then faced them.

“Your Grace.” He nodded to Adrian and then to her. “Madam.”

“Dr. Blake, thank you for coming,” Adrian said.

“I do not commonly visit patients or prospective patients.” He glanced at Miranda and then back to him. “I came as a favor to your mother, the dowager,” he replied. “I have known her for many years.”

Adrian nearly stopped the interview at that moment. He could see Miranda tense at the mention of his mother, as well. Before he could do anything, the doctor continued, “Now, what seems to be the problem?” Dr. Blake looked around the room, most likely for a place to sit, but there was none save the couch that would hold his bulky figure.

“Your Grace?” Sherman asked from the doorway. At Adrian’s nod, two of the footman came in carrying a large bench.

“Very good, Sherman,” he said, smiling at his butler’s ingenuity and quick thinking. They placed it in the middle of the open spot opposite the couch and left.

The doctor quickly settled on it, pulled out a notebook and opened it. Then, with a snap, he closed it, stored it back in his pocket and looked at him.