Miss Winters Proposes

by Frances Fowlkes

  What if…? What if she was with child? He had not once stopped to consider the possibility.

  “Is she—”

  “With child?” Meadowcroft asked.

  Benjamin nodded, his mind numb with the possibility. The last time they had…Christ. She must be near the time of delivery.

  “Yes.”

  Dear Jesus.

  He called to his butler to have his horse saddled and his bag packed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Juliet sat back in her chair, clutching the round globe of her stomach, the baby rolling against the insides of her womb, one particularly pointed bone ramming uncomfortably against her lower chest. The aches of the last few weeks were becoming more regular, the pressure in her abdomen causing great discomfort both in her daily routine, and in her evening one.

  She could only presume, what with the housekeeper’s watchful eye and constant attention, the end of her term was drawing near.

  Juliet would be a mother. And Benjamin a father.

  Juliet heaved off the library chair and made her way to the sitting room down the hall. Such news should bring elation, anticipation, or at least excitement—but the baby’s impending arrival only made her weary. Saddened. And uncertain.

  Her lids closed, blinking back the wave of tears that so often accompanied her thoughts. It would not do well for her to be so morose. She did want anyone thinking her incapable and unhappy, even if the truth were otherwise. She had her hounds. Her success. And solitude.

  After all, she had grown used to the coolness and the echoing silence of the house. There was a certain appeal to the quiet—one of tranquil reflection, really. But, as with all good things, it was best enjoyed in moderation.

  She hadn’t realized this to its full extent, of course, until Mr. Meadowcroft had visited and his jovial conversation had reminded her of just how very alone she was.

  Juliet perked her ears, the sound of footsteps echoing off the stone floors catching her interest. Likely it was the housekeeper come to check on her, to make certain she was not in the early stages of delivery…

  She lifted her head to see her husband, travel weary, his dark hair matted to his head, staring at her from across the room.

  Her body warmed at his presence, her nerves jumping as they recalled his touch and precisely what it felt like to be held by his arms.

  Which, of course, infuriated her.

  What was he doing here? Now? After months of silence, of not even a single missive? And before the end of her term?

  Her breath quickened, and tears of pent-up anger pricked against the back of her lids. Juliet’s fingers curled into tight little fists. She was managing well without his assistance, her success with Cleo’s first litter a testament to her abilities. Indeed, she was running Evenrood with nary a complaint with the generous sum he allotted for her living expenses. Everything was perfect.

  The housekeeper rushed passed her husband, her harried face revealing her concern. She took Juliet’s hand. “Perhaps you should leave us, my lord. We don’t want to overtax the poor girl.”

  Benjamin’s rich voice carried across the room, his determined and intent gaze capturing hers. “I don’t intend on leaving her. Now. Or ever.”

  The words hung in the air, her ears receiving the simple message but her head, after months of separation, of hope, of wondering whether he would ever wish to speak to her again, refused to interpret the dialogue.

  Her heart raced and, as if the child she carried knew its father was present, began to tumble and kick inside her.

  Juliet’s slipped her hands out of the housekeeper’s grasp to rest on her abdomen.

  “Juliet?” Benjamin asked, concern coloring his voice.

  She closed her eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze. “I’m fine.”

  The housekeeper’s rough hands once again sought hers. “Why don’t you sit, child? You look a little pale.”

  She was hardly pale, the hours spent wandering in the gardens and playing with the dogs having tinted her complexion. That, combined with the heated flush of her face, no doubt lent her freckled skin a deep rosy hue. Nonetheless, it was likely wise to heed the woman’s advice and head to the comforts of the settee. Her head was swimming, and her back ached more than she cared to admit.

  With a heavy sigh of resignation, she complied. “I suppose sitting would be preferable to standing.”

  Juliet opened her eyes to see two people staring at her with such intensity, she wondered if an insect had landed on her face unaware. “Is there something amiss?”

  Benjamin snorted. “Of course there is something amiss. You carry my child, Juliet. Our child. Had I known sooner, I would have—”

  “Stayed away longer?” she asked. “Or worse, worried yourself into a state of ruin until you’d learned I safely bore your child? Why did you come here, Benjamin? To further berate me for my role in Artemis’s botched whelping? I assure you, the pain of her injury is most acute and, were I to give my apologies a thousand times, it would never be enough to express my sympathies. I did everything I could to prevent her injuries and loss of litter.”

  “I know.”

  Juliet blinked. He did?

  Her housekeeper patted her hand and settled her onto the plush rose-colored settee. “I’ll go ring for tea, my dear.”

  Benjamin knelt down before her, his gaze capturing hers. His eyes were filled with…regret?

  No. She had spent too much of her time wasted on wistful thoughts. He was likely here to see if the child she delivered was his heir…or if further attempts would be required to produce one.

  Her cheeks blazed at the thought of the two of them repeating the exercises necessary to produce more offspring. Because it would never happen. She would not allow him to get close enough to wound her heart again.

  “I have acted poorly, Juliet, and I regret I did not come sooner. I was…lost in my anger, and do not deny I have been both selfish and irresponsible in my behavior toward you.”

  Juliet lifted a brow. Was he…apologizing? “Do you mean to say you seek my forgiveness? For your silence? Your harsh words? Your misdirected blame? For your—”

  “Yes.” He lifted her hand and set it between his, the warmth of his skin and the tenderness of his caress sending blood rushing through her veins.

  No. She didn’t want to feel this…melting, this softening toward him. He had broken her heart—one he still, undeniably, held between his hands.

  “It is not your apologies I seek,” she whispered, trying hard not to let her voice gargle or choke with the emotion straining to infuse her words.

  Benjamin pulled a white handkerchief from inside his jacket and dabbed at the tears staining her cheeks. His hand clutched her chin, his thumb running over the edge of her jaw.

  “What do you want, Juliet? I know you did everything within your power to help Artemis and you cannot be held responsible for the pups’ deaths. Not that you require it, but I have long forgiven you for any mistake or error you might have made in her whelping.”

  Was it possible? Juliet’s heart leaped, her eyes blinking back unshed tears. Had her husband, the one who had so cruelly, yet justly, sent her away, honestly come to seek atonement?

  His satin fingers slid over her face. “I am in fact, ashamed of my behavior, Juliet. I sent you away out of fear. Another loss, another death of someone I cherish, well, I could not bear it. But instead of protecting you, I abandoned you when you needed me the most. And for that, I am truly and utterly sorry. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  Of course she could. He had acted abysmally, yes, and had caused her massive heartache, but this was Benjamin, and her heart knew to whom it belonged. She could not deny him redemption, any more than she could deny her lungs air—especially when he spoke with genuine sincerity…and love.

  Her lips rolled inward. With a deep shuddering sigh, she whispered, “Yes.”

  His mouth seized hers—and despite the housekeeper’s presence, Juliet eagerly responded, h
er lips tingling, her legs…warming?

  With a start, she pulled away, her eyes darting to her lap where a dark stain was appearing between her legs.

  His gaze followed hers, his eyes widening. “Dear God.”

  Her body trembled. Her pulse thundered in her ears. “I’ll have the staff come and see to this.”

  Benjamin stood, his face tight with barely restrained panic. “I’d prefer a physician or midwife.”

  “Why? This is a simple accident. There is no need for anything more than a towel and a change of clothing.” Juliet’s face heated, her hands instinctively resting on her abdomen. Why did this have to happen now? When her husband’s heated lips were on hers after months of being apart?

  The housekeeper knelt beside her, her hands grasping hers as another wave of warm liquid gushed between her legs.

  No. Juliet shook her head. This was not the simple accident she first believed. This was…

  The elder woman peered up at Juliet. “’Tis your time, my lady.”

  …

  Blood roared in his ears, Benjamin’s excited pulse and erratic breaths making his head swim.

  Juliet. His impossible, beautiful wife, stared at him with the same panic that stirred his fears and forced perspiration to bead and pool on his face and forehead. The moment he had feared upon learning of her fragile and life-threatening condition was now here—and he was anxious, terrified, and…not what his wife required.

  She needed his strength, his encouragement, and, well, his love.

  Because he loved her. Benjamin swallowed, his eyes capturing Juliet’s. He loved her, dammit. Loved her spirit, her courage, her passions—and it was bloody well time he told her so—before it was too late.

  He shook the negativity from his mind. Had his sister not delivered a month or so prior? Had she not smiled at him in perfect health with her latest well-fed and cherubic child, as he offered his apologies for being the insolent prig she so had so aptly declared him?

  As with any life experience, risks were involved with childbirth, but he refused to focus on them—not when it was evident his wife required his strength, his attentions, his devotion—all at this moment.

  She reached for him, her hand shaking, and he held it firmly in his grasp. He would not let his fears of death and loss prevent him from being with the woman he loved, at a time when she needed him most.

  He was a viscount. A husband. And a soon-to-be-father. It was time he started acting like the model of the man he wished his possible son to emulate. His wife’s eyes pooled, the tears on their blue surface glistening in the afternoon light. Benjamin tightened his grasp. “I love you.”

  The words were few and simple, but profound. Juliet blinked, her eyes widening. “What?”

  “I love you. All of you. The hounds and the baby included.”

  Her lips quivered and trembled into a wobbly half smile. “Well, we wouldn’t want to omit the hounds.”

  Benjamin shook his head. “Not when I hear nothing but of the accolades of your successful breeding and whelping of Cleo. Her litter is the talk of the ton.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Indeed.” He rubbed his hand over hers, Juliet’s shaking diminishing with his diversions. “Mr. Meadowcroft cannot stop talking about his dog. I have never seen him so puffed with pride—not even after the births of his three healthy children.” He leaned in close, her spicy scent enveloping and teasing him. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  She hiccupped, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “It will be our secret.” Her breath tickled his ear, the slight motion making his blood warm with desire.

  The housekeeper’s rail-thin form knelt beside him. “I hate to interrupt, my lady, but time is of the essence. We need to get you upstairs and ready for the wee one.”

  The tremors in Juliet’s hand increased tenfold, her eyes widening with fear. Benjamin placed his forefinger under her chin. “I am not going anywhere. I will remain here…if you desire as much.”

  “I would. Desire as much, that is. I, I—” She gripped her swollen midsection and let out a cry.

  “Is there anything I can do?” His heart raced, his entire body tensing as he watched his wife.

  The housekeeper’s expression grew stern. “Help me take her to room. I should be able to do the rest until the midwife arrives.”

  He nodded and wrapped his arm around Juliet. Using his weight to counter hers, he lifted her off the settee and into a standing position.

  Her shoulders bent forward, another spasm of pain gripping her body.

  Terrified. He was terrified. Scared out of his mind. The pain, the anguish that lit Juliet’s features…it was near overwhelming.

  Her fingers dug into his arm. The same fear that gripped his heart was reflected in her eyes. He had to be strong. He would not abandon her now…or ever. He bent his knees and settled Juliet’s arm into a comfortable position over his neck. “Let us do as the nice woman says, shall we?”

  She gave him a small smile and nodded. With a hissing of air between clenched teeth, she leaned on him, her steps leading them across the room and into the hall. Pausing to catch her breath, she said, “I have not yet thought of any names to christen the child.” Frantic eyes once again caught his as he slowly urged her forward and up the stairs.

  “That sounds like a task more suited after the baby’s sex is revealed. And one for us to determine together.”

  Her answering smile made his heart race. “I would like that. Very much.”

  The housekeeper opened the door to a gold-and-violet-colored bedroom. “Come along now.”

  Settling Juliet onto the monstrous bed in the equally overlarge space, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You amaze me. If you can sell hounds to the priggish men of the bon ton, you can come through this. Why, I’d even venture to say this is child’s play in comparison to dealing with those boorish and opinionated men.”

  “I do believe both you and your brother-in-law fall under the bon ton description,” she said. Her heated face crinkled with laughter.

  Benjamin adjusted the pillows beside her, punching his fist into the down feathers and plumping them up for his wife. “We do. Which is why I know with complete certainty you will come through this.”

  She gripped his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love you, Benjamin.”

  His pulse thundered in his ears. His heart clenched with joy. She loved him. Despite the silence and heartache of the past half year…she loved him.

  “My lord, please.” The housekeeper crooked her head in the direction of the door.

  With a heavy sigh, he untangled his fingers and gave his wife a kiss. “I love you too, Juliet.”

  And he did. With all his heart.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  “Five hundred pounds. It is my final offer.”

  Juliet’s gaze darted to her husband’s, his affirming nod barely concealing his excitement, the little twitch in his lips a telltale sign of his approval—and his disbelief a duke, a duke for heaven’s sake, would not only vie for her champion stud, but would offer her such a ridiculous sum for the hound.

  Juliet gave her husband a wink before turning to face the duke. “Your Grace, I am flattered. But as your former neighbor and, indeed, as my husband’s friend, I must insist you accept Zeus as a gift.”

  “Why?” The Duke of Waverly arched an aristocratic blond brow. “Because I am a duke?”

  Juliet nodded. “And because of the simple fact that with your ownership, your name will be linked to my kennel. Not my father’s. You are, in short, declaring your approval of a woman hound breeder.”

  “An honor I do not wish lessened by your generosity. Allowing me to pay for the hound declares I incited this transaction and therefore not only approve, but support your line of pointers. A line I have been eager to own since I’ve seen in action this past grouse season. Mr. Lightwood’s constant jaw flapping over the superiority of his stud merely cemented the deal.”

&nbs
p; Juliet laughed, a sound that brought both Cleo and her son bounding to her feet. After a quick scratch under Cleo’s chin, Juliet shifted to her son, a bright, beautiful, and dark replica of his father, and a daily reminder of the love they not only shared, but continually exhibited, as evidenced by her quickly growing midsection.

  “Mr. Lightwood’s stud is not from my line, Your Grace.”

  The duke snapped his fingers together, motioning for Cleo to join him. Running his hands over her smooth coat, he replied, “Precisely. I’ve heard yours is better. If I’m going to gloat, Lady Colwyn, I want to be certain I have the rights to do so.”

  Philip squealed, sounding what it seemed to be his approval at the duke’s logic, his chubby, nearly year-old hands, clapping together.

  “Well, it appears the next Viscount Colwyn approves.”

  The Duke of Waverly chuckled. “A fine fellow. And a smart one, too. He must take after his father.”

  Benjamin stood and reached for the tot, swinging him into the air as the heir of Darlington Hall let out another peal of laughter.

  “Yes, and one who accepts your outrageous and overly excessive payment, if only to settle this deal so we might go and play outside with the hounds.”

  The duke laughed and stood. “An excellent idea. What do you think, Lady Colwyn?”

  Both men turned toward her, the playful musings of her son the only sound in the room. With a smile and nod she offered her approval.

  “I think, you have made a wise, if not plethoric, decision. It is a pleasure doing business with you, Your Grace.”

  Benjamin shifted Philip to one arm and gripped her hand with the other, easing her out of the chair and into a standing position. He said, “The pleasure actually lies in doing business with you, my dear. None of the other breeders are as competent or comely as you by half.”

  Juliet flushed, her husband’s compliment making her skin warm. “It certainly helps to have a supportive and understanding spouse. One who is devoted to seeing my talent and skill for hound breeding thrive.”

  “As he should. One does not need to be educated to see your natural talent with dogs, my lady. In fact, your bitch has caught the attentions of Prinny himself. I would not be remiss in saying he was quite interested in Cleo, here, after she pointed three birds to his hound’s one.” The duke took Philip from Benjamin’s grasp and allowed the tot to pull on his fine, clean cravat.