Falling for the Heartbroken Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “Ah. There you are, my darling.”

  “Hello husband.”

  “You look a vision sitting here. Like a flower among lush foliage.”

  “Your Grace! You’re too kind.” Phoebe always enjoyed these little games with her husband.

  “May I join you, Your Grace?” Atwater sat in the chair next to Phoebe’s and took her hand. “We are very lucky, are we not, my love?”

  “Yes, we are. May I tell you something regarding our blessings, Robert?”

  “Oh yes. Why you were going to tell me the other night, then Carlisle showed up and then that vile Bruce person.” Atwater chuckled. “What is it, love? Are you well? Is everything to your liking here on Regent Street?”

  “Yes.” Phoebe’s laughter tinkled delightfully in his ears. “Everything is so wonderful. And I didn’t believe I could be any happier. Until last week.”

  “Last week? What happened last week to cause your happiness to expand, my love. I like seeing you like this. I will do whatever it takes to keep you perpetually happy.” He took her hand in his.

  “You will, will you? Well, then it’s lucky we’re married, Your Grace.”

  “I feel like the luckiest, happiest man in England. Nothing could change it.”

  “The news I have may change it.”

  Suddenly serious, Atwater frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing at all is wrong. In fact, Your Grace, everything is right.” She smiled and brought his hand towards her body. She looked at him deeply and placed his hand on her belly.

  For a moment he just sat there. Lost in his wife’s eyes. Then realization slowly began to dawn on him.

  “Phoebe?”

  She nodded, smiling. “Yes, Your Grace. I am going to have a baby.”

  Chapter 25

  The next morning, the Atwaters saw the Carlisles off. Before she stepped into the carriage, Olivia turned to Phoebe.

  “Your Grace. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

  “It is I who owe you thanks, Olivia. I feel sure that Bruce Wallace would have killed me if it hadn’t been for you, and for that I am very grateful.”

  Carlisle stepped up to Phoebe next. “Thank you, Your Grace,” he said as he held her to him. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

  “But for my husband, you are the only family I have, Your Grace,” Phoebe said with tears in her eyes.

  The new Duke and Duchess boarded their carriage and headed off to Scotland. The guests went home. Mary and Tom went to the family sitting room inside for a few games of whist.

  *******

  Abigail sat at the long table in the servants’ hall with a glass of wine. The Atwaters had given some bottles to the staff to enjoy after the wedding party. It had been a long, albeit, lovely day, and Abby was exhausted. She glanced up from her knitting as Terence entered the hall.

  “Miss Abby. You’re feeling better, I trust.”

  “Oh yes. With all that happens in this house, it’s nearly impossible to remember what happens from one day to the next,” she smiled. “And you, Mr Sheridan? How have you been?”

  “I must say that I’m looking forward to the country, Abby. Hempstead Hall is a grand manor house, but it’s also away from all the hubbub of the city and the prying eyes of the ton.”

  “I understand. This is to be my first summer at Hempstead. I’m very much looking forward to it.”

  “I’m happy you’ve come into the house, Abby. Mrs Cavendish speaks very highly of you. She says you’ve always been a lady’s maid, and for your age, you have quite the sparkling reputation.”

  Abby smiled. “She said that did she?”

  “She did.”

  “Well, I adore it here. Her Grace is a most pleasant employer. She’s a joy to assist. She allows me to experiment with new hairdos. She gave me my own curl iron so I may practice and do her hair in all the latest chignons.”

  “Did you curl your hair today, Miss Abby? It looks lovely.”

  “Thank you, Mr Sheridan,” Abby smiled again.

  “Please. Call me Terence.”

  “Of course. Terence.” She put her eyes back on her work and attempted to still the jumping that her stomach was indulging in.

  *******

  Two days later, the Atwater household made its move to Hempstead Hall.

  Phoebe was happy that her baby would be born there, and as soon as they’d arrived and everyone had eaten dinner, she rang for Mrs Crabtree and Abby to come to her private sitting room on the second floor.

  “You rang, Your Grace?” The two women entered the sitting room.

  “I did. And I’d like you both to sit down, please. I realize there is much to do because you were unable to come out early to open the house. But this won’t take too long, and I hope you will enjoy this news as much as I will enjoy sharing it.”

  “Your Grace! You are with child! I knew it. I could tell by your glow. How wonderful.” Mrs Crabtree burst into tears and reached into her sleeve for a handkerchief.”

  Abby sat dumbfounded. “Is it true, Your Grace? What happy news.”

  “Yes. Yes it is. My baby will be joining us sometime in October.” Phoebe laughed.

  Mrs Crabtree and Abby stood and went to their mistress to give her a congratulatory kiss on the cheek.

  “Your Grace, I will begin now with my herbal preparations to help your little one to grow. I have a tonic already made up that you will take each day. I keep it on hand, Your Grace. Here and there I sell my herbal potions and make a little side money.”

  “Then I shall pay you for it, Mrs Crabtree.” Phoebe smiled.

  “Oh no, Your Grace. That is not necessary. Please accept it as my gift. But please make sure to take a good half wine glass of it per day. Once in the morning and once before bed.”

  “I will see to it, Mrs Crabtree,” Abby supplied. “And, Your Grace, this might be a wonderful time for you to start with your Spanish lessons. Would you like that? You can teach your baby as well. It never hurt anyone to have two languages, or more, under their belt!”

  Phoebe’s laughter chimed into the hallway where Mary was making her way to the sitting room.

  “La! What is this, a little afternoon soiree?”

  “Mary! Come, sit with us. I’ve just shared some news with the ladies here. When did you arrive at Pinebrook?”

  “Late last night; I came around as soon as I was able. Now, what is going on?” Mary’s eyes went from Mrs Crabtree to Abby then back to Phoebe. “You’re with child, aren’t you, Phoebe, ah Your Grace.”

  The other three laughed and clapped their hands.

  “How absolutely wonderful, and when …”

  “October, My Lady,” Abby blurted out.

  “Well then, we have the entire summer to prepare. Such grand news, I believe, Your Grace, that we should have a toast.”

  Phoebe’s laughter heartily increased. “Since my husband is not present, you will do the honours, Mary? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

  “I am.” Mary rose and went to the sideboard. She poured ratafia into four tiny port wine glasses and placed them on a tray. Some ways of doing things are never forgotten. She brought the tray to the table.

  Each took a glass and raised it. “To Duchess Atwater, Duke Atwater, and their new little one about to appear in October. Hear, hear.”

  “Hear, hear!”

  Chapter 26

  Atwater paced back and forth in the library. Phoebe had been fighting birthing pangs for a long time. He’d gotten back from riding yesterday afternoon and been told the labour had begun. He had gone in to see his wife, and then had been shooed away by the other women. It was now suppertime on the second day. His wife had been struggling for over twenty-four hours.

  Tom came to the door of the room. “Your Grace. I came as soon as I was informed. How is she?”

  “Oh I don’t know. The women sent me away. If you ask me, it’s taking too long, Tom.”

  “Now don’t go getting yourself all flustered.
Why don’t we go for a ride? It will take some of this angst away from you. She’s going to be fine, Robert.” Tom sounded confident, but even he knew that the longer it took a baby to be born, the worse things were. Exhaustion, haemorrhage, infection. He shook his head to clear it. “Come, Your Grace.” Tom led him down the back stairs and out to the mews.”

  Jimmy ran out of the stable and bowed awkwardly. “Will you be riding Roy, Your Grace? He’s ready to go. Lord Thomas, which pony would you like?”

  “Whoever you think, Jimmy. Is Dan around?”

  “No, Lord Thomas. This is Dan’s half day. He finished his chores early and went over to Rosemont. He said he needed to get an answer to something he’d asked the housekeeper just before we all went back to London for the season.”

  “Hmm. No mystery there.” Tom chuckled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, Robert, you’re distracted. Clearly, he’s asked the lady to marry him. What will you do when Dan leaves to go to Rosemont? I daresay Jimmy’s up to the task. He’s young, yet, but I think he’s ready. What say you?”

  “Dan is leaving? Tom, has he told you this?”

  “No, Your Grace. I’m surmising. But Rosemont is not that far away. Dan can live with his wife and come here to work. The fair lady, I’m afraid must stay at Rosemont. She is the housekeeper after all.”

  Atwater nodded absentmindedly. “What is taking so long with this labour, Tom?”

  “Your Grace, you must be patient. The little one is taking his time.”

  “It’s a boy, Tom? Have you had a vision? Or have you heard a voice?”

  “I haven’t. In fact, I don’t know why I said that. So, come now. Let us have a ride. It will take your mind off things.”

  “You’re right, Tom.”

  They went into the stable. Jimmy let Roy out to Atwater, and he gave Blackie, Atwater’s newest Irish horse, to Tom. They were mounted and just about to the wilderness of the garden in the back when Abby came running and waving from the house.

  “Your Grace. Come. Hurry.”

  Atwater and Tom looked at each other and then dismounted. They handed the reins to Jimmy and ran for the back door.

  “What is it, Abby? Is everything well?” The colour had left Atwater’s face. He took the stairs two at a time and burst into Phoebe’s chamber from the corridor between his and hers.

  Mrs Crabtree turned with a smile, holding a tiny bundle that scrunched up its little face and made kissing motions with his kitten mouth. “Your Grace. I congratulate you. A fine son.” She handed the bundle to Atwater.

  He was transfixed. Never had he felt such love for any living being. The boy, although just a few minutes old bore a striking resemblance to the Duke. Atwater crossed the room and sat on the edge of Phoebe’s bed. He took her hand.

  “My love. How do you feel?”

  “I’m mighty tired, darling. But, I think this is worth it.” She smiled and feebly reached her hand up to run her finger along the baby’s jaw. “He’s perfect. I’d like to call him ... Thomas.”

  “That sounds wonderful to me, my darling.” Atwater was touched that his wife would consent to naming her first child after his best friend. He’d been meaning to ask her, but he’d thought since she would do all the hard work in birthing his child, she should have the permission to name the baby. And here it had all turned out as he’d wanted.

  Tom had stood by Atwater through thick and thin. He was a true and good friend, through and through. Atwater called from the hall for him to come and see the infant.

  “Your Grace, he favours you in every way. What a handsome little man he is.”

  “And his name is to be Thomas.”

  Tom stopped cooing to the baby and looked at Atwater. “Thomas?”

  “Yes, Lord Thomas Weston. Has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “May I hold him, Robert?”

  “You may, of course.”

  “Well, what do we have here?” Mary had just reached the top of the stairs.

  She strode over to the men. “This must be the newest arrival to our whist club.” She laughed. “May I hold him?”

  Tom carefully handed the swaddled bundle to Mary. “Oh Your Grace! La! If he doesn’t look just like you!”

  “He’s to be named Thomas, Lady Mary.”

  “Thomas?” She looked at her husband who was grinning ear to ear. “Your Grace, you are too kind.”

  “Actually, it was Phoebe’s idea. I mean, I’d thought about asking her, but I’d thought she’d want to pick out our baby’s name, so I said nothing. She just told me that she wanted Thomas for our first child’s name.”

  “Very well then, toastmaster. Do you have a toast in mind?” Mary laughed.

  “I do, but I’d like to wait until Phoebe can partake. She’s tired. It was a very long night.”

  “La, I know. Mrs Crabtree and Abby stayed with her while I went back to Pinebrook for a few hours. The poor thing needs rest. Let me go and see her quickly.

  Phoebe had already drifted off to sleep,

  “Mrs Crabtree, why don’t you get some rest? I can sit with Her Grace.”

  “I will be getting breakfast for His Grace and Lord Thomas. Do you wish anything, My Lady?”

  “Just some tea, Mrs Crabtree, thank you. I’ll let the men eat in the family sitting room. They have much to catch up on.”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  Mary looked at Phoebe sleeping soundly and wondered at all of the events of the last two years that had brought them all here. She decided to wait on sharing the secret she’d been harbouring for two months.

  *******

  Abby was in the kitchen overseeing the preparation of a breakfast tray for Lady Mary. She had a feeling that Her Grace would probably not eat until later in the day. And then she would eat sparingly.

  “Very good, Sally. Mrs Crabtree has taught you well. I think you are housekeeper material, for sure.”

  The girl curtsied. “Thank you, Abby.”

  Abby smiled. “Take this up to Lady Mary. Leave the infusion near the fire to stay warm. Mrs Crabtree said Her Grace must have a sip of this decoction each time she awakens. She won’t like it, but it will help her body to heal quickly.”

  “Yes, Abby.”

  The girl stepped out of the kitchen and headed for the back steps nearly crashing into Terence as she did.

  “Mind, Sally. No need for that all to go on the floor.” Terence smiled at the girl and went into the servants’ hall next to the kitchen.

  Abby sat at the table with a cup of coffee and her knitting. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and she looked rather tired.

  “Abby.”

  Startled, the young woman looked up. “Oh. Mr Sheridan.” She smiled and went back to her knitting. “It was a long night, but I take it Her Grace is as strong as a country peasant girl.”