Juliet heaved a grateful sigh. “My dearest William. You truly are a saint among men—indeed, a prince.”
He smiled back at her as she took a drink, and then he handed the other glass to Nick.
“You can’t have it both ways,” Nick said with a wink. “Which is he?”
“Neither,” said Will. “I’m only the footman.”
No, he wasn’t a saint or a prince. He was simply her slave—and Nick’s. And that was the way he wanted it to be.
Always.
Chapter Ten
Nick sat across the table from his father-in-law, placidly sipping his wine. It was bad enough having to come up to London for the opening of the June session of Parliament. Enduring a private dinner with the earl bordered on penance, and he was anxious for Clarenhurst to cut to the chase so he could go home to his family.
Juliet and William had accompanied him on the journey, and while his new wife seemed to approve of his town house, he knew how much she longed to be back in the peaceful setting of his country estate. He didn’t blame her. The bustle of the city had never agreed with him. Nevertheless, he had come. This was one session and one vote he did not want to miss.
He paused as it occurred to him that they’d been married almost six weeks. Six weeks of continuous connubial bliss—with her, and with William. He couldn’t speak for William, but Nick had never been happier. Having a husband and a wife appealed to him enormously. Too bad it had to remain a secret. He would’ve loved to see the look on Clarenhurst’s face if he were to tell him the truth. The shock would probably kill him.
“So,” the earl began. “About our arrangement.”
“Arrangement?” Nick echoed. “I wasn’t aware that we had one.”
“I have given you my only daughter. You owe me your vote.”
Nick set down his glass and scratched his head. “Did I sign anything to that effect? I cannot recall ever having done so.”
Clarenhurst took a gulp of his port. “You signed nothing of the kind. We had a gentleman’s agreement.”
“Ah. I see. Pray tell, when did we decide upon the terms of that agreement? And how did we seal the matter? Did we shake hands or simply nod at one another?”
The earl’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t toy with me, Rotherford. You know very well why I invited you to my home, and also why I went to that tiresome gathering of yours and ended up handing over my daughter.”
“Did you by any chance read the wedding contract?”
“What do you mean?”
“Only that there was nothing in it regarding my vote on this or any other issue. Nor was it anything we ever discussed. Surely you must realize that.”
Clarenhurst waved a dismissive hand. “That makes no difference. The only reason I gave my consent was to secure your vote, and you know it.”
“Your daughter was of age at the time of our marriage. Therefore, your consent wasn’t strictly necessary.” Reaching into his pocket, Nick pulled out the document in question. “I read this very carefully before I signed it, and I have since had my solicitor check it over. Strange, there is no mention of votes in it, yet the question of Juliet’s dowry was spelled out in rather vague terms.” He unfolded the paper. “The dowry of Lady Juliet Nordsworth shall not be paid to Nicholas Hartford Pennington, Viscount Rotherford, until such time as Thomas Richard Nordsworth, Earl of Clarenhurst, deems fit. Peculiar wording, don’t you think?”
“Yet you signed it.”
“I did, indeed. It suited me perfectly.”
The earl snorted his disgust. “Not likely. You want her money, don’t you?”
“I have no need of it. I wanted only Juliet. Whether you choose to believe that or not is your choice.”
“Are you implying that I cannot count on your vote tomorrow?”
“Oh, yes,” Nick replied. “You can count on the fact that I will, indeed, cast my vote. However, you cannot in any way influence it.” He arched a brow. “Did you really think you could?”
Clarenhurst’s scowl had been known to strike terror in the hearts of his adversaries, often goading them into headlong flight. Rotherford, however, merely smiled at it.
“You cannot browbeat me, either,” Nick said. “I refuse to be bullied or intimidated, and as I see it, you have no hold over me whatsoever. Nothing legal, anyway.”
“You are married to my daughter,” Clarenhurst shot back.
“Very true. However, that only makes you my father-in-law. Juliet is my wife, and if you ever intend to see her again—or meet your grandchildren—you would do well to remember it.”
“You would keep my grandchildren from me to blackmail me into paying you her dowry?”
“Really, Clarenhurst,” Nick drawled. “Blackmail is such an ugly word, and I believe I’ve already made myself clear on the subject of Juliet’s dowry. I do not want it. I shall put that in writing if necessary.”
“You may not want it, but you cannot stop me from giving it to any child of hers.”
This tactic was so unexpected, Nick nearly choked on his wine. “True,” he conceded. “I cannot—nor can I stop you from giving it to Juliet, although I must caution you not to attempt to use that money as a means to turn my wife or my children against me. You will regret it.”
Clarenhurst glanced up sharply at the steel in Nick’s voice. “Do you seek to threaten me?”
“Not at all,” Nick replied. “Nor will I be threatened by you. I simply wish to make my meaning quite clear.” With a short laugh, he added, “I must say, you surprise me. I had no idea you were so anxious to part with such a large sum.”
The earl shrugged. “My son has yet to produce any offspring after three years of marriage. I hadn’t realized it had been so long until recently.” His face sagged along with his shoulders, erasing the casual nature of his shrug. “Time has a tendency to pass more quickly when one reaches a certain age.”
Which explained a great deal. “And from that, we may safely assume that Juliet’s may be the only grandchildren you will ever have.”
“Just so. They will not inherit the earldom—that would go to my nephew’s son—but every man has pride in his lineage, whether he be an earl or a blacksmith, and I would not wish to see my line die out.”
Nick arched a skeptical brow. “Are you certain that is your only concern? Do you not wish to dandle a grandchild upon your knee before you depart from this life?”
The older man’s brow furrowed, and his chin rose in defiance. “You are too young to understand the motives of a man of my age and station.”
“Oh, I think I can guess,” Nick said, ignoring the earl’s stiff tone. “When one reaches their dotage, one wishes to be surrounded by a loving family rather than receiving occasional duty visits from distant relations who long to be elsewhere.”
Clarenhurst glanced away, the bulging muscles in his jaw belying his efforts at control.
“Dying alone does have its drawbacks,” Nick continued. “Can it be that you are not quite the ogre you are reputed to be?”
A flicker of irritation passed over the earl’s face. “Perhaps not entirely.”
Nick suspected this grudging reply was the best he could hope for at that point. A tiger like the Earl of Clarenhurst wouldn’t change his stripes so easily. Still, it was a start. “I will not prevent you from visiting your grandchildren or your daughter. However, you cannot influence my political views in any way. Do not attempt it.” He paused, contemplating the rich hue of the wine as he swirled it in his glass. “You do know that your bill has no hope of passing, with or without my vote.”
Clarenhurst nodded slowly. “Support is dwindling, despite my continued efforts. I am forced to admit that your political savvy may be greater than my own—if only on this particular issue.”
Nick smiled, knowing how hard it must have been for Clarenhurst to make that admission to a younger man of lesser rank. “Repression is never a good policy, my lord. It only creates the need for rebellion.”
The earl sighed. “I am be
ginning to understand that.”
Nick hoped it wasn’t the only thing his father-in-law understood. Otherwise, he and the earl would clash on a number of issues—not the least of which being what name Nick should give to his heir.
William, perhaps…
* * * *
Juliet hadn’t heard a word from her father since her marriage, but she hadn’t been surprised that the earl’s dinner invitation did not include her—nor had she been disappointed. She’d enjoyed being free of his continuous frowns. She glanced up from her book as Nick entered the drawing room, followed closely by William bearing the tea tray. “How was it?”
“Enlightening,” Nick replied. “I had considered arriving here in disguise and staying in a hotel to avoid the encounter. However, I am very glad I did not.”
Juliet rolled her eyes. “You would never have done such a cowardly thing.”
He bent down and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Perhaps not, but the idea was not without merit.” Taking a seat beside her on the settee, he added, “Never fear, my love. Your esteemed parent shall not sway my vote.”
Juliet nearly choked. “Esteemed parent? Hardly.”
“Nevertheless, he is your father, and, astonishingly enough, he appears to have realized that fact at long last.”
“Really? How so?
“I am pleased to report that he not only wishes to bestow your dowry upon any children you might have, but he is also compelled to admit that his proposed bill is nothing more than a load of pompous hogwash.”
“My dowry?” Juliet stared at him, aghast. “I cannot imagine he would ever wish to part with any of it, nor would he concede defeat of his bill in such a manner.”
“Those were not his exact words,” Nick admitted. “Nevertheless, that is the gist of the matter.” He glanced at William, who was engaged in pouring the tea. “I also informed him that if he wishes to see you—or his grandchild—he must deal with me.”
“Grandchild?” William said with a start. “Have I missed something?”
“Perhaps,” Nick said blithely. “I know Juliet has.” He cocked his head in her direction. “Haven’t you?”
She peered at him through narrowed lids. “I do have my suspicions. However, I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”
William still seemed puzzled.
“Oh, come now, Will,” Nick said. “Surely you’ve noticed there hasn’t been a single break in our wedded bliss?”
“Well, yes, but…”
Nick shot a knowing look at his wife. “My astute footman has clearly lost track of time since we were wed.”
“I cannot blame him, my lord.” Juliet put down her book. “We have been rather…busy.”
“It is fully six weeks since the wedding,” Nick announced. “I think we can safely assume that our dear Juliet is with child.”
William came perilously close to dropping the teapot. “Truly?”
Nick replied with a nod and a broad grin, but Juliet put up a hand. “We should wait a few more weeks to be sure. No need to get excited over what may turn out to be nothing.” She gave William a reassuring smile, although she wasn’t certain it was enough to ward off the fit of apoplexy to which he appeared to be in danger of succumbing. “Help him, Nick!”
“Oh, my word,” Nick exclaimed. Leaping to his feet, he hauled William’s wilting form onto the seat he’d just vacated. “I always thought it was the mother who suffered from fainting spells.”
“I haven’t fainted,” William said, though his voice did sound rather weak. “At least, not yet.”
Dipping a napkin into her tea, Juliet bathed his face, which had gone quite shockingly pale. “You poor dear,” she soothed. “We shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”
“I was under the impression we’d broken it to him gently,” Nick said. “I never knew you had such delicate sensibilities, William.”
“I have never thought about someone I loved giving birth to a baby before. I cannot imagine the pain you must endure.”
It was Juliet’s turn to feel faint, but it had nothing to do with the impending pangs of childbirth. “Do you really love me, Will?”
“More than I can say.”
“Come now,” Nick chided. “That should come as no surprise. He makes love to you constantly.”
She shook her head. “Perhaps, but he’s never said it before.”
“No?” Nick blinked. “Neither have I, come to think of it. No, wait. I distinctly recall promising to love, honor, and cherish you—before God, in fact.”
She smiled up at him. “You did, indeed, my lord. However, you would not be the first man to say those words without truly meaning them.”
“You cannot believe that,” Nick protested. “Can you?”
“Why don’t you tell her?” William whispered. “It’s the sort of thing everyone needs to hear.”
“My dear Juliet,” Nick said. “I adore you—and love you—with at least half of my heart. The other half shall forever belong to William.”
She heaved a sigh. “And you each have half of my heart, as well. I love you both so very, very dearly.”
“Our hearts must soon be divided into thirds,” Will reminded them. “Eventually even fourths or fifths.”
Juliet nodded. “True, but then, loving hearts have no boundaries.”
“And we have three of them,” Nick said, smiling. “I believe we’ll do.”
THE END
CHERYLBROOKSONLINE.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A native of Louisville, Kentucky, Cheryl Brooks has recently retired after thirty-five years of critical-care nursing to become a full-time writer. A lifelong lover of horses and animals in general, she lives with her husband, two sons, two horses, four cats, and two dogs in rural Indiana. She enjoys cooking, gardening, and has played guitar since the age of ten.
Cheryl loves to hear from readers!
Website: http://cherylbrooksonline.com/
E-mail: [email protected]
Blog: http://cherylbrookserotic.blogspot.com/
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