by Heather Boyd
He kept a close watch over his son as he always did, noting how happy he appeared with his rough-and-tumble friends. Kit glanced across the blanket to where his wife sat, jiggling someone’s baby on her lap and crooning to the squirming infant. Her health had improved considerably since leaving London, and he no longer worried for her quite so much. “Is he going too far away do you think?”
Miranda squinted across the field at their son. “You worry too much. He will go far enough to tire them so they sleep well tonight during the ball.”
Kit grunted. They’d planned the ball together to celebrate Chris’s birthday most of all, and also for their own enjoyment. They’d spent weeks planning it together, and he was pleased that despite the occasional silly argument, Miranda seemed at last happy to be his wife and partner in all things. He checked Chris’s location again.
So far, their son seemed to be enjoying himself with his friends, though Kit was never certain he did enough to make up for their lost years. “Should he stay up with us tonight beyond eight do you think?”
Miranda cooed at the child she held once more and then passed him back to his doting mother. “Eight will be late enough. He’s not too interested in dancing yet. The children will have their own amusements for the final hours before bed.”
Kit frowned as Miranda picked up a piece of cheese, popped it in her mouth, and then licked her fingers clean. He’d never seen her so hungry. “Should one of us stay with him?”
Miranda shook her head and smiled at him as if she was in danger of laughing outright. She patted his hand. “He will be fine without you for a little while, my love. Children don’t always want us around. They like to have their own time too. It gives them a chance to have their own secrets as we have ours.”
She reached out for a slice of cucumber and took a bite, savoring the taste.
“I suppose you are correct.” Kit turned back to watch his son. Truly he couldn’t get enough of watching him run about their home and was considering making yet another adjustment to his education schedule. The boy didn’t really need to be gone all but a few weeks a year in order to learn Latin properly. Maybe he could stay away from school another year altogether. He turned to Miranda to suggest it but found her eating again.
He glanced down without speaking but kept a close eye on her behavior. She really was hungry today, and when he considered it, she had seemed to be that way all week. The three closest plates to where she sat were empty, so she had to stretch for a piece of cake. Her second helping if he was not mistaken.
Suddenly he recalled that there had been a time when Miranda had seemed to have a larger appetite than normal. His mother had actually pulled him aside and complained of it before they’d married. It was that discussion that had made him so hopeful that Miranda could be pregnant.
His face ached with the urge to shout out his suspicions to all around him.
Since he’d missed the pregnancy and Chris’s birth, Kit had begun to listen discreetly whenever a woman discussed the rigors of motherhood to find out what he might have missed. Some claimed their appetites increased, some went away entirely, and others were dreadfully sick morning, noon, and night. There seemed no pattern to a pregnancy that he could see, other than steady behaviors changed.
As Miranda’s seemed to have done. She followed up the cake with a slice of pork and he gasped. If she could eat a food she’d thoroughly detested not one month ago, then something had definitely changed with her.
Yet when it came to Miranda, he’d learned never to assume anything without at least talking about his theories first. He shifted closer to his wife. “Miranda, darling, how are you feeling today?”
She smiled at him fondly, the little creases around her eyes crinkling with warmth and love and desire. “I am well, as you see.”
Her gaze returned to the picnic spread before them and he caught her hand gently before she could snag another bite. He brought her to her feet with a laugh. “Walk with me for a moment?”
She nodded and they strolled away from the guests. Kit slipped his arm around her back and she leaned against him with a sigh. “The party is going well. Your mother is even behaving herself and seems happy to leave me to manage things at last.”
“That’s good to know. I spoke to Acton this morning as Chris and I rode the boundary. He’s sent his sister to live in a house he owns in Bath so we don’t have to worry about seeing her even by chance. I did as you asked too and made sure he knew he was invited for dinner tomorrow night as well as tonight’s ball. He’s graciously accepted both. I wasn’t sure he’d want to come.”
“I am glad. He seems keen to make amends if the birthday gift he sent Christopher is any indication.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe he sent a horse.”
“Acton never does anything halfway. The animal is well trained for an inexperienced rider to manage. I think he wanted to prove to you that he remains our friend despite his sister’s lies. I didn’t have the heart not to accept. Chris seemed so very keen on the animal.” He stopped beneath a shady tree and caught both her hands in his. As he looked down into her face, all the love he’d known in his life built and built. “Do you remember before we married that I suspected you were carrying our child?”
Her gaze narrowed but then she smiled at the memory. “I remember you were so certain about everything. You were proved right in the end, weren’t you?”
“I’m not worried about who was right or not, now.” He tightened his grip on her hands. “We have been intimate more times than I can count, and you have not turned me away from your bed since your return.”
She blinked slowly, then her eyes widened a touch. “I haven’t needed to, have I?”
“No. Miranda, I wonder if we are having another babe.”
She took a step backward and Kit followed, irrational panic filling him that she might run away at the very idea. Yet the only sound she made was soft and unformed. She shook her head. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
He’d discreetly queried her doctor about the risks of a pregnancy some months ago and had been assured that there was no way to tell how her heart would bear the strain. He’d been advised to keep her calm and rested and content. He would always do his best to make that happen, but a second child would be a blessing and he couldn’t help but be hopeful. He grinned. “You just ate pork and licked your fingers afterward.”
Her brow creased. “But it turns my stomach. I haven’t been able to eat it since before Christopher was born.”
“Perhaps it is a sign.”
She looked up at him and then a choked laugh left her. “Oh dear, that does explain how sentimental I’ve been feeling. They say women do any number of irrational things when they are with child. I cried a great deal last time, but I thought it over losing you.”
“Just don’t leave me again.” He drew her into his arms and gently brushed his fingers over her belly. “Our child could be here and I don’t want to miss a moment.”
She covered his hand with hers and held it in place on her stomach, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Do not get ahead of yourself. We will wait and see what the physician has to say.”
Kit pulled her against him and held her tightly. “I cannot wait. I want another child with you. One I can hold in my arms the moment they take their first breath. I want sleepless nights and mornings of laugher like we have now with Chris. I want it all and so many times over.”
She laughed. “Wait till the babe wakes you just as you fall asleep for the third morning in a row.”
“I won’t mind. Well, maybe not at first, I suppose, but I will get used to the necessary changes quickly.” He glanced down at her, wicked thoughts filling him. “I love you so much I’ve not words to say how happy you make me. So until then, I think you should prepare yourself to be so coddled and so loved that you become in danger of growing sick of me.”
“I would not, could not, ever be that. Besides, I am already so coddled and loved that I fear you will grow tir
ed of me.” She winced. “I do not have the best temper when my girth is as round as a barrel and I cannot get out of a chair without assistance.”
Since no one could see them from this distance, he slipped his hand along her body and cupped her breast. “Come inside and I’ll play at being your physician. I know my way around a lady in need of reassurance that she could never be more desirable than she is now or even when as round as a barrel as you put it.”
“Any excuse to lure me back to bed.” She laughed softly with no ill feeling. “What about our guests? They will wonder where we’ve gone.”
He groaned as her hip brushed against his groin as she looked behind them to their scattered guests, teasing his cock with the lightest of touches.
“They can entertain themselves for a few minutes,” he assured her.
“A few minutes?” She laughed, full of warmth and wicked excitement at the idea of a short romp, which had never been their way.
“You’re absolutely right. What was I thinking?” Plans enough formed to fill quite a bit more time than minutes. “I’ll need at least an hour for a proper examination, maybe two. No sense in rushing love, is there?”
She smiled so brightly his heart skipped a beat as hers sometimes still did.
“No my darling,” Miranda whispered as she looped her arms around his neck. “You simply cannot hurry love. Not when it’s a love like ours.”
THE END
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading Keepsake, Book 5 in the Distinguished Rogues Series. I hope you enjoyed the story enough to consider posting a review—either positive or negative—somewhere on the web. Your opinion is important and balanced reviews help other readers find a book that’s right for them.
Cheers!
Heather
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bestselling historical author Heather Boyd believes every character she creates deserves their own happily-ever-after, no matter how much trouble she puts them through. With that goal in mind, she weaves sizzling English set love stories that push the boundaries of regency era propriety to keep readers enthralled until the wee hours of the morning. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she could type as fast as she conjures new storylines. While writing full time north of Sydney, Australia, Heather collects dust bunnies in all corners of the house and does her best to wrangle her testosterone-fuelled family into submission.
For more information and to sign up for Heather’s mailing list to hear of upcoming book releases visit
www.heather-boyd.com
ALSO BY HEATHER BOYD
The Distinguished Rogues Series:
Chills
Broken
Charity
An Accidental Affair
The Wild Randalls Series:
Engaging the Enemy
Forsaking the Prize
Guarding the Spoils
Hunting the Hero
Miss Mayhem Series:
Miss Watson’s First Scandal
Miss George’s Second Chance
The Hunt Club Series:
Almost an Equal
Barely a Master
Hardly a Stranger
Just a Dream
Novella/Short stories:
One Wicked Night
Wicked Mourning
In the Widow’s Bed
Love Me Tender
Love Me True
The Almack’s Alternative
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Heather Boyd
