“They’re all ugly until the second or third day,” Gregory chimed in, moving to take the bundle from Andrew. “I’ve got him. You go see your wife.”
Nodding, Andrew took one last look at his new son before managing a bow in Adele’s direction. He took his leave of the study and took the stairs two at a time as he rushed to Jane’s bedchamber at the end of the west hall.
“Is she all right?” he managed to get out as he burst into the apartment.
Mrs. Emma Wellingham regarded him from the threshold to Jane’s bedchamber as she dried her hands on a bath linen. She managed a curtsy and a quick glance at her patient before turning back to him. “She’s fine, Mr. Burroughs,” she whispered. “Still sleeping, in fact. I take it you’ve met your son? He has quite a pair of lungs on him, and he’s a good six pounds.”
Andrew struggled to catch his breath. “I … I have. He does? Is?” He stopped to realize he hadn’t even thought of how heavy the babe was. Hadn’t even been that concerned about the boy, in fact. His only worry had been about Jane. “Thank you,” he added as he took another breath. He stepped forward before stopping again, as if he were torn about hurrying in to see his wife or continuing his conversation with the midwife. “I have to admit, I was a bit concerned when my cousin said you were the midwife,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Oh?” Emma responded, her hands dropping to her sides, the damp linen clutched in one of them. Rather tall already, the woman seemed to add another two inches to her height as she straightened, as if she were expecting to have to do battle with the man.
He held up a staying hand. “You were my inspiration for choosing to go into trade, you see, as a clerk at the bank. Imagine my shock to learn … you had other skills, as well.”
Emma’s eyes widened, and then she relaxed and allowed a wan smile. Although she had met the man when he had come to Woodscastle for dinner—back before he married Jane Vandermeer Fitzpatrick—most of the evening’s conversation had to do with the renovations on Merriweather Manor. Woodscastle, the home she and her husband shared with Gregory and Christina Grandby, wasn’t far from the manor and had undergone similar renovations when Gregory married her husband’s sister. “I fear I proved quite vexing to your uncle,” Emma commented quietly. “He was determined to play matchmaker. Succeeded finally, although I often wonder if he was disappointed in my choice of husband.”
The banker frowned. “He was not, I assure you,” Andrew said suddenly, his head shaking from side to side.
Emma allowed a grin, deciding Sir William couldn’t have been all that disappointed. Thomas Wellingham had built his father’s business into a profitable enterprise. “And while I don’t deliver babies as a matter of course, I’ve attended to my sister-in-law. She has given birth to ten of them over the years.”
Andrew nodded. “Still, it’s rather fortuitous you were available. And so close. I know I must have seemed rather panicked when you arrived, and it’s only because … I was,” he admitted sheepishly as one thumb scratched his eyebrow. “We were in the middle of eating dinner. Thank the gods Grandby’s wife knew of you. She just happened to be here with the earl.” He paused a moment to take another breath. “I apologize for my curt behavior earlier. It’s not as if I haven’t been through this before—I have three older children—and yet …”
Emma had to suppress the urge to giggle at the memory of Andrew Burroughs as he grabbed her hand in the vestibule and nearly carried her up the curved staircase and down the long hallway to his apartment. She lifted her free hand to cover her mouth. “And yet, it never seems to get easier, does it?”
The man sighed. “No, it does not,” he agreed. “I take it you must have learned midwifery from someone a long time ago.”
Emma nodded. “I did my charity work at Mrs. Dawes’ Home for Unwed Mothers whilst I was a student at Warwick’s,” she replied. Having attended the finishing school carried far more clout now than it did back in the days she was a student there. Although she never cared for the classes—or rather, the cost of the tuition to attend the boarding school—she had shared a room with Christina Wellingham and probably would never have met her husband if she hadn’t.
“Ah! My daughter, Sophia, is there now,” Andrew claimed, his face brightening.
Emma allowed a larger grin and dared a glance back into the bedchamber. When she returned her attention to the banker, she gave him a nod. “Mrs. Burroughs is awake if you’d like to see her now.”
The words weren’t even finished being spoken before Andrew was making his way into Jane’s bedchamber and to her side.
“Were you surprised?” he murmured as he lifted a hip onto the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss Jane on her forehead. He took one of her hands in his and kissed the back of it.
“That we have a boy?” she whispered. Her blonde curls were damp around her face, but otherwise she looked as if she had just awakened for the day.
“That you were pregnant with my child,” he countered in a teasing tone. “I distinctly remember telling you about nine months ago that you couldn’t be surprised if you found yourself about to deliver a baby nine months from then.”
Jane attempted to sit up a bit but collapsed back onto the pillows behind her. “Yes, you did,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “Now, pray tell, what have you done with him?”
Andrew’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, my. I left him in the study with Gregory and Grandby!” he said in alarm. “Knowing them, he’ll have already downed his first scotch and smoked his first cheroot!”
Although she might have found his words amusing, Jane’s attention was on Andrew’s cousin, Gregory. The older man stood on the threshold with a bundle resting against his shoulder, its bottom held up with one large hand, looking as if he had done the very same hundreds of times in the past.
As the father of ten, he probably had, she realized.
“I assure you, my lady, neither event has occurred,” the older Grandby cousin stated, but he couldn’t help but display a huge grin at Andrew’s claim. “Yet.”
He moved into the room when Jane waved him in, her arms held out so she could take the baby. “Congratulations. You have a Burroughs boy. He’ll be tall. He’ll be loud. And he’ll be handsome,” he announced as he gave up his hold on the babe. “Almost makes me want another.”
“Thank you,” Jane murmured, her attention on the baby. “I’m so sorry about interrupting dinner as I did. Such a shock, to be eating and then …” She allowed the sentence to trail off, remembering how comical it must have been for her guests when Andrew insisted on carrying her up to her room.
“No need to apologize,” Gregory replied. “But I should find my wife and be heading home. Thomas will wonder what’s become of Emma. Good night, and thank you for dinner.” He gave a bow before moving to shake hands with Andrew.
“Let Grandby know I’ll be down to see them off,” Andrew murmured.
“No need,” Gregory said with a quick shake of his head. “They took their leave a few minutes ago. We all ate the dessert course in the study, and Adele was anxious to get home to her own babies. You’ve got her thinking of having another, by the way,” he added before he gave a short bow and took his leave of Merriweather Manor.
Andrew turned to gaze at his wife. “See what we’ve done, my lady?” he murmured.
Jane grinned. “Indeed. In more ways than one.” She glanced down at the bundle in her arms. “And better late than never.”
Read on for an excerpt from
Linda Rae Sande’s
next book
The Pride of a Gentleman
1803, Woodscastle in Chiswick
“A post arrived for you, Mr. Grandby,” Frederick said as he recovered his composure and held out the envelope for the tall man.
“Another one?” Gregory replied as he took the envelope and studied the writing and then the red wax seal on the back. “Thank you, Frederick,” he added as he headed off to the west wing stairs. He opened the missive
while he climbed the stairs and was ready to read the enclosed letter when a workman intercepted him at the top of the stairs.
“It should not take much of your time, sir,” the man said in an apologetic tone. “It’s just that when we measure this room and the one next door, there seems to be a rather large space missing.” Gregory’s eyebrows went up a bit as he followed the workman into the room that was meant to be his study. “Here, sir,” the workman said as he pointed at the paneled wall on the south side of the room. Another workman came into the room. “Hey, Henry, there’s definitely a space …” He stopped in mid-step when he saw Gregory. “Oh, excuse me, sir,” he said as he gave a short bow.
“Quite all right,” Gregory replied absently, studying the paneling. He walked up to the wall and allowed his eye to follow the pattern of the moldings until he found a place where the wall wasn’t quite connected. Pushing against the panel near the vertical crack didn’t result in any movement, but when he moved his hand across the wall about three feet to the left where another vertical moulding was located, the wall pushed inwards several inches.
“A secret door!” one of the workman exclaimed as he moved closer to the south wall. “A passageway do you suppose?” he wondered aloud.
Gregory glanced around the room. “Can you get me a torch?” he asked as he pushed open the door, its unused hinges creaking in protest. One of the workman grabbed a kerosene lamp from near the room’s entrance and lit it. Holding it in front of himself, he offered it to Gregory. The taller man took it, his attention on the space behind the secret door. “This is most curious,” he said as he walked into the void. Directly across from him was evidence of a matching door from the adjacent room, and to the left, a set of stairs led down into inky black darkness. No water damage was evident, although the light from the lamp barely reached the unadorned ceiling. “Henry, can you see if you can find a similar door in the next room?” he asked as he contemplated where the stairs might lead.
“Right away, sir,” the workman replied before he hurried out of the room. Despite the muffled pounding from above, Gregory could hear the man’s footfalls in the hallway and then through the wall. After a few seconds, the door from the other side opened and Henry stood staring at Gregory, a delighted look on his face.
“These doors are well hidden in the paneling, sir,” Henry remarked with a nod.
“Indeed,” Gregory replied as he directed the lamp’s glow to the stairs. “Well, nothing ventured,” he commented before starting down the stairs, careful to check to be sure each one would hold his weight before stepping onto the next. There were seven steps before a wall and a landing forced him to turn around. He slowly descended the next set of seven steps and again reached a wall and a landing. At the bottom of the last set of stairs, Gregory faced a door at the end of a short hallway. Listening, he tried to determine what might be on the other side and was amused when he heard the curses of Mr. Tanner, the cook, as he prepared the midday meal. This door at least had a knob; Gregory gingerly turned it and, noticing the large hinges on his side of the door, he pulled open the door to find the cook staring at him in fright.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Tanner,” Gregory said with a satisfied grin as he realized he couldn’t actually walk into the kitchen. A large, wood table blocked the doorway. Located in the middle of the west wall of the kitchen, the door was quite evident as it included trim moulding and a knob.
“Where …?” the cook started to ask before he leaned around Gregory to stare at the open door. “Where did you come from?” he asked as his bushy eyebrows did a bit of a dance.
“The study,” Gregory replied with a nod. “Seems the original owner of this house wanted quick access to a midnight snack,” he added with a grin. “Capital idea, wouldn’t you say?”
Mr. Tanner screwed up his face. “I suppose so, sir. Does this mean I’ll have to move my table?” the cook wondered, his tone of voice suggesting disappointment.
Chuckling, Gregory said, “Not yet. In a few months, perhaps.” He still held the letter and took the opportunity to study the handwriting. Sir William, he realized as he tore open the seal and read the letter by the brighter light of the kitchen.
To my dear nephew, Gregory Grandby, I hope this letter finds you and your bride in good health. I fear I must ask that you delay your departure to Rome on the occasion of a matter of Utmost Importance regarding a business matter to which you must attend with great speed and authority. The nature of this matter is too important to express in this letter. I ask that you come to the Bank at your earliest convenience. Yours truly, Sir William Burroughs.
Frowning as he read the letter, Gregory wondered which of his investments could require such immediate attention.
Regency Romances by Linda Rae Sande
The Daughters of the Aristocracy
The Kiss of a Viscount
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BXGUOU6
The Grace of a Duke
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CGFSN8S
The Seduction of an Earl
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CNJW9I2
The Sons of the Aristocracy
Tuesday Nights
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DDCCJWY
The Widowed Countess
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DUGTZ8Y
My Fair Groom
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GSKVZ32
The Sisters of the Aristocracy
The Story of a Baron
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KNJFQ4I
The Passion of a Marquess
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RUQEKGW
The Desire of a Lady
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00U575VAC
The Brothers of the Aristocracy
The Love of a Rake
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B014SHV37E
The Caress of a Commander
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B018VCRK2Y
The Epiphany of an Explorer
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01G0VEC38
The Widows of the Aristocracy
The Gossip of an Earl
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LS9GX3Y
The Cousins of the Aristocracy
The Promise of a Gentleman
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OI1FUGG
About the Author
A self-described nerd and lover of science, Linda Rae spent many years as a published technical writer specializing in 3D graphics workstations, software and 3D animation (her movie credits include SHREK and SHREK 2). An interest in genealogy led to years of research on the Regency era and a desire to write fiction based in that time.
A fan of action-adventure movies, she can frequently be found at the local cinema. Although she no longer has any fish, she does follow the San Jose Sharks. She makes her home in Cody, Wyoming. See more information about her books on her website: www.lindaraesande.com.
The Gossip of an Earl (The Widows of the Aristocracy Book 1) Page 29
