The Temporary Duchess: A Jet City Billionaire Serial Romance (The Billionaire Duke Series Book 3)

by Gina Robinson

  Chapter 10

  Haley

  A week later, Alice gave me a worried look when I came into the kitchen for something to settle my stomach. "You don't look madly keen for your breakfast this morning, ma'am."

  The sight of my full English breakfast and those stewed tomatoes on the plate she held out to me was almost enough to make me toss my cookies. These days I ate only the toast.

  "No. Sorry. I think I have a bug. My stomach's been touchy lately."

  Alice pursed her lips. "You should see the doctor."

  "Hmmmm. Maybe."

  "The chemist, then. See if he has anything for your stomach."

  More like a pregnancy test. I was late. Not very. It could just be that I was in for a rough period. My breasts were sore. They'd never done that before. Anyway, what were the odds I'd be pregnant? Birth-control pills were ninety-nine percent reliable and I'd taken them faithfully. Hadn't missed one. No, that was highly unlikely. What if I had an ovarian cyst or something? Sometimes I could be a bit of a hypochondriac.

  "Maybe I'd better make you some peppermint tea today? It settles the stomach." She looked to me for affirmation.

  "Yes." I nodded. "That sounds wonderful. And how about a dry piece of toast? I can make that myself—"

  "No. Don't trouble yourself. That's my job." She gave me a knowing look.

  "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've only come down here a few times to bake since the duke left. That's not like me at all. I love baking. I wanted to learn the secret to that sticky toffee pudding."

  Alice smiled to herself. "There's plenty of time for that when you're feeling up to it."

  No, it couldn't be what she was thinking.

  But as I left the kitchen after nibbling my toast, I wondered. I really needed a pregnancy test. There was no point in going to the village for one. Everyone would find out and the rumors would fly. I could pull rank and ask one of the maids who came in regularly to buy one for me. But, again, who could I trust? I finally decided to order one online. Just for peace of mind. I didn't need it immediately, anyway. A few days were nothing to wait.

  It turned out I was wrong. Two days was an eternity to wait. When the test finally arrived late in the afternoon a few days later, I grabbed it from Gibson and ran to my rooms, locking the door behind me.

  I actually trembled as I read the directions. This was silliness. I wasn't pregnant. I couldn't be. No one was that fertile. The odds were completely against me. I wasn't even trying.

  Mornings were better for test accuracy. But afternoons were fine if you'd missed your period. And I had. I had extra tests anyway if this one was inconclusive. I was too impatient to wait.

  Riggins would be so furious if I was pregnant. So disappointed. I took a deep breath and headed to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and stuck the stick in the stream. It lit up positive immediately. I wasn't only pregnant. I was definitely, positively pregnant. Bursting with pregnancy hormones.

  I sat on the toilet and put my head between my knees, alternating between joy and terror. If only the Dead Duke were here. He would be thrilled. But Riggins?

  Oh crap. I'd have to tell him. Eventually. But what would he think—that I'd trapped him? That we were going to have not a shotgun wedding but a shotgun marriage?

  I took a deep breath. I had to think. How had this happened? How had our birth control failed so miserably?

  And what if the baby was a girl? If we'd been trying to get pregnant, we would have taken steps to up our odds of having a boy. Even guarantee it.

  My phone rang. I jumped like a guilty kid and pulled it from my pocket, dreading a call from Riggins for the first time ever.

  It was Gibson. "Ma'am, Lady Rose is in the drawing room waiting to see you."

  Yes, Rose. I didn't mind her as much as I thought I would. She was always gushing about us being family. So much so that I had a hard time putting her off. I'd temporarily forgotten she was coming today. Something about a favor she needed. Just what I needed.

  "Yes. Thank you, Gibson. I'll be right down."

  I quickly dried my eyes with the back of my hand and sucked it up.

  Rose was waiting for me, casually looking at the paintings around the room. "Haley." She hugged me. "Just browsing and thinking. I've always loved this place. How are you?" Her expression turned to concern. "You look pale. Have you seen a ghost?"

  I should have applied more blush. I smiled. "Not quite. But spending time with the late duke's things is almost as bad. It's like he's still here."

  Gibson was just finishing setting up tea. "Can I get you anything before I go, ma'am?"

  "We're fine, Gibson. Thank you." I poured Rose and me each a cup and handed her hers, a small sandwich plate, and a pair of tongs.

  "It looks delicious. As always. You're so lucky to have good staff here. The late duke was a perfectionist and a lovable tyrant, I heard. But he knew how to get good, loyal staff and keep them." She looked beautiful, like always.

  I felt a mess. My tangled emotions must have shown on my face. Which made me feel even more insecure as I served myself a small cucumber sandwich. I begged to differ with her. Everything on the tray made my stomach turn. Especially the egg salad and smoked salmon sandwiches. Just a whiff of them made me gag. Something about the smell of eggs…

  I added a plain scone to my plate and sat on the sofa next to Rose, setting my goodies on the coffee table in front of us. "You wanted to see me about something? A favor?"

  I didn't know how long I could last through tea. I wanted to make sure we got to whatever had brought her over. She'd caught me at a bad time, both physically and emotionally.

  She looked pained and almost embarrassed. She sighed prettily. "Yes, a big favor, I'm afraid. I'm not at all chuffed at asking." She bit her lip.

  Why was she acting all coy? Riggins wasn't here, and nor were any of his billionaire friends. There were no white knights ready to dance attendance on her.

  "I may as well come out with it. I need money. Lots of it. A couple million pounds. And I can't go to my boyfriend for it right now. I've already tapped him out. I don't want to scare him off by asking him for more. Or give him any ideas that all I want is his money." Her laugh was brittle. "He's already leery." She took a deep breath. "I'm desperate. My father is on the brink of foreclosure."

  She gave me a look that I was certain was supposed to elicit my sympathy and bring on my guilt. Intimating that if I hadn't won her prize, she wouldn't be in this situation.

  "In the long run, he needs a couple million pounds. In the near term, if he doesn't come up with at least several hundred thousand pounds immediately, he'll lose our ancestral home. It's been in the family hundreds of years. The humiliation of being the earl who lost the estate. And after his father and grandfather weathered the world wars and the heavy tax increases…well, I'm sure you understand."

  Her statement was pointed and to the point. Almost barbed, but desperate at the same time. How could I, an American from the middle class, understand anything like that? And yet after just a little more than a month here, I did. To a degree, at least.

  "You want money?" Of course she wanted money. She'd just said so. I was having trouble concentrating. My stomach turned over. The scent of her perfume, usually subtle and classy, was cloying and nauseating. The room felt too close.

  I took a deep breath. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don't have any money. It's all Riggins'."

  "No inheritance?" She must have been as desperate as she claimed. She was pressing hard.

  I shook my head. "Some is held in trust. If certain conditions are met, I'll get it eventually. The late duke didn't hand out his money readily. If you'd like to ask Riggins…"

  I got a whiff of the egg salad sandwiches and salmon. Bile rose in my throat. I gagged. My stomach lurched. There was no time to run across the castle to the loo, as they called it here. I grabbed the nearest handy receptacle, a tall vase, and retched into it, mortified.

  When I was finished, I felt better. Ro
se was clutching her throat. Her eyes were narrow. She handed me a napkin.

  I took it and wiped my mouth as she studied me closely.

  "You're pregnant," she said at last.

  I shook my head.

  "Don't lie to me. I know a pregnant woman when I see one."

  I looked away and put the napkin over the mouth of the vase. "Please don't mention this…incident…to anyone. It's embarrassing. I apologize. I'm sure you've lost your appetite. We can move across the room."

  She was still staring at me. "Does Riggins know?"

  I changed the subject. "I'm sorry for your financial situation. I know what it is to need money. I can talk to him for you if you like." I tried to smile, even though I felt horrible and shaken.

  She received a text just then. She pulled her phone from her purse, frowned, and texted something back. "I don't have time to wait for him." She gave me an accusing look. "My stupid, optimistic, naïve papa! He left this to the last minute. My stupid siblings are no help. It's up to me. I only have hours."

  "I have about ten thousand pounds I can give you." I could take it out of the household funds.

  "Thank you. But it's not nearly enough. I'll just have to take matters into my own hands."

  Riggins

  I'd been fooling myself, trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with my wife. At night I burned for her. By day I yearned to hear her voice and see her smile. I was a desperate man. Being separated from her made me see that what I felt wasn't a temporary crush. I missed Haley too damn much to stay in denial. Something had to give—my pride.

  I was in love with her. In love with my duchess. A woman the Dead Duke had foisted on me. A wife I hadn't wanted.

  I never pictured myself getting married in the first place. Never wanted a wife. Or children. Or any of that crap.

  Children? The thought made me shudder. I would be such a shitty dad. My douche of an old man had done a number on me. A number I wasn't about to replicate on a future generation. What a legacy. Kids had never been in my plans. Still weren't. The Feldhem line deserved to die out. The estate could be a legacy for the British people, a museum from a bygone era. I'd will it to them. In the meantime, I was going to have a hell of a fun time being the last Duke of Witham with my duchess.

  So what did Haley and I do now? Where did we go from here?

  All I knew was that I had to get back to Witham House before she fell more in love with the place.

  Me, in love? Crazy. Fate must have been having a good laugh at my expense.

  It certainly seemed that absence really did make the heart grow fonder. Or maybe it only drew a big fat circle around what was true love and who was being an idiot for denying it.

  Suddenly, I was desperate to tell Haley. To say the words I love you. A hell of thing to be feeling almost two months after the wedding.

  I realized with a start that I'd never really been in love before. Not like this. Sure, first love. In college. But not filled with want of this depth. With missing her. With needing to be with her and feeling incomplete without her.

  I had no idea what this meant for our future. Or even if she loved me back. Did this mean I wanted our marriage to be real?

  It was too soon to decide that. I just knew I had to tell her how I felt and worry about the rest later.

  Flash would have to do without me for a few days. I needed to show Haley how romantic I could be. I decided to surprise her with a visit. I chartered a private plane and headed for Witham House with my heart pounding and a smile on my face.

  Haley

  I was mortified. Horrified. Humiliated. Exhausted.

  Rose hurried off. Probably to hit someone else up for money. I emptied and rinsed the vase before Gibson or one of the cleaning staff found it. What did I do now? I was going to have to tell Riggins, and soon. In some romantic way? Apologetically?

  The pregnancy test was nearly one hundred percent accurate when it gave a positive result. But maybe having it verified by a doctor would add validity to my claim. Should I see a doctor? How did the British medical system work? Was there an obstetrician in the village?

  I wanted my mom. I always missed her. But now I really missed her. I'd gotten used to playing mom to Sid. Now I needed a mom myself. She'd know what to do. But I was on my own.

  I wanted to go home. I had to go home to Seattle, where I could see my family ob/gyn. Where I knew how things worked and who I could trust. I needed to tell Riggins. In person. As soon as possible.

  All my fears and insecurities flooded in. How would he take it? Would he throw me out of the castle? How would I hide my morning sickness from him until after I'd seen the doctor?

  I wanted to talk to Sid and tell her so badly. But I felt, deep down, that the daddy-to-be deserved to be the very first person to know. No matter how afraid I was of the consequences, Riggins had the right to be the first to hear the news. I hadn't even verified it to Rose.

  I had told Rose the truth on the other score, though. I didn't have any real money of my own. But I had enough pin money to book a first-class flight home. I made a plan. I'd fly home. See my doctor. And surprise Riggins afterward.

  It was already evening, but Seattle was eight hours behind us. My doctor's office back home would be open. I called and made an appointment for Friday morning. If I flew in on Thursday and spent the night at a hotel…

  Yes, I just might be able to pull it off. I grabbed my laptop and booked my flight online. Exhausted, I snuggled into bed with my latest find from the Dead Duke's study, an old Bible that had belonged to his mother. The Bible had been incongruously placed on a shelf of books on farming, business, and estate management. I hadn't noticed it at first. The books hadn't interested me as much as the files. Truthfully, they hadn't interested me at all.

  But Bibles sometimes contained records of birthdates and death dates, that kind of thing. And this one was pretty when you finally noticed it. The fact that it was his mother's might have had some significance, so I had carted it back to my room. Maybe his mother had some wisdom to give me.

  As I leafed through it, it fell open to a page with a yellowed letter tucked inside, still in its original envelope. The return address was from my great-great-aunt, Helen's sister and my great-grandmother, to Rans. It was postmarked the year I was born.

  His name and address were written in spidery, old-lady handwriting on the envelope, as if it had taken a lot of effort to compose. From the condition of the envelope, it appeared the letter was as well read and loved as his copy of Lady Witham's Great Game.

  After Riggins went back to Seattle, I'd had Gibson bring a small TV into the room so I could watch it late at night. I had it on to one of the late night entertainment shows, playing in the background.

  I was filled with excitement as I carefully pulled the letter out of its envelope. "What were you doing hiding in the Bible, darling?" I whispered to it as I unfolded it and began reading.

  I paled. I couldn't believe what it said. "No, this can't be true. It changes everything." I felt sick again.

  You know how no matter how distracted you are or absorbed in something, if you hear your name it brings you right out? The entertainment news host on the TV said my name.

  "Haley, Duchess of Witham, is pregnant, a close friend of the duchess revealed exclusively to Entertainment Britain. It's not official yet, but expect an announcement from the duke and duchess soon.

  "The duchess is already experiencing morning sickness and reportedly retched into a priceless antique vase during a friend's very recent visit…"

  Rose. I was going to kill her. That was why she hurried away this afternoon. No doubt she sold the story. Were the details of my life really worth several hundred thousand pounds? What did I do now?

  Riggins

  The car was waiting for me at the airport. I could hardly wait to see Haley again. I had a dozen roses, and the sexiest, most exclusive lingerie I could find. Too clichéd? What else could I do? What said I love you in just the right romantic way? Sho
uld I have brought jewelry and chocolate, too?

  We pulled up to the front entrance of the castle. My heart pounded. I wasn't a coward, but the thought of rejection left a bitter taste of fear in my mouth. Was I really going to lay my heart on the line and make myself vulnerable to her? Because love sure as hell made me do stupid things. Would I bare my soul, too?

  I imagined myself throwing open the castle door and announcing, Honey! I'm home. But who the hell would hear me?

  She was probably in a room with a moose. I'd have to text her to track her down. I kept imagining the surprised, happy look on her face when she realized I was here. In England. That I loved her.

  Was it too much to hope she loved me, too? Had I misread the signals?

  There was a TV in the car. I hadn't been paying any attention to it. Until I heard Haley's name.

  Haley

  I ran to the bathroom and threw up until my stomach was empty. This time, I didn't feel better at all. I was just as shaken and sick as before. I brushed my teeth and curled up in bed. What was I going to do? Was there any chance Riggins had seen this? Who else had picked it up? What if some reporter asked him for a comment?

  I was just grabbing my cell phone to call him when the door to the bedroom flung open.

  I jumped, hand to heart.

  Riggins stood in the door, his eyes flashing. "Is it true? Are you pregnant?"

  * * *

  Thank You!

  Thanks for reading The Temporary Duchess. I hope you enjoyed it!

  You’ll want to pick up The American Heir the fourth episode and stunning conclusion of the series, now!

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