Feeling better, physically at least, she got out of bed again and rang for her maid. Once she was bathed and dressed in a blue-and-white-spotted muslin that her maid had hoped would lift her spirits, but didn’t, she went downstairs for the day.
She had no more work to do on the house. It was finished, everything new and sparklingly clean. The rooms gleamed with crisp new coats of paint, new rugs, draperies and wall hangings, lamps, fixtures, furniture and more. All the tradesmen she’d hired had done exceptional work, clearing out everything that had been dark and gloomy and replacing it with cheer and sunlight. It was a house that breathed now, a house that was ready to be a home.
The servants were an asset now as well. Bell was an even better butler than she’d hoped, and with the assistance of the new housekeeper, Mrs. Liss, he had the place running like a finely tuned clock.
With nothing domestic to oversee, at least not that morning, she considered painting; she was still trying to finish Gabriel’s portrait. But the smell of the oil paints made her queasy and the subject matter made her sad, so she vetoed that idea, scouring her mind for another option.
Maybe she would do something simple, take a walk in the garden, then sit for a while in the sunshine and read. It was a beautiful day, and no matter how low, and lonely, she might be feeling, the fresh air would do her good.
She called for the dogs to accompany her, since they loved any chance to run, sniff the plants and chase any squirrels that might cross their path. Putting on her bonnet and pelisse, she went outside.
Chapter 29
“Good day, how may I be of service?” asked a sharply dressed man who stood at the front door of Ten Elms.
From his appearance, Gabriel would guess he was the butler, yet he looked far too young for the job. But Gabriel didn’t have time to worry over such things right now. All he wanted was to see Esme.
He met the servant’s gaze. “You can start by letting me inside. I am Northcote.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Lord Northcote? Forgive me for not knowing you immediately. I am Bell. The butler.”
“Ah, so you’re Bell. The one who is good with the animals.”
“Yes, my lord,” the servant replied with a tilt to his mouth. “That would be me.”
Done with the small talk, Gabriel moved inside, thrusting his hat and coat at the other man, who hastily accepted them. For a moment, Gabriel barely recognized the place, it looked so different. So light and airy. So inviting. Not at all like the Ten Elms he had always known.
He turned again to the butler. “Where is my wife? Upstairs?”
“No, my lord, I believe she is out in the garden.”
Gabriel stopped. The garden? What was she doing outside? Then again, invalids often took fresh air in order to convalesce. Not that Esme was an invalid—not yet, anyway.
Scowling heavily, he strode back outside, ignoring Bell’s offer to return his coat. His boots crunched as he made his way to the side of the house and the gardens that had always reminded him of a boneyard in the autumn and winter.
But no more, he saw, as he drew nearer, the garden alive with flowers and greenery, a great deal of it new. The elms, however, were still in place, rising tall and majestic from their place of honor.
Then he saw her, seated on a bench, her head bent over a book. The dogs were nestled at her feet. They leapt up at his arrival and raced toward him, Burr in the lead, tail waving like a banner. He petted their heads and said soft hellos.
When he straightened, Esme was looking at him, her blue eyes wide with surprise and the slightest bit of wariness, as if she wasn’t certain how to react. Her cheeks were flushed with pretty color.
Or was it fever?
If so, she shouldn’t be out of doors.
He strode forward, needing to be near her.
“Gabriel.” She set down her book and smiled. “You’re here.”
“I am,” he said, encouraged by her greeting. “I came as soon as I could. Lawrence told me you’ve been sick.”
Her smile fell away, her shoulders stiffening beneath her pelisse. “Oh, he did, did he? I suppose he told you everything. I knew I should never have confided in him, and I wouldn’t have if I’d known he would go blabbing. Well, if that’s the only reason you’re here, you can go straight away again.”
Reaching for her book, she picked it up and opened it again.
Rather than being deterred, he sank down next to her on the bench. “So, you wanted to hide this from me? Not tell me how sick you are? He said the doctor came by.”
“He did, yes.”
“And what did he say? What treatment has he prescribed?”
“No treatment. Only that I need to rest if I am tired.”
“Well, then let’s get you back inside. The servants shouldn’t have permitted you to sit out here in this cold air and take a chill.”
“It’s May, Gabriel, not January. I am fine right where I am. My pelisse is actually a little too warm.”
“Nonetheless, I don’t want you to tax your strength.” He put a hand under her elbow to coax her to her feet, but she resisted.
She tilted her head and gave him a probing look. “So, you came because you think I’m ill? No other reason?”
“What other reason do I need? You’re my wife and I love you. I came as quickly as I could, fearing you might worsen and I’d be too late.”
“Oh, Gabriel.” Flinging her book aside, she put her arms around him. “I’m not sick, not the way you fear.”
“Are you certain?” He searched her face.
“Very sure. I’m sorry you’ve been so worried. I shall chastise Lawrence when next I write.”
He pulled her closer. “You ought to have told me yourself. You ought not to have thought you couldn’t share this with me. Esme, I’m sorry for everything. For my stupid jealousy and my idiotic pride. I should never have let you go. I wanted to stop you the day you left London, but I held back. I was an idiot, exactly like you said. It’s been absolute hell without you.”
“It’s been hell for me too,” she murmured, her eyes shining. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Relief and hope spread through his chest. “So do you think you can forgive me? I can’t promise I’ll never be jealous again, but I’ll try. I’ll give it everything I have not to let my temper and my insecurities get the better of me. Because I do trust you. I love you. And whatever this secret of yours is, you can tell when you’re ready, or never at all. It’s your decision. Just say you’ll take me back. Just tell me we’ll never be apart again.”
She laughed and pressed closer. “Of course I’ll take you back. And I never want to be apart again either. I love you, Gabriel. You’re my first, my last, my only.”
He kissed her, taking her lips with a sweet force that filled his body with pleasure and his heart with joy. And he did feel joy and relief, such as he had never known. He’d thought trusting her with his love would be a weakness, but now he knew it would only give him strength.
Her fingers tunneled into his hair and she kissed him with a heady ardor that made the world fade away. She was his world, and from this moment forward, he would want no other.
• • •
Esme was floating, part of her wondering if this was real or a dream. But if it was a dream, then she never wanted to wake up again. Gabriel had said such beautiful, wonderful things, and he meant them. He loved her. He trusted her. Now it was time to trust him too, because she didn’t like keeping secrets. From now on, she would keep nothing from him, most especially the one thing she longed to share with him the most.
But instead of drawing away, she kissed him back, fervently, endlessly, her toes curling with giddy pleasure until she lost all sense of time and place. Toasty warm from passion and the heat of his body pressed to hers, she barely felt the sudden sharp breeze that gusted over them.
But he
must have as he eased back, ending their kiss. “We should go inside.”
“Yes.” She nodded dazedly. “Let’s go in. Let’s go to bed.”
He arched a brow. “Bed is where you belong, but we’ll wait to make love again. I want to make certain you’re well first.”
“Gabriel, about that. It’s not what you think.”
“It’s not? You have been sick, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts; we need to get you well.”
“I am well, or at least as well as any woman in my condition.”
“Your condition?” He studied her for a long moment, sudden speculation warming his eyes. “Esme, this doesn’t have anything to do with your secret, does it?”
She nodded, a little smile curving her lips. “Yes. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn’t know for certain then, and I wanted it to be a happy occasion when I shared the news, not when we were in the middle of a horrible fight. That’s why I wouldn’t tell you, even though I’ve been dying to for ages now.”
Emotions chased over his face, little pieces appearing to fit together as he puzzled out her jumble of words. “Esme, are you . . . are you with child?”
She nodded again. “Yes.”
He looked stunned.
“Well? What do you think?” she asked with sudden nervousness.
He looked at her for a few seconds more, then stood up and pulled her into his arms. Holding her high against him, he swung her in a slow circle and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her some more.
When he finally let her come up for air and set her on her feet, she blinked dizzily up at him, watching as he laughed with a carefree happiness she’d never seen before.
“So, you’re pleased?” she said, glad his arms were still secure around her.
“Pleased? Oh, sweetheart, I’m ecstatic. Over the moon. Thrilled. There aren’t enough superlatives to describe how I feel.”
She laughed, warmth blossoming inside her. She hadn’t known she could be any happier, but now she was.
“So that’s what you’ve been keeping from me?” he said with good-natured accusation. “That’s what you told your damned brother before you told me?”
She gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, only because I went over to his town house after our fight and it all came tumbling out. I didn’t mean to tell him. I’ve been feeling guilty about it ever since. Forgive me, Gabriel.”
“Of course. I would forgive you anything.” He pressed his mouth to hers again. “I love you, Esme.”
“I love you too.”
He laid a hand over her stomach. “So this is why you’ve been ill?”
She nodded. “Morning sickness. Not the most pleasant way to begin the day, but it usually gets better and I feel wonderful by evening.”
“Damned Lawrence. Remind me to murder him when I see him again. He ought to have told me that you’re increasing, not make me think you’re at death’s door.”
“I made him swear not to tell you, or anyone else, so he was only honoring my request. But I’m sorry he had you so worried.” She rested a palm against his chest, over the place where his heart beat, sure and strong. “Then again, if not for him, we probably wouldn’t be standing here together now.”
Gabriel took a moment to consider, his features softening. “That’s true. I suppose when you look at it that way, I should be grateful. Maybe I’ll just beat him up a little instead of actually killing him.”
She laughed, knowing he was teasing. At least she hoped he was teasing.
Then he grinned at her, his old naughty grin that never failed to send delicious shivers down her spine. “Lawrence did remind me of something else.”
“Oh? What is that?” she asked.
Gabriel tucked her closer against him. “That today is your birthday.”
“You’re right. It is.”
He pressed his lips to hers. “Happy birthday, my love. Though in my rush to arrive, I didn’t have time to get you a present, but I’ll buy you anything your heart desires. Just tell me what it is you want.”
She smiled, her whole body aglow with happiness and love. Tenderly, she kissed him again. “Nothing. I already have everything I want, right here in my arms and here inside me.” She took his hand and placed it against her stomach, where their child grew.
Smiling, he leaned his forehead to hers, then found her mouth once again, adoration and love in his every touch.
“Now,” she said a few breathless minutes later, “take me inside where it’s warm, so you can have your wicked way with me again.”
He threw back his head and laughed, then fit her close against his side as he turned them toward the house. “My darling Esme, it will be my pleasure.”
Epilogue
Ten Elms
Derbyshire, England
July 1819
Esme rapped quickly on the door to Gabriel’s study and went inside without bothering to wait for an answer.
Gabriel was seated behind an imposing mahogany desk, the windows on both sides of the elegant, but thoroughly masculine, room flung open to let in what amounted to no more than a minuscule breeze; the summer day was a hot one. He’d stripped off his coat, leaving him in shirtsleeves and waistcoat.
At her entrance, Gabriel looked up from the papers he was reading and smiled when he saw her. Across from him was Mr. Hay, the steward for Ten Elms, whom Esme only then noticed.
Mr. Hay rose from his chair and bowed to her, his brown hair curling more than usual, no doubt due to the humidity. Everyone in the neighborhood was eager for a storm to break and cool things off, even if only temporarily.
“Oh, forgive the interruption, gentlemen; I didn’t realize you were meeting. I thought his lordship was alone. I will leave and come back later.”
“Nonsense, my dear,” Gabriel said as he laid down the page in his hand. “Hay and I were nearly finished, weren’t we, Hay?”
The steward looked as if that was news to him, but he nodded. “Yes, just so, my lord. We can continue whenever you prefer. I told Mr. Bracken that I would ride over to his farm today and inspect his fruit trees. Something to do with a new pear he is developing.”
Gabriel stood as well. “If his pears are as good as the cherries we had from his orchard, then tell him I look forward to his efforts.”
“As do I,” Esme said. “Give Mrs. Bracken my best as well, will you? And thank her again for the skin salve. It has worked wonders.”
Hay nodded. “It will be my pleasure, my lady.” Then with another bow, he was gone, taking care to quietly close the door behind him.
“What is this about skin salve?” Gabriel asked. “I know you’ve become a favorite among the tenants and they’re always giving you gifts, but I didn’t realize you’ve taken to accepting medicaments from them in return.”
“I haven’t, not really,” Esme said, moving deeper into the room. “But when Mrs. Bracken learned that I’m increasing, she insisted I take a jar of her homemade cream. She tells me all four of her daughters have used it during their pregnancies and not one of them has a single skin mark.”
“Is that so?” Coming close, he took her hand and led her back to his desk, where he resumed his seat, then drew her down onto his lap. He laid a hand over the ripe curve of her belly, which was quite clearly beginning to show beneath the airy willow green muslin of her gown. He loved touching her burgeoning stomach, especially when they lay in bed together. His newest favorite pastime was pressing his hand to her stomach and waiting to feel the baby kick. That and enjoying the increase in her breast size, a physical change of which he was extremely admiring.
“You’re certain this salve is safe?” he asked.
“Quite sure. I asked her for the ingredients, and it’s mostly olive oil and flower essences with a touch of something secret that she assured me was quite harmless,
but highly efficacious.”
“Probably pig tallow.”
Esme’s mouth rounded in horror. “Oh, good heavens, I hope not.”
He laughed and hugged her closer. “I’m teasing you. Everyone for twenty miles around knows you adore animals and that you don’t eat meat. I am sure Mrs. Bracken wouldn’t give you anything that might offend, especially after you nursed her favorite little dog back to health last month.”
Esme frowned, hoping he really was teasing about the pig tallow. But then she brushed off her concerns, remembering how kindly Mrs. Bracken always was and what care she took never to serve anything with meat when Esme stopped by on one of her visits to the estate farms and leaseholders’ cottages.
“So?” Gabriel said, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Why are you here? Or did you just miss me and couldn’t bear to stay away?”
She smiled and kissed him back. “Of course I missed you, even if it’s only been two hours since we last saw one another for nuncheon. But that is not why I’m here.”
“Why, then?” He frowned suddenly, his fingers splaying wider against her stomach. “Nothing is amiss, is it? You’re not feeling ill?”
“Of course not. I feel wonderful these days, now that my morning sickness has passed.” She smiled gently and laid her hand over Gabriel’s far larger one. “The doctor says everything is progressing exactly as it ought. Come late November, your son will be here.”
“Or my daughter. Don’t be so certain it’s a boy.”
Esme plucked at her skirt. “You won’t mind if the baby is a girl?”
“Not at all. I’m with your brother Jack. I would be entirely content with a whole houseful of girls.”
“But you need an heir.”
He shook his head. “My uncle or cousins would be thrilled to inherit, so no, I don’t actually require an heir. I just want a healthy child, whatever the sex.”
“Well, in that case, we’re definitely having a boy. Your uncle is not getting his hands on this house again. Especially not after all the work I’ve put into it.”
Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square Page 32
