Lords, Ladies and Babies: A Regency Romance Set with Little Consequences

by Meara Platt

  “The breeze is a delight,” Mary had answered. “And your garden, Lord Sinclair, is stunning. What a beautiful place.”

  Anne had clapped her hands. “Last year it was overgrown but this year we were able to hire a gardener again.”

  Mary didn’t answer as she studied Sin. His mouth tightened as he too remained silent. She knew he’d taken over the Gaming Hell from Darlington and the others and clearly he needed the funds if he was hiring staff he hadn’t previously been able to afford. Finally, she cleared her throat. “I’m so glad the gardener was able to do such a lovely job.”

  “Wait a moment.” Anne jumped up. “There are some snapdragons I want to show you. They’re my favorite flower the gardener planted this year. Maybe we’ll draw those.” Then the girl was off, disappearing down a path.

  Mary glanced over at Sin to find his head bent low as he stared at his hands. “This picnic has been lovely. I’m glad to use the garden. I have to confess we haven’t been out here much.”

  Mary scooted a bit closer. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Anne certainly has and she’s learning a great deal.”

  “I noticed,” he answered. “And you’re learning a great deal about us too.”

  Mary shook her head though he wasn’t looking at her.

  “My father didn’t leave me with the flushest Earldom,” he said still looking down. “I was struggling from the moment I took over. And after my wife passed three years ago…” His mouth turned down, as tight lines of pain marked his face.

  She didn’t think. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his arm. “No need to explain to me. I’ve lived off my aunt and uncle for the past five years. I envy you the opportunity to change your situation. I only wish that I could do the same for myself.”

  He placed a hand over hers and a tingling of energy spread up her arm. She looked down at the intimate gesture but then his words pulled her gaze back up. “Why don’t you marry? Won’t your aunt and uncle sponsor you?”

  She dropped her chin to her chest. “They already financed one season. I won’t be any more of a burden to them then I’ve already been.”

  “Burden?” he asked, his fingers squeezing hers. “It’s your uncle’s duty to care for you.”

  She looked at him then, his deep brown eyes drawing her in. “I suppose. I feel better, inside, when I am useful. I much prefer teaching Anne then batting my eyelashes at balls.”

  He stared at her for a moment longer before he leaned closer, his breath tickling her cheeks. And then, slowly, softly, he placed his lips on top of hers. She’d kissed before. But not like this. This light touch stole the air from her lungs and sent shivers of pleasure straight to her core.

  Dear lord, she was in very deep trouble.

  Sin had just made a terrible mistake. Mary’s lush lips under his felt better than anything he’d ever experienced before. So supple and yielding, they pressed to his with a passion that belied the gentle touch.

  His body responded with a roaring need. He wanted more.

  Which was a mistake. He shouldn’t have even kissed her. She was a tutor, his employee, and all wrong for him.

  He pulled away, listening to his head even as his body protested. “Miss Chase,” he growled out, his voice hoarse and deep. “My apologies. I should not have—”

  Her eyes widened and her head snapped back. “Your apologies?” Then she pursed her lips. “There’s no need.” But she pulled her hand from his arm and used it to push herself to stand. “I’ll find Anne.”

  Regret tightened his chest. He shouldn’t have kissed her, but just as bad, he should not have expressed regret. “Wait.”

  She stilled, her hands fisting her skirts as though she were about to run.

  “You are a very attractive woman.” He stood too and reached for her hand. Reluctantly, she untangled her fingers from her skirts. He gently took her fingers in his. “But you are also under my employ and I would not want you to think I’d take advantage of that fact.”

  Mary’s shoulders relaxed and her grip softened. “Thank you for the explanation.”

  “Miss Chase,” Anne called. “I brought you a snapdragon in every color. Do you wish to see?”

  “Very much,” she answered, stepping around him to greet Anne. “Oh, they are lovely. Run to the kitchen and fetch a vase. We’ll arrange them.”

  Anne clapped her hands. “Should I bring sheers too?”

  “Yes, please, but hold them by the blade, not by the handles,” she called after his daughter.

  “Yes, Miss Chase,” Anne called over her shoulder darting off again.

  “And no running while you’re holding them.” Mary called as the child disappeared, leaning away from him to be heard by Anne.

  He stared at her with painful awareness. She was beautiful and this first afternoon had been an oasis compared with the past several months. Did that mean she could do the job after all? And how would he cope with her living here full time? “You’re going to teach her to arrange flowers?”

  “I am,” Mary answered, pulling her hand from his once again.

  “And her fear? Is this also part of addressing that?”

  Mary turned to look at him. “I first need to see what makes her afraid. Then we shall know if we can fix it.” She quirked a brow at him. “So far I haven’t seen anything.”

  He straightened, looking down at her. It was ridiculous but he had the urge to ask her if she thought she could fix him too. But of course, she couldn’t. Instead, he murmured a ridiculously personal question. “She does all right most days. Better with you here. It’s night that she struggles with.”

  She let out a long breath. “Night is difficult, isn’t it? We all have fears that come out then.”

  “What makes you afraid?”

  “My brother died as a baby. My parents in a carriage accident. My fiancé at war.” She swallowed, her face tightening in pain. “I am afraid of wasting my time on this earth.”

  He drew in a deep breath. Her comments about working and being useful coming into focus. “Would you consider marrying to be a waste of time?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. Having a family is the most useful thing in the world. But I can’t spend years flirting in society. I won’t. If that means that I spend my life helping children like Anne rather than having my own, I’m prepared for that.”

  “Mary,” he whispered so that only she could here. Something inside him was shifting. “Such loss. And here you stand ready to help others.” A great many of his doubts about her were melting away. At least the ones involving her teaching Anne.

  She shook her head. “It’s because of the loss, not in spite of it.” Her mouth pinched. “When I lost my fiancé, Harold, usefulness was the only thing that saved me.”

  He grimaced, wanting to pull her close and hold her in comfort. Hell, he wanted to kiss her again.

  But he couldn’t do that. Even if Mary was right for Anne, she was not for him, and therefore he needed to leave her be. “I admire your strength.” Her inner strength called to him, but still, how could he allow her to slip beneath his guard when he knew all too well what could happen to her delicate body during childbirth? He couldn’t risk that kind of loss again. He took a step back. “I’m so glad you’re here to help my daughter.” He didn’t bother to add that her presence was a torture for him. A sweet sort of temptation that was going to bring him to his knees.

  Chapter Seven

  Mary had a lovely afternoon sketching with Anne followed by a wonderful dinner in the nursery. Without Lord Sinclair making her tremble with attraction, her job tutoring Anne was turning out to be a delight.

  Brushing out her hair, she carefully braided the long brown strands into a loose braid over her shoulder. She’d changed into a night rail and dressing gown and hummed as she worked through the hair. It had been a very satisfying day.

  A cry from the other room made her sit up. The noise sounded again, louder and stronger than the first time.

  Jumping from the chair,
she raced into the Anne’s connecting room, positive that was the noise’s source.

  Sure enough, the child thrashed on the bed, her cries growing louder. Mary settled next to Anne, cupping the child’s cheek. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You’re fine.”

  “No,” Anne whimpered, her eyes still closed. “No.”

  “Shhhh.” Mary softly stroked the child’s cheek, then she began to sing. “Sleep my child, let peace attend thee, all through the night.”

  Anne sighed, her limbs settling back at her sides.

  “Guardian angels, God will send thee, all through the night.”

  Anne’s eyes opened then. “I like that. Can you sing more?”

  “Soft the drowsy hours are keeping. In the veil of slumber sleeping. I my loving vigil keeping all through the night.”

  Anne placed her hand over Mary’s. “Will you stay with me for a bit?”

  “Of course,” Mary answered. “There now. There’s no need to worry.” And she lay down on top of the covers, still stroking Anne’s cheek. “I’m right here.”

  Anne curled into Mary’s side and in seconds was back to sleep again. Mary, however, lay next to the child for a long time. Only when Anne was deeply asleep, did she finally rise from the bed and return to her room.

  She didn’t bother to close the door before she moved to her bed and climbed under her covers. She didn’t bother to take off her dressing gown either. Mary had the feeling she’d be up again before too long. But as she relaxed into the pillow, a knock sounded at her door.

  Crinkling her brow, she tossed back the cover and crossed the floor to open the large wooden panel. Sin stood on the other side, still fully dressed. Her breath caught to see him standing there in the dark. “My lord,” she asked. “What is it?”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I heard Anne. When I went to comfort her, you were already there and I didn’t think it appropriate to enter, but I wanted to check on you before I retired.”

  Something inside her melted a bit. He was accustomed to soothing his child back to sleep. “I’m fine and so is she.” She hesitated, leaning her cheek on the edge of the door. “Do you get up with her often in the night?”

  He nodded. “Three, sometimes four times. The nanny helps too, of course, but she needs a repose.”

  “I will see to her care this evening. You must be exhausted as well.”

  He gave her a sideways glance, his eyes filled with apprehension as he stepped closer. “Will you run crying from this house when the fortnight is over?”

  That made her smile. “No, not because of this. But I am reconsidering the sleeping arrangements.”

  He took a half step closer. “How so?”

  “She has a right to be afraid and she needs comfort now. I think I should sleep in the room with her until she’s strong enough to be on her own.”

  He touched her cheek causing a shiver of pleasure to race down her spine. She nearly pulled back but he dropped his hand. “Thank you.” His face spasmed in pain. “You’ve no idea how much I appreciate your help,” he said before he turned and crossed the hall to his own room. She watched him enter and then close his door but still, she stood there, leaning against the cool wood.

  He hurt too. The loss of his wife, she’d seen it earlier today. Worry for his daughter.

  She closed her eyes. She could help him. Help them both. Then she thought of all she’d missed from Harold. She’d never know a man’s touch, the feel of his skin against hers. Sin was lucky in one regard, his love had been complete.

  Her fingers drifted to her lips as Mary remembered Sin’s kiss. Nothing had prepared her for his mouth against hers.

  Her conversation with Cordelia floated through her thoughts again. Her cousin had suggested that she marry Sin. Would he want her that way? He had kissed her but just as quickly he’d pulled away again.

  Hope bubbled in her chest. For her part, she thought she might be able to help them both move past their losses and fears.

  Sin paced his room for the better part of a quarter hour. Tired as he was, he knew there was little hope of sleep. He’d placed Anne across from his room when she’d begun having nightmares and Mary next to Anne for obvious reasons.

  But now, he knew that Mary was just steps away, curled in a bed under his roof. Bloody hell, this was not going well. He shouldn’t have brought her here, even provisionally.

  His body tightened with an aching need as he leaned his head on the fireplace mantle, squeezing his eyes shut.

  Pushing off the wood frame again, he headed for the door. Perhaps a drink in the library or a late-night walk in the garden would help him to find some sleep.

  He wrenched the knob in but then stopped mid stride. Mary stood exactly where he left her, leaning against the door. “Mary?”

  Her gaze, which had glassed over, snapped to his. “Oh dear. Yes. Sorry.” Then she started to close the large panel.

  “Wait.” He stepped toward her. “Why are you still there?”

  “I…” she whispered. “I was just thinking.”

  Desire pulsed through him. Even in the dark he saw the color fill her cheeks. “About?” he asked moving closer still. It was a dangerous game. He’d already kissed her once today.

  “Marriage,” she said, then sighed. “I was engaged. I know I told you already. Part of me wishes we’d married before he left. It’s silly, I know. But I’d like to know what all the fuss is about.”

  His throat went completely dry. “Fuss?”

  She shook her head, her hands fluttering up from her sides. “It doesn’t matter. Late night musings. Likely had too much tea. I shall see you in the morning.”

  She started to close the door but he reached up and placed his hand on the edge just above her head. A single strand of her hair tickled his palm. “You want to know what the fuss is about between a man and a woman?”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him, her slender neck arching toward him. “I’m not myself,” she said softly. “That kiss in the garden.”

  He touched her cheek, letting his hands slide down her jaw and over the silken skin of her throat. “I understand completely.” Then he leaned down and kissed her again. This one was not the chaste kiss of earlier, it was still soft but it burned with passion, lingering in a long, slow, burning desire. “And I think we’ve got a real problem.”

  She let out a soft sigh that was half groan and his insides flipped even as his cock went from hard to granite. “I’m going to have to leave, aren’t I?”

  “Perhaps,” he answered, stealing another taste of her sweet nectar. “Or mayhap there is another option. Meet me in my study before breakfast. Let’s say eight?”

  She shook her head. “Actually, I’d prefer if you just sacked me now. I’ll never sleep worrying about it.”

  His fingers were dancing over the base of her throat. “I am not going to sack you. If anything, your family should have me tossed in the stocks.”

  Her nose crinkled and it was so adorable, that he had to lean down and kiss it. “I doubt that. But if they knew of the kisses…”

  “We’d be wed,” he finished the thought for her. “Mary…” His voice dropped and he took a step back. “You remind me of my first wife. It’s difficult—”

  She parted her lips. “Oh dear,” she answered. “That would be a problem.”

  He started to trace her collarbone. “I loved her. And when she died, part of me died too, and I’m afraid to feel that way again.”

  “Do you mind if I ask how we’re alike? In what ways do I remind you of her?”

  He swallowed, an ache burning in his throat. “She was small, slender like you. Blonde hair and classic features…” He had to stop, the words making him ache.

  Her fingers reached up to cup his cheek and he found himself leaning into the touch. “I’ve an idea,” she said moving closer. “What if we simply engage in a marriage of convenience? I can help you raise Anne. Give you the heir you still need—”

  “Mary,” he warne
d. “I’m not sure I can give you what you deserve. My heart is half gone already.” And if she were to become pregnant…he’d perish with worry.

  She raised her brows. “As is mine.”

  His shoulders slumped. That was a good point. “I won’t be able to love you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not asking for your love. I just want a future of my own. In the process, I will aid you with yours.”

  “A marriage of convenience?” He leaned down again, stealing another kiss and then another. “The idea has merit.”

  He slid his hand down her arm, then laced her fingers through his. “I could be here for you and for Anne,” she said.

  His eyebrows rose. “And I could make you a countess. A far better life than that of a tutor.”

  She stepped back then, adding space between them. “Eight tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow,” he answered. But he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to touch her right now. Which might really be an issue with a marriage of convenience.

  Chapter Eight

  Mary ended up sleeping in Anne’s bed. The child was so afraid and they both got far more sleep that way. Still as she made her way down the stairs the next morning, she wondered if her exhaustion was going to impact her ability to reason with Sin.

  Pausing just outside his office, Mary pinched her cheeks. If she were honest, even when Anne was sleeping, she’d been awake thinking about the lord across the hall. Her Chase heritage had reared its head again as she’d actually managed to propose to an earl.

  She pushed her fingertips into the sockets of her eyes. Ridiculous. At least he seemed to be considering the proposal.

  Which was what had caused the sleeplessness. Every time she thought about actually being married to the man… visions of his kisses, the way he touched her danced through her thoughts.

  Then there were the other possibilities. Like bearing a baby of her own. She’d thought those possibilities had died with Harold and it had taken her a long time to open herself to them again. Which was why she needed to be gentle with Sin now.