I’ll have to thank her, if all goes well.
He glanced around the yard, at the stables and brewhouse. The grounds and buildings were well maintained. Darrow was right—Jo looked to be running an excellent operation.
One she won’t want to leave . . .
His heart twisted.
Had he made some sound? Miss Lewis looked back at him, her expression forcefully reminding him of a cat, readying itself to pounce on some tasty, small, helpless creature.
He was not small or helpless. His heart had broken before, and he’d survived.
He gave Miss Lewis as calm and enigmatic a smile as he could manage.
She emitted a short breath, likely of frustrated curiosity, and stopped in front of a closed door. “Here we are. Lady Havenridge’s office.”
“Thank you for escorting me, Miss Lewis. I won’t take any more of your time.”
The woman realized she’d made a strategic error by not opening the door first. “I should announce you.”
“No need. I’ll announce myself.” He’d managed to slide between her and the door, so she’d have to push him out of the way to reach it.
She looked at the door and then back at him before finally admitting defeat, curtseying, and walking away—slowly, very slowly, looking back over her shoulder several times.
He waited until she was out of sight, and then turned and knocked.
“Come in!”
Blast, that was Livy’s voice. Well, Jo had said they were working together. He took a deep, steadying breath and pushed the door open.
“Edward!”
That was Jo. She’d been sitting at a desk, but stood and took a step toward him—and stopped.
Are those tears on her cheeks?
“It’s about time you got here.”
And that was Livy. Had she made Jo cry?
He scowled at Livy—and Livy smiled back at him, looking very self-satisfied, as if she could see everything he was thinking.
And feeling.
He looked down in a vain attempt to protect some shred of privacy—and saw a brown and white spaniel. A distraction!
“Hey there.” He bent down and held out his hand. “You must be Freddie.”
Freddie padded over to sniff his fingers and then allowed Edward to scratch his ears, closing his eyes in canine ecstasy.
I felt just this way when your mistress stroked me, Freddie.
And he’d better not allow his thoughts to run in that direction, particularly not while Livy was still in the room.
He gave Freddie one last pat, straightened, and—
“What is it?” Both Livy and Jo were staring at him as if he’d grown a second head.
Livy looked at Jo, so he did, too. Surely, she hadn’t minded him petting her dog?
“Freddie doesn’t like men,” Jo said. “He growls at them.”
That’s right. She’d said as much that first day on the lawn at Darrow.
“I hope he knows I’m a man.” Edward looked down at Freddie, who was sitting by his left foot. “You do, don’t you, Freddie?”
Freddie looked up at him, barked in apparent confirmation, and then wagged his tail for good measure.
“He probably recognizes your scent from Jo.” Livy gave Jo a speaking look, though what it was saying was a mystery to Edward.
But apparently not to Jo. A bright red flush bloomed across her cheeks.
Anger sliced through him. I won’t have Livy teasing Jo.
Not that it was his place—yet or perhaps ever—to defend Jo, but his gut didn’t wait for his better judgment to assert itself.
“Good God, Livy, are you suggesting Jo hasn’t bathed or changed her clothes since Darrow? That was two months ago.”
Livy was still looking at Jo. “No, I’m suggesting she has something of yours.”
He hadn’t thought Jo’s face could get any redder, but he’d been mistaken. She now resembled a very ripe apple.
And he was beginning to think he’d landed in Bedlam. “Are you calling Jo a thief then?”
Livy laughed!
“Oh, no. She didn’t steal it—you gave it to her quite, quite freely.”
Jo moaned. She’d gone from red to white. She looked like she might faint.
Edward stepped closer so he could catch her if she started to go down. “Stop speaking in riddles, Livy. It is extremely annoying.”
The blasted female looked as if she would explode with mirth. A little snigger did manage to escape before she slapped her hand over her mouth. Now all he could see were her laughing eyes—yet they also held some warmer, more charitable emotion, so he didn’t snap at her again.
“I’ll just take myself off, shall I?” Livy said. “Jo has important things to tell you, Edward, and I can see I’m very much in the way.”
“Very much,” he said, looking back at Jo.
Jo still hadn’t said anything. That was making him very anxious indeed. From his experience—admittedly limited, but still, he felt, reliable—she wasn’t one to hold her tongue. What could be the problem?
Perhaps she’d speak more freely once Livy left. Though he couldn’t imagine Jo being cowed by anyone, Livy included.
“Come on, Freddie,” Livy said.
Edward watched them leave. He turned back to Jo once the door closed behind them. She seemed nervous.
Or perhaps he was the nervous one.
“Why did you name your dog Freddie?” he asked—and then wished he could recall the words. He didn’t want to talk about Freddie—canine or human.
Jo frowned. “I don’t know. The name just seemed to fit. Maybe he looks a little like my late husband—that Freddie had brown eyes, too.” She sighed, shook her head. “Or maybe it was because I saved this Freddie from drowning, and I couldn’t save my husband. He didn’t drown literally, of course, but I think he did drown in debt, drink, and despair.”
Edward nodded. He understood that feeling of helplessness, that inability to change life’s course. Helen’s death had been sudden, the cause clear. He’d known he’d had no chance at all to save her, but he’d still hated the feeling of powerlessness that had gripped him as tightly as if he were in a vise.
“Did you get my letter?” Jo asked.
“Yes.” He frowned. Jo had said she was working with Livy, but . . . He searched her face. She looked pale again, almost wan. There were shadows under her eyes. What could be amiss?
“Jo, did Livy make you cry?”
Jo shook her head—and suddenly her eyes brightened. She looked as if she had a secret to share. Could it have something to do with Livy’s cryptic remark about Freddie?
“What did she mean when she said you had something of mine?”
Jo grinned. Well, she glowed.
“Oh, Edward! I really can’t believe it, but Livy says it’s true, and she seems to know about these things. Well, it is true I’ve been unusually tired. And out of sorts. But I never in a million years would have thought . . . I mean I know what everyone said, but I still believed it couldn’t happen.”
This torrent of words was unlike her—and difficult to follow. “What couldn’t happen, Jo?”
“You’ll never guess!”
Could he shake it out of her? “Right, I won’t. So please, just tell me.”
If it were possible, Jo’s smile grew even bigger.
“Livy says I’m pregnant!”
He stared at her, his mouth agape, too dumbfounded to process her meaning.
Pregnant? Could Jo really be pregnant?!
“I thought my courses had started.” She flushed and looked away. “There was evidence—”
“Jo. Remember. I was married. I know how this all works.” Yes, and I know how it can end—in pain and death and—
He pushed those dark thoughts aside. Nothing in life was certain, so he would try to choose hope over despair. Happiness over worry.
And he was happy—very, very happy. Another child? Another son—or a daughter?
He grinned. “Now you�
��ll have to marry me.”
“Yes.” She laughed and closed the gap between them. She flung her arms around him, and he finally, finally took Thomas’s advice and kissed her.
Chapter Twenty
Edward looked out the window of his traveling coach as it bowled along the road to Little Puddledon. He had a special license in his pocket and his son—along with Bear—on the seat across from him. By the end of the day, he and Jo would be married.
He should be ecstatic. It was almost a fairy tale. He had finally found love, and he was going to be a father again.
But have I found love?
He loved Jo, but did Jo love him?
She’d said she loved him in the temple that last day at Darrow, but she’d also said she didn’t know if she loved him enough to change her life for him. She’d said she needed time away from him to see if what she felt for him would last.
She hadn’t mentioned love in the letter she’d written him. No, she’d mentioned Livy and the many plans they had. And she’d not mentioned love when he’d seen her just a few days ago and she’d told him she was increasing.
And then I told her she had to marry me.
He cringed and shifted on the squabs.
She hadn’t argued the point, of course. How could she?
After a few passionate kisses, they’d moved on to talking about the wedding. Jo had wanted to get married at the Home and had said, rightly, that Thomas needed to be there, too. So, Edward had kissed her once more and got back on his horse to ride for Grainger.
Which had given him three days by himself to think. Three days to water any seeds of doubt and have them grow into a dense forest.
Had he misread the situation? Jo had been crying and pale when he’d first stepped into her office. She hadn’t come flying across the room and into his arms the moment she’d seen him. She’d stayed by her desk. Had that been only because Livy was there? But she hadn’t rushed into his arms the moment the door had closed behind Livy and Freddie, either.
And yes, there had been those kisses, but had it been more a matter of him kissing her? Had her passion matched his?
Surely, I would have noticed any reluctance . . .
He wasn’t entirely certain he would have. He’d been so happy at her news and then so very happy to have her in his arms again, her mouth under his that he might well have missed any subtle signs.
Well, he was afraid he might have missed anything more subtle than a slap across the face.
Does she truly want to marry me? Does she regret having to change her life?
The answers didn’t matter. Jo no longer had a choice. He’d been right in that. They had to marry. Harriet might say that being a bastard was not a great burden, but Lady Bianca had the right of it. Bastardy was a burden. A heavy, crushing burden.
Zeus! Jo hated to be pressured, forced to do anything against her will, and this was the greatest pressure of all. And while it was true she’d gone to bed with him willingly, she’d also believed she couldn’t conceive. She hadn’t fully accepted the risk.
Did she feel like her body had betrayed her again? Trapped her? That he’d trapped her?
He wanted a wife who loved him, who was eager to share his life with all its ups and downs, joys and sorrows. A partner. A friend as well as a lover.
It made no difference. He no longer had a choice, either.
“Are you sad, Papa?”
Thomas had come over to sit beside him, and was now looking up at him with searching eyes.
Eyes that always saw too much.
Edward forced a smile. “No, Thomas. How can I be sad? We are going to see Miss Jo. She’s going to marry me and be your mother. And you’re going to have a baby brother or sister.”
Thomas was not fooled. “Yes. But you still look sad.”
And what was he to say to that? He wasn’t certain he could explain the matter even to himself.
“I suppose I’m just a little tired. And perhaps a little nervous. It’s not every day a man marries.”
Thomas frowned, clearly not convinced. He opened his mouth—
And was interrupted by Bear barking.
Edward had never been so happy for some canine commotion, deafening though it was in the confines of the coach. What had set Bear off?
Ah. There were the first stone houses of the village.
“Look, Thomas. We’ve reached Little Puddledon.”
Thomas pressed his nose to the window. “Where does Miss Jo live?”
“Up the hill. We’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
Well, more than a few. He’d forgotten that the coach would need to slow to almost a crawl to navigate the narrow village streets.
“People are staring, Papa. And waving. May I wave back?”
“Of course.” There did seem to be a festive air among the villagers—which, ironically perhaps, only depressed his spirits further.
“They seem happy to see us, Papa.”
“I imagine they are happy for Miss Jo. She’s lived here for a long time, Thomas. They all know her.”
And now she would have to leave this village and all her friends to come live with him among strangers.
His spirits fell further.
The traveling coach passed by the Dancing Duck, rumbled across the bridge over the stream, and then labored up the hill to the Manor.
They could walk faster than the bloody vehicle was moving.
“Are we almost there, Papa?” Thomas still had his nose pressed to the window.
“Yes.”
Part of Edward wanted to urge the coachman to hurry the horses—and the other part wanted to add several lead weights, slowing their progress even more.
“There it is, Papa! Oh! Look at all the ladies!” And then, somewhat less excitedly. “And all the girls.”
Word of their arrival must have preceded them, because there was quite the welcoming committee assembled.
“And there’s Miss Jo!”
Zeus! Edward’s heart leapt at the sight of her.
Perhaps I love her enough for both of us.
And then Jo saw him, and her smile widened—
Or perhaps it was Thomas she saw.
The coach rocked to a stop. Edward didn’t wait for his coachman, but opened the door, let the steps down—
Oh, hell. He saw Freddie just as Bear gave a great woof and flew past him, eager to get free of the confining carriage and meet a new friend.
* * *
This was not the way she’d pictured Edward’s return, Jo thought as she tried to control the chaos. It was quite a cacophony—dogs barking, girls shrieking, horses neighing, coachman shouting.
“Freddie, behave. Esther, please don’t scream. Bear is friendly. No, Bathsheba, he’s not really a bear.”
Bess had posted a lookout—Edward had hoped to arrive today, but hadn’t been certain he would, the roads being so unreliable. Once he’d been spotted, Tabitha had come running up from the Dancing Duck to spread the word—and then everyone had found a reason to be out in front of the Manor.
And then Bear had jumped out of the coach and pandemonium had ensued.
Edward had finally managed to grab Bear’s collar and persuade the dog to sit, even though Freddie kept sniffing around him. Livy had gone over to talk to him. Jo would—
“Miss Jo.”
She turned around—and grinned. “Thomas! I didn’t see you in all the confusion. I’m so glad you’re here.” She opened her arms and was delighted he came into them for a hug. “I’m so happy I’m going to be your stepmama.”
“I’m happy, too, Miss Jo.” Then he whispered, “Will you talk to Papa?”
Her smile faltered. Thomas looked worried. “Is something the matter?”
The boy nodded. “I think Papa’s sad.”
“Oh.” Her heart sank. There was only one reason she could think of for that. “Is he sad about getting married?”
Thomas shook his head sharply. “No. I don’t think that’s it. I don’t know what
it is. Can you take him off by himself? Maybe then he’ll tell you.”
“Yes, of course.” But how was she going to manage that? She looked around. Everyone who lived at the Home was there, milling around—and looking at Edward.
“I think Bear must need a walk,” Thomas said. “Maybe your Freddie does, too?”
“Good idea.” She straightened and turned to see Edward and Livy and the dogs walking toward them.
“What plot are you two hatching?” Edward asked, smiling.
The smile didn’t reach his eyes. Jo’s stomach sank as he turned to introduce Livy to his son.
“This is Miss Williams, Thomas. An old friend.”
Thomas made a credible bow.
“And this, of course, is Freddie,” Jo said, seeing that her dog was sniffing Thomas’s shoes.
Thomas squatted down and held his hand out. “Hallo, Freddie. I’m Thomas.”
Freddie licked Thomas’s face.
Thomas laughed and looked up at her. “Freddie must like boys, Miss Jo.” Then he looked at Edward. “And he must like you, too, Papa. He didn’t growl at you.”
Was Edward’s color heightened? He was likely thinking, as Jo was, of what Livy had said when Freddie had first met Edward.
Livy certainly was. Her eyes gleamed with devilment. She wasn’t going to say something inappropriate with Thomas there, was she?
Jo leapt into speech to forestall the possibility. “Thomas was just telling me that Bear needs a walk.”
“An excellent idea!” Livy said. “Why don’t the two of you attend to that, and I’ll take charge of Thomas?” She smiled at the boy. “Would you like to meet Bumblebee, Thomas?”
Thomas’s eyes widened. “A bumblebee?”
Jo laughed. “Bumblebee is my horse’s name, Thomas. Well, she’s hardly more than a pony and getting on in years. She’s very gentle.”
Thomas looked at Edward. “May I, Papa?”
“Of course.”
Jo stood next to Edward as they watched his son go off with Livy to the stables. She felt such a gulf between them, they might just as well be strangers.
What in the world is the matter with the man?
Cheers to the Duke Page 23