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Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords & Ladies in Love)

Page 20

by Callie Hutton


  She would even—she shuddered—host another dinner party with orders she was not to be disturbed.

  For any reason.

  Feeling lighthearted and good about her decision, and anxious to begin the process of packing and returning to Town, she pulled on the reins and turned Bessie. Tapping the side of the animal with her crop, they took off, bounding down the hill toward the manor.

  The first thing she would do when she returned to London was to tell Nash that he meant more to her than the animals. He had captured her heart. She grinned at the thought and hoped it wasn’t too late. He had tried to reason with her, but she’d been stubborn about doing everything her way. No more.

  A slight niggling of doubt crept into her thoughts. Had he already given up on her? Would he turn her away when she returned? Chewing on her lip and pondering Nash’s response, she neglected to steer Bessie away from the rabbit hole. The horse stumbled, and Arabella went flying through the air, landing with a thump on her hip. Dazed, she sat up, then stood. A wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her, and she felt a stickiness between her legs.

  Her knees buckled, and she landed back on the ground.

  My baby!

  …

  Nash was finishing up his correspondence in preparation for leaving for Clarendon Manor. He would put a few hours on the road today, spend the night at an inn, and reach the Manor tomorrow. It had been a good decision.

  After Manchester had left him the prior evening, Nash had sat and considered his situation. Yes, Arabella was stubborn. Yes, Arabella enjoyed taking care of injured animals. Yes, Arabella disdained Society and was not what he’d planned on when he’d decided to take a wife.

  But she was his wife. Their two weeks apart had convinced him he did not want to live without her. Her deep commitment to helping those in need spoke a great deal about her character. So, she was not a frivolous miss, who lived to attend parties, and talk about styles and gossip, and cut other young ladies down. There was not a mean bone in the woman’s body.

  That was what he loved about her. And love her he did. As Manchester had said, if it made her happy, then it would make him happy, as well. Who needed a well-run house, anyway? He chuckled at the thought as Quinn entered the library. “My lord, a messenger has arrived from Clarendon Manor.”

  A messenger? “Send him in.”

  “My lord.” The man Nash recognized as a lesser groom at Clarendon Manor entered the room, his hat in his hand. He held out a missive that Nash took and read. All the blood left his face, and he tried to control his breathing.

  Lady Clarendon took a spill from her horse. May lose the babe.

  It had been signed by his housekeeper. Numb for a moment, he recovered himself and addressed the groom. “Go to the kitchen and have Cook fix you something to eat.” He turned to his man of business. “An emergency has come up, and I must leave immediately for the country.”

  “What about the rest of the correspondence? And I have a very promising report from the man who is running the venture you invested in. While I would not say your financial problems are over, they are certainly much less dire than they had been.”

  Despite the good news, Nash was anxious to be on his way. “Pack it up and bring all of it with you to the Manor. Take my carriage. I will be riding one of the stable horses.”

  He left the room and instructed Quinn to have Andrews pack him an overnight bag and to notify the stables that he will need one of the sturdier horses saddled and ready to leave post haste.

  May lose the babe.

  The words echoed in his brain as he changed into riding clothes and made ready to leave. Arabella must be terrified. And alone.

  What a fool I’ve been.

  …

  The two-day trip turned into ten hours with Nash only allowing himself stops at inns along the way to switch horses and eat a quick meal. He was tired and scruffy when he rode over the rise before Clarendon Manor. He paused for a moment, which he did whenever he arrived home. The sight of the place he’d been raised, and where generations of Lords Clarendon had lived, always caused his heart to swell.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what he would find, then kicked the horse to finish his journey, riding into the stable. With a quick nod to the stable master, he jumped from the horse, tossed the reins to the man’s outstretched hand, and headed to the house.

  All was quiet when he entered. “Good evening, my lord.”

  Nash nodded at the butler at the door, a new man. “Is her ladyship in her bedchamber?”

  “Yes, my lord. I believe the surgeon is with her now.”

  His lips tight, Nash bounded up the stairs. He knocked lightly on the door and entered. Arabella lay in bed, apparently asleep. She was pale, her lustrous hair spread over the pillow where her head rested. The surgeon spoke with Sophia, who turned at his entrance. “Oh my lord. Thank heavens you are here.”

  Suddenly his mouth dried up, fearing what he would hear. Gritting his teeth, he moved toward the bed. “How is she?”

  The surgeon smiled. “This is my second visit. Her ladyship bruised her hip when she fell, which is a minor concern. My fear had been for the babe she told me she was carrying.”

  Nash nodded and held his breath as he waited for the man to continue. “She has had some bleeding, but as of this morning, it has stopped. If it does not start up again, I think the babe will be fine.”

  Nash released the breath and tears flooded his eyes. He wanted to drop to his knees and thank God, but right now he needed more information. He swallowed several times to keep the tears from falling. “And she is well?”

  “Yes. Only a bruised hip. But she was very lucky. A fall like this in her condition could have been quite catastrophic.”

  “Nash?” Arabella’s weakened voice called to him from the bed. “You came.” Her smile lit up her face, causing him to grin.

  “Yes, sweetheart. I came as soon as I received word of your accident.”

  She rested her hands on her stomach. “The doctor thinks the baby might be all right.”

  He walked to the bed and sat alongside her, taking her hand in his. “Yes, he just told me.” He kissed her hand and rested her palm on his face. “How do you feel?”

  “Tired. I have been given something to sleep since the doctor thought sleep and bed rest might keep the babe in place.”

  He studied her for a minute, taking in the lavender and lemon scent that followed her everywhere. She looked tired and wan, but never more beautiful to him. How he had missed her, and how much he wanted to make things right between them.

  “I want to—”

  They both started at once. However, what he wanted to say required privacy. He looked over his shoulder at the surgeon and Sophia. “If you will leave us now, I would like to speak with her ladyship in private.”

  The surgeon nodded. “I have given instructions to her lady’s maid. If you have any questions, please send a note around and I will return. Right now, it looks as though all is well as long as her ladyship remains in bed for at least two weeks.”

  “I guarantee it, sir.” He turned to Arabella. “Even if I have to tie her to the bed.”

  The surgeon coughed slightly, and he and Sophia left the room.

  Nash looked down at Arabella who looked uneasy, as though she were afraid of what he intended to say. He rubbed his suddenly wet palms on his pants. “There are several things we need to discuss.”

  …

  Arabella couldn’t believe Nash was really here. She had thought about him, and prayed that he would come to her, so much so, that when he’d first entered the room, she was afraid her tired mind had conjured him up from her imagination.

  He looked so good. Scruffy, with red-rimmed eyes and his clothes full of road dust. He studied her with such concern in his eyes, she imagined perhaps he returned her feelings. Could she be so fortunate that he had discovered during their separation that he wanted her as much as she wanted him?

  “I’m sorry—”
r />   Again, they both spoke at the same time. Nash held up his hand. “No, I go first.” He took both of her hands in his and kissed her knuckles, gazing into her eyes as he spoke. “I love you, Arabella. The last two weeks have been terrible, the worst time of my life. I miss you, your smile, your laughter, and yes, the craziness that is our life.

  “As I have now joined the ranks of to-be-pitied besotted husbands, I will no longer complain about your animals. I want you to be happy, sweetheart, and if being up to your elbows in animal blood”—he shuddered—“makes you happy, then it will make me happy, as well.”

  Arabella swallowed the sob threatening to erupt from her chest. “And I love you, Nash.” She continued in a thick voice, fighting the tears. “It only took a few days here by myself to realize I care about you and our marriage more than I ever will about animals. I was planning to come back to London to host another dinner party”—she shuddered—“and be the perfect ton wife when I was thrown from Bessie.”

  “Ah, sweeting, you are the perfect ton wife for me.” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. “The best thing that ever happened to me was you falling into my arms in a dark library at the Ashbourne’s ball. I thought I wanted a typical debutante for a wife. You showed me that what I considered a typical wife would make me bored and restless for the rest of my life.”

  Despite her best effort, a lone tear slid down her cheek. “I am giving away most of the dogs in the kennel. The staff has been finding homes for them since I’ve been bedridden.”

  She released the rest of the tears that were trying so hard to burst forth. He pulled her up and hugged her to his chest. “We will each make some concessions, and I’m not promising that we won’t argue over things, but in the long run, what matters is we love each other, and we can overcome whatever difficulties we face.”

  Nash stretched out on the bed alongside Arabella. “I am exhausted.” He intertwined their fingers together. “I haven’t slept well since you left.”

  “Me, neither.”

  He tapped her on the nose. “I miss your warm bottom shoved up against my hip.”

  Arabella felt the heat rise to her face. “My lord!”

  Nash yawned and turned on his side. “I need food, but I’m too tired to go to the kitchen and interrupt Cook to make me something.”

  “My lady, is there anything else you need for the night?” Sophia entered the room and stopped abruptly when she saw Nash lying alongside Arabella on the bed. “Oh, excuse me, my lord.” She began to back out.

  Nash sat up. “No, wait. Don’t leave.”

  She continued to ease herself toward the door. “My lord?”

  “Yes. I am in dire need of sustenance. Please see what you can find in the kitchen. Bread, cheese, fruit, anything at all.”

  “Yes, my lord.” She still looked uncomfortable with the two of them in bed together. “My lady, do you wish something as well?”

  “Bring enough for both of us. Her ladyship needs food.” He rested his hand on her belly. “A great deal of food.”

  Sophia smiled. “Yes, my lord.”

  “And tea.”

  Once the door closed, Nash drew the covers off Arabella and ran his hand over her slight belly. He bent and kissed her stomach. “Good night, little one. Soon you will become part of the most peculiar family in all of Christendom.”

  Arabella’s brows rose. “Only Christendom, my lord?”

  He smiled her favorite crooked smile, warming her heart. “Give us time, my love, just give us time.”

  Epilogue

  September 1820, Clarendon Townhouse, London

  “Sweetheart, calm down. The dinner party will be fine. You have everything all planned out. Please don’t fret.” Nash pulled Arabella into his arms, trying desperately to soothe her. Perhaps, given her condition, he should not have allowed her to take this on, but once they’d returned from the country, she had insisted she could do it.

  This time a full month had gone into the planning. He had suggested she summon her mother from Bath to assist, but Arabella declined, seeming to want to prove something. Either to him or herself.

  He had joined her in her bedchamber, where Sophia was putting the finishing touches on her hair. Arabella looked beautiful, her pregnancy giving her skin a creamy glow. Her slight belly showed beneath her pale rose gown, reminding him that once this party ended, they would be heading back to Clarendon Manor.

  Parliament had recessed, and he was anxious to get Arabella away from the hot, humid London air. He swore every day the smell from the Thames got worse. He would have to give some serious thought to the future. As much as he enjoyed serving in Parliament, he was reluctant to bring his family back to Town. He’d learned from their short separation that living apart was not for him.

  They spoke of their trip back to the country as they descended the steps to the drawing room. Nash poured a brandy for him and a sherry for Arabella. They had only just taken their seats when there was a loud screech, followed by shouting. A small critter raced into the room with one of Arabella’s cats chasing the thing. Behind them was one of the downstairs maids waving a feather duster in her hand.

  “My lord, catch the cat,” Arabella hopped up and shouted.

  “Catch him?” Dear God, he was dressed for a dinner party, and his wife wanted him to catch a cat? One look at the frantic look on Arabella’s face was enough for him. “Certainly, I will catch him.”

  “Her.”

  “Yes. Of course.” The critter and the cat had vanished under the settee, so Nash got down on his knees and looked, only to have the mouse run at him. Startled, he jumped back and landed on his arse. The mouse ran around the room, the cat on its tail. The maid climbed onto a chair, screeching to raise the dead. The mouse stopped and hovered in the corner near the window. Just as Nash lunged at the cat, the obviously terrified mouse raced toward him and up his body. A loud wail came from the cat, robbed of his treat, who sailed through the air and landed on Nash’s chest.

  The cat’s claws latched onto Nash’s cravat, where it hung long enough for him to sneeze several times. He pulled the cat free and let him go.

  “I got him!” Quinn stood at the door, his hands cupped around the mouse.

  Arabella stared at Nash wide-eyed. “Oh dear.”

  “What?” He sneezed again.

  “Isn’t this how it all started?”

  Nash pulled on the cuffs of his shirt and dusted off his waistcoat. “Not quite, my love. We’re missing the mud.” He drew out his handkerchief and blew his nose.

  “My lord, Lord and Lady Slade have arrived.” Quinn still held the mouse in his hand. The cat had given up the chase and sat patiently licking herself.

  Straightening his cravat, Nash walked up to Arabella, extending his aristocratic arm. “Are you ready to greet your guests, my love?”

  Arabella stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Resting her hand on his arm, she shook her head. “My lord, you are as addlebrained as the rest of us. Welcome to the club.” She smiled as they walked toward the entrance hall, Lord and Lady Clarendon, their heads held high, ready to greet their guests.

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  Acknowledgments

  No book would be complete without input and knuckle rapping from my fabulous editor, Erin Molta. I could never do it without you.

  As always, the wonderful authors from the Beau Monde RWA group are so helpful when I’m stuck for a word to use, or need information on the Regency period.

  I love the support from my family, who leave me alone when they know I’m struggling, and my daughter who stops in my office every morning after her nightshift and shares her very humorous sarcasm with me. I’ve used many of her one-liners in my books.

  My twin grandsons, otherwise known as the “Twinadoes,” are the light of my life. When I’m worn out from trying to find th
e right way to say something, I take the five-minute drive to my son and daughter-in-law’s house and am immediately cheered up. Thank you, Jessica and Scott for sharing your wonderful boys with “Bamma.”

  About the Author

  Callie Hutton, the USA Today bestselling author of The Elusive Wife, writes both Regency and western historical romance with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). Callie lives in Oklahoma with several rescue dogs and her top cheerleader husband of many years. Her family also includes her daughter, son, and daughter-in-law. And twin grandsons, “The Twinadoes.”

  Callie loves to hear from readers. Contact her directly at calliehutton11@gmail.com or find her online at www.calliehutton.com. Sign up for her newsletter to receive information on new releases, appearances, contests, and exclusive subscriber content. Visit her on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

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