“I also want you to remember that no one blackmails a member of my family.”
Lord Dobbins’s face took on the color of an overripe plum. “They were Carla’s debts.”
Heath shrugged. “You are not the first man to have a spendthrift wife.”
The front door slammed, punctuating Heath’s words and reminding Dobbins that his wife had just left.
“What else did I sign away?” Lord Dobbins demanded.
“I would speak to my man of business,” Heath politely advised him.
His lordship stood a second longer, and then, finally realizing his threats no longer carried any weight, left, moving toward the front door, presumably to catch his wife.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Andres faced his father-in-law. “I am in your debt.”
“You are a clever man, Ramigio,” Heath Montross said. “You have ambition. You remind me a bit of myself, although you are not half as handsome. That was a small jest, son,” he said.
“Son"—he had called Andres “son.”
The word sounded good.
“By the way,” her father continued, “I also have a confession of my own. I lied about the trust. The money is yours, Abby. I was hoping to disappoint
your Spaniard and you would have had to return home with me. I didn’t see the love then, but I do now. All I wanted was a man worthy of you.”
“And you realize Andres is?” Abby asked, very pleased.
“Yes, you have found a good one. Come, Cate, I want my dinner.” He took his wife’s arm, and they walked down the hall to the supper room.
Andres put his arm around his wife, pulling her close. He kissed her curls, the top of her forehead. “Thank you,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “You said you loved me. In front of everyone.”
“I’ll say it again. I’ll say it every day of my life, my palomita.”
“No, now it is my turn.” She placed her arms around his waist. “You’ve changed me, Andres. You’ve made me a woman in all ways. My life is richer and fuller because I am by your side. I love you with a passion that grows every day. But more important, I respect you, my love. You’ve taught me to dream.”
“And you have taught me to live,” he answered. “You are right, Abby, I was thinking of taking my life that night. I thought I had nothing. Now, I find I have everything I ever wished for and more.”
“I love you,” she answered.
He hugged her tight. The smell of Christmas dinner floated in the air … but he wasn’t hungry—at least, not for food.
She caught what he was thinking. Her smile turned wicked, seductive. “Perhaps we would rather return to my parents’ house?”
“How many rooms do they have in it?” he wondered.
“So that we can make love in every room?” she asked eagerly. “They have twice as many as we have at Stonemoor.”
“Then we must leave,” he assured her. “We have a busy night ahead.”
And they did.
Later that night, as all the house slept, Andres held Abby in his arms, sated and content with life.
And it was a miracle to him.
“I have a present for you,” she murmured.
“There is no need,” he answered sleepily. “You have given me all that I want.”
“Yes, but I have one gift we shall both enjoy.” She whispered into his ear news he’d not expected. He was to be a father.
The richness of his life humbled him. “Abby, thank you,” he whispered, holding her tightly.
“You had a hand in it,” she said, her voice brimming with happy laughter.
“Did I?” He wrapped one of her rebellious curls around his finger. “Before you, I had given up, palomita. I had lost my way.”
“And I helped you find it,” she said, snuggling close to him.
“Yes, my love,” he answered. “You helped me find it.”
Epilogue
Destinada foaled on a blustery, wet morning in March.
Andres had stayed up all night with the mare, waiting. Abby had joined him for a good portion of the time, although as the hour had grown late, her husband had sent her to bed.
She’d been organizing the linen press, trying to put her mind off what was happening at the stables, when Andres had sent a stable lad for her. “Come quick, my lady. It’s time, it’s time,” the lad had said to her.
Abby had leapt to her feet and come running, leaving behind the smell of clean sheets and lavender for the earthy scents of the stables. So much depended on this foal. Andres had warned her a mare’s first foal was often the worst, and any number of things could go wrong with nature.
They’d built a birthing stall onto the stables. It was more sheltered from the elements than the others were. As she marched through the spring mud and stepped out of the wind into the stables, Abby was glad they’d invested the money.
She could hear Andres encouraging the mare in Spanish. The stable lads had gathered outside the stall and peered in to watch. Abby joined them, having to step up on a wood box to see in.
Destinada lay on her side in the clean straw, her labor a sight to behold. Andres stood back, his body tense, as if he readied himself to help the mare at any moment.
“How is she doing?” Abby whispered.
Andres had been so intent on the horse that he’d not realized Abby had arrived. He gave her a quick smile and shrugged. “We shall know soon.”
The mare looked distressed, as if not certain what was happening and yet, at the same time, all too aware. Her eye met Abby’s, and for a second Abby sensed an understanding between them. All creatures suffered in childbirth.
Abby dropped her hand to rest on her own belly. She was just beginning to show. Andres assured her she would feel the baby’s movements soon now. She couldn’t wait.
“Am I too late?” her father’s voice bellowed from outside. He appeared in the doorway and came stomping down the aisle, trying to rid the mud from his boots.
True to his word, her father had proven he wanted to be a fixture in their lives. Both he and her mother had moved from London and now rented a house in Corbridge. Abby was learning her father had the heart of a farmer, and he’d embraced the stables as a good investment. There could be no higher praise from him.
“You are right on time,” Andres called to him.
Her father came to stand by Abby. He shuddered at the sight of the mare. “Women’s work,” he muttered, and she laughed.
But before she could comment, the foal started to emerge. A thin white membrane covered the two front feet and head. Destinada seemed to have some difficulty pushing her baby out. Andres leaned over, grabbed the foal’s feet, and pulled. The baby slid free from its mother.
Abby hadn’t known what to expect, or that she would be as moved as she was in watching the birth. The miracle of new life was amazing, but what touched her to the core was how gently her husband helped the mare.
Andres removed the membrane, taking the time to rub the foal’s ears, head, and sides. He grinned up at Abby. “It’s a colt.” They had been discussing which sex they would prefer. Jonathan had insisted on purchasing Destinada’s foal and had been anxious for a stallion. This would please him.
“What happens now?” Abby asked.
“We give mare and foal a moment,” Andres said. He came to his feet, pride in his eyes. “He’s a good one,” he said. The stable lads all added their agreement.
“How can you tell?” her father wondered, voicing the question Abby had.
“He’s perfectly formed,” Andres said. “Holburn’s stallion is well worth the breeding.”
“But the foal is a dark bay,” Abby answered. “I thought he’d be gray, since both his mother and father are so white.”
“He will be,” Andres said. “He’ll gray out as he grows older.”
“Even with that star on his head?” her father asked.
“Yes,” Andres said with certainty.
At that moment
, Destinada rose to her feet. She gave a shake, the movement going through her whole body like a woman adjusting her skirts. She then turned and, with a mother’s insistent gentleness, nudged her colt.
He blinked at her, his wide, wondering eyes framed by long lashes.
“He doesn’t look as if he knows quite where he is yet,” Abby said.
“It must be different to be here than from where he was,” one of the stable lads agreed.
And then, to her amazement, the colt clambered to his feet. His legs seemed overlong and way too thin, and yet he stood. Destinada nickered her approval.
The colt looked to his audience. He took his first tentative step and then stopped, surprised by his audacity. Even the most hardened of the stable lads smiled approval.
“He’s a right handsome one, my lord,” Neddie, the lead groomsman, said. They all nodded. Andres beamed with pride.
Within seconds, the colt found his bearings. Destinada had started eating. The colt seemed to follow the sound of her munching and was soon rooting on his mother, looking for his dinner.
The scene was one of maternal bliss. A longing for the child growing inside her filled Abby. Her husband must have felt the same, because he came out of the stall and put his arm around her.
“That is a fine-looking horse,” her father declared. “Good breeding. It’s what I’m expecting from the two of you,” he said, a comment that brought laughter from everyone gathered. Even Abby had to smile in spite of the heat rushing to her cheeks.
“What are you naming the colt?” her father demanded.
“Dinero,” Andres answered.
“Dinero? The Spanish word for money? I like that,” her father said. “Dinero.”
The colt pulled from his mother to look around, as if sensing they were talking about him. “He is intelligent,” Andres said with pride.
“Aye, the best,” her father agreed. “When do we breed her again?”
“When she is ready,” Andres said. “In the meantime, we have the other Andalusians you found. They should be here next month.” Her father had become so enthused about the horses that he’d made inquiries. His contacts had located two more horses bred from Andres’s father’s stables. One was a stallion. They were on their way from Italy.
“I’m going to fetch your mother,” her father said. “She must see this.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t come with you,” Abby said.
“She was with her church group.” Her father sighed. Her mother had jumped into the daily life of Corbridge and was currently helping to organize a fund to purchase a new bell for St. Andrews’s tower. “We’ll be back shortly,” he promised and left.
The stable hands had to return to their chores as well.
Andres and Abby didn’t budge but stood watching this newest member of their stables.
Her husband leaned over and brushed a kiss against her hair. “We have our first success, palomita. That colt is beyond compare, and the next one will be even better. We are a success.”
“You are,” she corrected him. “You are a success. I’m just the good woman who had the sense to stand beside you.”
The expression on his face turned her heart inside out. She knew she had touched him with her words. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “I do not deserve you. You’ve given me all that I ever wanted.”
“What is that? My opinions?” she teased him.
“Your love, your trust … your family.”
“We were meant to find each other,” she whispered. And he nodded.
“From the first moment we met,” he agreed. “It is not every woman who knocks me off my feet.”
Abby started to laugh, but the sound caught in her throat as she felt her baby’s first move. She widened her eyes in surprise. It had been the lightest of fluttering, and yet it had been there, separate and distinct from herself. “I felt him,” she said.
“Where?” Andres demanded, already placing his hand on her belly.
“You may not feel it,” she started, but there it was again, and she could see by Andres’s transfixed expression that he’d felt it as well.
And in that moment, she knew herself truly complete.
Oh, there would be challenges in their future, although she had no fear. They’d already proven they could overcome all odds.
But she also realized that just as Andres had what he’d always wanted—a family, his horses, a place in the world—she’d discovered what she’d been searching for. She was loved by a man who honored her. No matter what life threw at them, they were together. Two would become one.
She kissed her husband, holding him tight—forever and ever.
Andres had secrets …
She knew so little about him, and what she knew was mostly rumor from women who were so batty-eyed over him, they’d lost all sensibility and decorum.
And here she’d put herself in his hands.
“You can trust me,” he said. “I will never hurt you. I am your protector.”
“And what does that mean?” she asked. Their faces were no more than a hand’s width apart and she found herself staring at his mouth, noticing how masculine, how sensual, his lips were.
Those lips curved into a smile.
Oh, yes, he knew what she was thinking.
“It means this,” he whispered—and then leaned toward her for a kiss.
By Cathy Maxwell
HIS CHRISTMAS PLEASURE
THE MARRIAGE RING
THE EARL CLAIMS HIS WIFE
A SEDUCTION AT CHRISTMAS
IN THE HIGHLANDER’S BED
BEDDING THE HEIRESS
IN THE BED OF A DUKE
THE PRICE OF INDISCRETION
TEMPTATION OF A PROPER GOVERNESS
THE SEDUCTION OF AN ENGLISH LADY
ADVENTURES OF A SCOTTISH HEIRESS
THE LADY IS TEMPTED
THE WEDDING WAGER
THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT
A SCANDALOUS MARRIAGE
MARRIED IN HASTE
BECAUSE OF YOU
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE
FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN
YOU AND NO OTHER
TREASURED VOWS
ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2010 by Catherine Maxwell, Inc.
ISBN 978-0-06-177206-1
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