In the library, Thomas noticed Fitzwater restocking his cigars in his cedar box on top of his desk. “Fitzwater, where is the Duchess?”
“I believe she is upstairs, sir.”
“Upstairs? Why?”
“The doctor is examining her.”
“The doctor!” Thomas exclaimed. “Is she ill? Why didn’t anyone send for me?” Thomas immediately stormed out of the room and ran up the staircase. Constance was on her way down, “What is wrong with her? Why didn’t anyone send me a note?”
Constance caressed his cheek, “Calm down Your Grace, it is not that kind of sickness.”
Thomas searched her kind eyes and realized what she was trying to imply. “Oh…I see, well, thank you Constance.”
“You are very welcome, sir. And I am so happy for you,” she smiled, while walking down the staircase. “So much laughter in this dwelling now, it is such a warm feeling.”
Thomas stood idle watching Constance mumbling to herself and then preceded up the stairs. When he reached the main bedroom, Dr. Lynch was by Gwendolyn’s bedside.
“Oh Thomas, you are finally home!” Gwendolyn replied, smiling with glee upon seeing him.
The doctor turned to look at Gwendolyn one last time before he left, “Now remember what I said Duchess, the time frame, it must be followed accordingly.”
Thomas shook hands with the doctor right before his exit and then slowly emerged towards the bed. “What is wrong, love? What does he mean by time frame?”
Gwendolyn blushed and patted the empty spot next to her by the bed. “Come…come sit by me.”
Thomas immediately rushed to her side but instead of sitting calmly by the edge like she asked, he grabbed her into his arms and squeezed her tight. “Are we going to have another baby?”
Gwendolyn wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him tight. “Yes.”
“Are you all right, love? Any fever? Is the baby all right?”
Gwendolyn pulled apart from him and melted at the sight of his concerned stare. “Yes, darling, everything is fine. He just wants me to stay in bed for awhile, that’s all.”
“You do not seem to get so sick when you are immobile, love, maybe that’s sound advice. I will have Fitzwater send out the proper letters and cancel all future engagements for the next few months.”
“Yes,” she added, looking down at her lap.
“Something else is wrong, I can feel it,” Thomas asked panicky. “Tell me.”
“Well, he says…that it is unnatural for a woman my age to keep having children…that…that after this one, the doctor suggested that we…” she paused, trying to find the right words, “Discontinue from having them.”
“Discontinue? You mean…stop?”
“Yes.”
“You mean you and I…everything…bring to a halt?”
“Yes.”
Refrain from touching his own wife? The woman who sometimes brought him to his knees by her beauty from across a room? Thomas’ whole body went on the defensive. “You are only thirty-one Gwendolyn, why my mother was thirty-five when she had me!”
“Really? How do you know that?”
“My father was a notorious rake, don’t you know?” He sailed on, “My mother was a servant in his household; Jordan was illegitimate the first few months of his life. She was in her mid-twenties when my father married her.”
“I never knew that,” Gwendolyn pronounced in awe, watching Thomas fidgeting in his seat.
“See, you learn something new every day,” he quipped, leaning into her and kissing her on the forehead. “Oh bloody hell…I won’t be able to follow through with it Gwendolyn; is Dr. Lynch suggesting that we do not touch? If I cannot hold you in my arms…I will go mad!”
Gwendolyn caressed his cheek, “The same goes for me too. Why, just looking at you makes me want to pounce on you.”
Thomas grinned and then kissed her softly on her lips. Kissing her once was never enough. Oh God, he knew this going to happen. Five children later and he could not stop handling her. His lips found their way to her neck and Gwendolyn arched her throat up to receive him.
“It is no wonder I’m with child again,” Gwendolyn gushed, closing her eyes from his mouth nibbling on her ear. “My husband is an insufferable insatiable man.”
Quickly, his passion for her inflamed and they were immediately in each other’s arms. He was hotly bussing her mouth; kneading her breasts through her bodice when the rumbling sounds of stomping rounded down the hallway…then towards the door…then through the door…then pounce on top of the bed!
Thomas and Gwendolyn split apart and were besieged by mayhem. Thomas just barely opened up his arms to receive Millicent, their three year old daughter who jumped into his open embrace.
“Did sister put that crown of duck feathers in your hair?” He asked, kissing her forehead. Grey-green eyes and dark cherry hair, she looked exactly like Gwendolyn’s mother. Nodding in agreement, she laid her head down on her father’s chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
Gwendolyn tapped Thomas on the shoulder and shook her head at him, “Do not let her do that, her teeth will get crooked.”
Thomas gently pulled out her thumb then ran his fingers through Millicent’s soft curls then eyed the raven beauty making her regal entrance.
Mary came through the door holding Philip, barely a year, followed on her heel, Nathaniel, five and Jordan, four years of age.
“Father, Jordy keeps sticking his tongue out at me,” Nathaniel glowered, crossing his arms into his chest.
“No I won’t, Nattie, stop whying,” Jordan spat back at him.
“Yes you do, like this,” Nathaniel displayed, sticking his own tongue down to his chin.
Briskly coming to the rescue, Thomas stepped in between the two little boys, “Now men, we do not act like savages in this household, we are gents of fashion. Now, go back to the nursery and get ready for bed. I will be there in a moment to tuck you in.”
Gwendolyn rolled her eyes and got out of bed. “Oh Thomas, really, they’re too young to understand that low tone of voice of yours when you are trying to get your point across.”
“What low tone of voice?”
“That one,” she stated, pointing to his throat and then leaning into to him for a softhearted kiss.
Mary now ambled over and plopped her body onto a chair near the both of them. With a heavy sigh, she watched her two brothers’ stick their tongues out at each other once again before darting out of the room.
Thomas drew Millicent into him and kissed the back of her head before setting her down as well. She too, shot off and out of the room in a jiffy.
Gwendolyn walked over to her daughter’s side and knelt at the base of her legs. At sixteen, Mary Hollinger was, by far, an unparalleled stunning young maiden. With her father’s coloring, she inherited her mother’s façade and many young bachelors who asked about her daily eagerly anticipated her come-out.
Taking Philip from within her arms, Gwendolyn wrapped her finger around one of Mary’s long ebony tresses and curled her thumb around the ringlet and inquired, “What is the matter, love? You are wearing that look when you have lost a horse race.”
Mary suddenly buried her face within her hands. “Oh Mummie— Father, I’ve clapped eyes on someone and he acts like it does not matter!”
Thomas quickly met eyes with Gwendolyn, “She is sixteen Gwendolyn, do something!”
She watched him pace the floor out in front of them. “Thomas, stop panicking, we were young too. I think you were six when you fell in love with me.”
“So.”
“So,” Gwendolyn retorted giving him a condescending smirk and caressing her daughter’s back. “Why do you think he does not care, Mary? What does he do, or does not do when around you?”
“Like the other day, he was with a group of friends and I was with a group of friends and normally when I gaze at him, he is staring at me. He makes my legs go weak with his big brown eyes. Only this last time when I looked at hi
m, he pretended not to notice.”
Thomas took Philip away from Gwendolyn and laid him down on the bed. Instantly, the toddler rolled over onto his stomach and began to flap his legs and arms like a fish out of water. “The other day? Why Mary, we were at his majesty’s family affair, which boy are you interested in?”
Mary suddenly met eyes with her father. “Lord George Fitzclarence, Earl of Munster.”
“Fitzclarence! Of the Royal Family?” Gwendolyn shrieked, scaring her son on the bed.
The little guy looked up at Thomas with huge brown eyes, about to cry. “I know them. I do,” Thomas voiced, picking up the baby, cradling him in his arms and trying to compose him.
“Why, isn’t he at least twenty? Oh Thomas, this must be genuine. What do we do?” Gwendolyn asked, searching her daughter’s eyes for gravity.
“Oh now you want my advice, well, King George is quite mad I have heard I bet I could barter the union. I have business dealings with the Royal Navy.”
Gwendolyn tsked at him, “Oh no you are not! My daughter will be married for love, not through arrangement. If Lord Fitzclarence cares for Mary, then he will have to show purpose. I refuse to force my daughter—”
“Our daughter, Gwendolyn,” Thomas proudly interrupted her.
“Yes, our daughter Thomas, marry through orchestration.”
Mary crossed her arms in front of her, “I agree with Mummie.”
“You do?” Thomas asked suspiciously, arching a black brow.
“Yes, I do not want George’s forced attention; I want to know if his affection will be returned.”
Gwendolyn grinned and continued to rub Mary’s back. “Everyone does,” she relayed, getting back up on her feet, only to feel extremely queasy. Holding her hand over her mouth, Gwendolyn darted to the washbasin to vomit.
Mary sprung from her seat and replied, “Oh no, not again.”
Thomas stepped over to Gwendolyn and assisted her back to bed. Picking up his little one carefully, he laid his son back down onto his mother’s chest. Philip had fallen asleep. “Your mother and I love each other, Mary…children are the result of such a love.”
Mary rolled her eyes, “I seem to have the only parents in London who seem to exhibit their devotion. None of my friends have parents who still procreate.”
Thomas stood beside Gwendolyn and brushed away hair that mottled her face. When Gwendolyn glanced up at him, he traced his finger alongside her chin. Rallying her attention, he related, “And they won’t stop having them until Heaven replenishes their family. Right, Gwendolyn?”
Gwendolyn blinked back her tears, “I was just thinking the very same thing.”
Their eyes lock and hold.
“I love you,” he whispered to her.
“I know,” she whispered back smiling.
Thomas grinned into her jesting then swiftly turned around to address his daughter. He walked over to her sternly, but then reached for her embrace. Mary warmed up to him instantly and ran into his arms. “Now love, about you and Lord Fitzclarence…”
~~~~~
THE END
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Dare To Love Page 28