“I’ll just let her know you’re here.”
Dr. Havish frowned. “She isn’t expecting me?”
“I thought it best not to tell her. She insists she’s well, but I want to be sure there’s nothing amiss.”
The doctor shrugged his rounded shoulders and Dev knocked on the door. It was quickly opened by Alice Cartwright, who couldn’t look more surprised if the prince regent had come to call.
“Is my wife awake?” Dev asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” he said, walking past the maid into the bedroom.
Thea sat near the hearth, dressed in one of her pretty new dresses, with her hair loose about her shoulders. She looked lovely and rather fragile, and he desperately hoped everyone who told him not to worry was right.
“I’ve sent for the doctor to make sure you’re quite well,” he said without preamble and regardless of the presence of her maid. “He’s waiting outside.”
He expected her to say that she was quite all right, that she didn’t need a doctor and he should send the man away.
Instead she nodded. “Very well.”
She wasn’t going to argue or refuse? Did that mean she wasn’t feeling well? That something really was wrong?
He hurried out of the bedroom and bade the doctor enter.
* * *
It felt like a hundred years had passed before the door to Thea’s bedroom opened and her maid appeared. “Dr. Havish says you may come in now, Sir Develin.”
He immediately strode into the room. Momentarily ignoring the doctor and the maid, he focused his attention on Thea now lying under the bedcovers, her expression serene—which was not, in itself, reassuring. He could well believe she could look calm and composed even if she was sitting on a bed of nails.
“There’s nothing to be alarmed about, Sir Develin,” the doctor said before Dev could speak. “Your wife’s a little worn out, as you said, but all should be well provided she rests and is kept free from worry. And she should have some strong broth every afternoon.”
Dev let out his breath. He had never felt so relieved in his life. “Of course, Doctor.”
“Good.” The older man smiled and picked up his medical bag. “You heard me, I trust, my lady,” he said to Thea. “Rest and no worry.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she replied with a meekness that shocked Dev. If Dr. Havish hadn’t said she was all right, he would have suspected her response was a sign of serious illness.
“Good day, Sir Develin, my lady,” the doctor said, nodding at them both. “Don’t hesitate to summon me again should you have any concerns.”
“I will, Dr. Havish,” Thea said, still serene. She then addressed her maid. “Please show the doctor out.”
The young woman did as she was asked, leaving Dev and Thea alone.
Dev spoke at once. “I’m sorry if you’re upset that I sent for Dr. Havish,” he said sincerely. “I wanted to make sure you aren’t ill.”
She smiled then, a sight that was almost as much of a relief as the doctor’s assurance. “I’m glad you sent for the doctor. I thought everything was all right, but it’s a relief to know for certain.”
Dev approached the bed. “If I’d known you were with child earlier, I wouldn’t have gone to London.”
“I thought it was too early to be certain,” she explained.
She toyed with the edge of the silk coverlet and regarded him with a remorseful look that went straight to his heart. “I wish you’d told me about my father.”
“I had no certain information and wanted to ascertain his whereabouts before I suggested he wasn’t on the ship,” he replied. “I truly wanted to spare you any unnecessary concern.”
She sighed heavily. “It seems as if I’ve been worrying about my father most of my life.”
He sat on the bed and gently took her hand in his. “I’ll make sure that Roger’s men continue to try to locate your father. In the meantime, you must rest and try not to worry.”
“That won’t be easy, I’m afraid,” Thea noted with another sigh, “but I’ll try.”
“Dear me, I hope I’m not intruding!”
Regardless of her declaration, Lady Gladys came hurtling into the bedroom. As always, she was dressed in a fashionable outfit, this one an emerald-green velvet riding habit with a wide skirt looped up to enable her to walk without tripping. Almost. She caught her foot on the edge of the carpet, then righted herself with practiced ease. At nearly the same time, she swept the long veil of her hat away from her face with the back of her gloved hand.
“I came for a visit and met Dr. Havish leaving,” she continued. “He tells me you’re not sick, which I assure you was a vast relief after the fright seeing him gave me. And then he said you’d been away. Another shock, I must say. I had no idea you’d gone anywhere, and in your condition, too!”
Dev frowned and got to his feet. “Did everybody know except me?”
“Of course not!” Gladys hurriedly replied. “We were only guessing until Dr. Havish confirmed it just now. I asked him, of course, and practically had to pry it out of him. Fortunately the good man realizes Mater would worry him to death unless he told me why you’d summoned him, so he revealed all—in strictest confidence, naturally. We’re not even to tell Papa, although Mater already told him what we suspected. Still, I’ll do my best.”
“I think my wife should rest now, Gladys, if you don’t mind,” Dev said kindly, but firmly, too.
“Quite right and you must forgive me for barging in here like a battering ram and although your maid—who can be quite fierce, I must say!—did her best, and Mrs. Wessex, too, I simply had to see for myself that Thea was well or Mater wouldn’t have believed me and she likely would have come roaring over here like Boudica with potions and lotions and who knows what. Leeches wouldn’t surprise.” Gladys’s eyes sparkled behind her spectacles and she triumphantly concluded, “So I’ve really done you a service!”
“For which we are eternally grateful,” Dev said, guiding her to the door as if he was a sheep dog and she an errant lamb. “Give your parents our best.”
“I’ll come for a visit soon!” Thea called after them.
“I’m seriously considering putting a large lock on that door,” Dev muttered as he came back into the room after Gladys had gone and closed the door.
“She means well,” Thea said, getting out of the bed and drawing on the bedrobe that had been laid across the bottom of it.
“You shouldn’t be up!”
“I’m not an invalid,” she replied with the resolve that was so much a part of her nature. “As long as I rest, I’ll be fine and the baby, too, and I have a host of servants to help me.”
He supposed it would be useless to argue with her any further, but there was something else he was prepared to take a stand on. “We cannot have the ball.”
She stared at him as if he’d suggested cutting off a limb. “We must!”
“No. It’ll be too much for you.”
“I think I should be the judge of that. Mrs. Wessex and I have already made most of the arrangements.”
“But there’s always a lot to consider as the day draws near—how many will really attend, will the food and drink be adequate, will it rain?” His mouth a hard line of determination, he shook his head. “No, Thea, there will be no ball at Dundrake Hall while you’re with child.”
Thea’s expression was no less determined. “Planning a ball with the help of an army of servants is a lot less trouble than wondering where your next meal is coming from or how you’re going to pay the rent. And we must have the ball. I’ve told you why it’s important, and it still is. I can rest in the afternoons every day.”
“I don’t give a damn about a ball! I care about you.”
Thea’s expression gentled, reminding him of the first
night they’d been married, when she seemed so innocent and vulnerable. “I care about you, too, and that’s the main reason to have this ball, so you don’t lose your place in society because you married me.”
Thrilled to hear she cared and, somewhat mollified, he said, “We can have a ball after the baby’s born.”
She gave him a wry smile. “When you think I’ll have less to do? Or more vitality?”
She did have a point, although... “But the doctor—”
“I’ll take care, Dev,” she assured him. “After all, I want to have your baby. I want that very much.”
“You do? You aren’t worried...?” He paused, then voiced the concern he’d been harboring since he learned she was pregnant. “You aren’t worried I’ll be like my father?”
Looking up into her husband’s dark brown eyes, Thea put her hands lightly on his shoulders and said, “Not for a moment.”
It was as if something leaden had fallen from his chest for the first time since he learned about the baby.
As if he were completely free.
Because of her.
“I love you, Thea,” he said softly and with all the sincerity of complete truth, “more than I’ve ever loved anyone or thought I would or could. I love you with all my heart, poor gift that it is. Call me what you will—a liar, a cheat, a scoundrel, a dishonorable rogue—and you’d be right. But one thing prevents me from being completely sorry for all that I’ve done. It brought you to me, Thea. You’re like a clean page in a book yet to be written. You’ve given me hope that I can be a better man and that I can have the one thing I’ve never had before—a loving family, provided you can forgive your stubborn, arrogant oaf of a husband, and give me another chance.”
Thea studied the handsome face of the man before her. How many times had she heard her father say he only needed one more chance to make good? To return their family to its former glory, or at least provide a decent meal?
But always she had seen the greedy gleam lurking in his eyes that told her the urge to gamble still held sway over him. Today, here, when she looked into her husband’s eyes, she saw only his longing and his love, and knew that all her hopeful wishes had come true. “I love you, Dev, with all my heart. Nor am I an angel who has done no wrong. I, too, lied like any dishonest rogue, but I saw no other way to get close to you.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ve wanted to be your wife since I saw you leaving a gambling hell with some of your friends six months ago.”
“Six months ago?”
She nodded. “There was a poor flower seller nearby and you bought a nosegay from her, paying more than she asked. One of your friends sneered at you for a fool and another said you should save your money for brandy or cheroots, but you merely smiled. I fell in love with you that night, I think, and I’ve been in love with you ever since. So you see, it wasn’t only out of necessity that I came to you.”
“I’m so very glad you did,” he whispered before he pulled her close and kissed her. Tenderly. Ardently.
She responded in kind, then with increasing passion, until he broke the kiss.
“You’ve been standing long enough,” he said, sitting on a chair near the hearth and drawing her down upon his lap. Toying with a lock of her thick hair, he stared at the fire in the hearth and spoke without looking at her, his voice soft and low. “I want to tell you why I tried to ignore my feelings for you for so long, even when they would have brought me joy.”
He glanced at her and, when she nodded, continued. “One day when I was very young, I heard my parents arguing. It was a terrible quarrel, with bitter accusations on my mother’s part and cold, stern disapproval on his. I learned then that my father had never loved my mother and never would, and more besides that made me despise him. That was the beginning of the end for my mother, too, I think. She began to drink more and more wine every day until it killed her. That quarrel didn’t just destroy her and any affection I had for my father. It made something else die in me, too—the notion that there was such a thing as true and lasting love.”
He looked at Thea with sorrow in his dark eyes. “I’ve felt lust plenty of times and I’ve made friends, but love?” He shook his head. “I decided that was a lie concocted by romantic fools and believed it until the day you came here. That was the beginning of a new lesson for me—that there is such a thing as sincere, lasting love and that I could share it.
“But oh, Thea,” he went on with a ragged sigh, “you brought shame with you, too. You were like my sin made flesh, come to chastise me as I deserved to be chastised because I cheated when I played that game with your father. Not to win all his money to break him or because I was greedy, but because I was so proud and arrogant and—of all the poor excuses!—I had friends waiting for me elsewhere. But when I suggested ending the game, he derided me for a coward and poor loser. Even before I knew what losing had meant to you and your father, I decided to end it another way and took the opportunity during a break in the game to mark a deck. It was stupid and reckless, especially when he didn’t stop, not even when he had to borrow more to play. Eventually I realized to my shame that the vice had a stronger hold on him than I suspected and I finally walked away. But by then, the damage had been done. I’m truly sorry, Thea, that I didn’t stop playing sooner and that I acted with dishonor. No guilt, no remorse, can erase what I did. Can you ever forgive me?”
How could she not? And not only because he asked her. She was hardly blameless herself. “Of course I do, and I hope you’ll forgive me for the lies I told and the way I deceived you.”
“Gladly, Thea, gladly!”
With love in his eyes, Dev smiled and held her close. “However it happened, we’re together now, and I promise to love you and be faithful to you for the rest of my life.”
“As I pledge the same to you,” she vowed.
They kissed again, their desire blossoming, their need growing as they held each other.
After another few moments, Dev carried his wife to bed, where neither of them rested, or at least not for a while.
* * *
Sometime later, as Thea and Dev lay in each other’s arms, naked and blissfully satisfied, Thea nestled against her husband and studied his handsome profile. She thought of his father, and how that man’s harsh features had been softened somewhat in his son. She was sure Dev’s nature was kinder and gentler, too, and she’d meant what she’d said about Dev being a good father.
But Dev was not the only man who looked like the late, stern baronet, and thoughts of children brought that other man to mind. “Dev,” she ventured, running her fingertip around his ear, “I want to ask you something.”
Smiling, he turned his head to look at her and raised a dark, inquisitive eyebrow.
“Is Mr. Bessborough any relation to you?”
He made no effort to hide his surprise. “What makes you ask that?”
“You look rather alike. He even sounds like you sometimes, although the way he speaks makes me believe he’s not of the same rank. I could believe he was your father’s by-blow, though.”
“He is,” her husband admitted. “Roger Bessborough is my illegitimate half brother. But you’re the only one other than Roger who knows that.”
“Other people haven’t seen you together and wondered?”
He shook his head. “We aren’t usually seen together. More important, though, it’s Roger’s wish that the true nature of our relationship be kept confidential. He fears he’ll lose clients if they discover the circumstances of his birth.”
“Perhaps. On the other hand, being the son of a baronet, even an illegitimate one, could be seen as impressive and therefore beneficial. He may find he has more clients among the merchants and businessmen of the city who are not members of the ton.”
“He also keeps the secret for his mother’s sake. The end of her life was neither an easy nor a virtu
ous one.”
That was an explanation Thea could better understand, and her sympathy for the stern solicitor increased. “How long have you known about him?”
“Since I was five years old and heard my mother cast it up to my father. He didn’t even try to deny it. Indeed he used it as a weapon against her, saying it proved that the lack of children after me had to be her fault, not his.”
How difficult that must have been for a boy to hear! “I’m so sorry, Develin!”
“Roger’s the only bastard I’m aware of. I think if there’d been others, I would have heard that, too.”
“At least your father looked out for him and found him a profession.”
Develin gave a scornful laugh. “That wasn’t my father’s doing. He abandoned Roger and his mother when Roger was a baby. She’d been a servant, so she had no education, and she had no family or friends to help her, either. I suppose I don’t have to tell you what that means, or that she died young because of it.”
Thea had encountered many women in similar circumstances and knew that often even the pretty ones raised in prosperous homes eventually wound up walking the streets and drowning their shame and sorrow in gin shops, or the nearest river. “No, you don’t have to tell me.”
“When I was sixteen,” Dev continued, “I searched for Roger and found him working in a smithy. He didn’t want to listen to me at first, until I pointed out I had no reason to lie about who I was or why I wanted to help him. I offered to pay for his education, such as I could afford, and later found a solicitor for him to clerk under after Roger said he’d like to study the law. I never told my father what I was doing with my money. As far as he was concerned, I was wasting all my pocket money on wine, women and song.”
“And your relationship with your father suffered accordingly.”
“By that time I had no relationship with my father, other than to consider him a sort of bank from which to withdraw funds.”
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