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The Locket [The Rotherham Hall Mysteries] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Page 10

by Clair de Lune


  The first waltz she danced with Rafael, who held her close and whispered words of love in her ears. The second she danced with Antonio and the third with Angel. They had to observe the proprieties, so both Antonio and Angel held her very correctly, and she promised them both that they would have a second waltz in their bedchambers later on to compensate. Both men looked delighted at the prospect.

  She was sad that she could not openly acknowledge them as she did Rafael, and when she had said as much before the ceremony they had put her mind at rest.

  “We have the rest of our lives to love you in our own way, and it will not help if everyone is suspicious. We are not jealous. We knew it would have to be this way. Do not feel sad or upset. We know you are our wife, and we know you love us as we love you. although the world cannot accept that we can.” Antonio said.

  She had shed tears at their loving words, and they had been more than delighted to comfort her.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Alicia’s pregnancy was not easy. It did, however, demonstrate to her how much she was loved and the differences in the brothersʼ temperaments and characters.

  Rafael took care that she ate well. He watched what she ate at every meal and urged her to finish her meals. If he was called away he would ask her, on his return, what she had eaten. If she was feeling squeamish, he would consult with Mrs Bridges on the best food to offer her to tempt her appetite. He had the head gardener bring her a posy of fresh, aromatic herbs every day. He saw that she spent some part of the day with her feet elevated, and he tried to make sure that nothing upset her or disturbed her peace.

  Antonio distracted her if she felt querulous, as she often did. He would bring the gig around to the front door, with a large cushion on the seat, and tuck a rug around her. He took her for slow, gentle drives around the estate. They called on some of their neighbours. What Alicia most enjoyed was to go and visit their tenant farmers and their families. She was soon well-known to them all. Antonio brought the colour back to her cheeks with his jaunts in the fresh air and his amusing stories about the people they had met. He charmed her out of the sullens, and invariably she returned in a more positive frame of mind than when she set out.

  Angel saw to her physical comfort. He would help her upstairs for her afternoon nap. Settling her on the bed, he would place a cushion under her knees to make her comfortable. If her swollen ankles bothered her, he would take them in his strong fingers and gently stroke and massage them. He watched her as she drifted off to sleep and remained by her until she awoke. Then he would ring the bell for the soothing tisane that Rafael and Mrs Bridges thought was so good for her.

  The last two months were the worst. She was huge, and she had a rendency to topple over. She was very upset because of her size. Her three men never lost patience with her. They put up with all her crochets and limited themselves to repeating that they loved her to distraction, no matter what size she was.

  She came to realise that the ménage she had doubted was a great success. She was never left alone to mope. She had three very different men to cater to her every need. They had resolved each difficulty as it had occurred. They had set aside two rooms for her use, in case she preferred to spend a night alone. They were tastefully decorated in the blue and gold she loved. The furniture was antique rosewood. She had once expressed a preference for rosewood, and Angel, with his many contacts in the capital, had sought out and bought a beautiful bureau and a couple of chests. The small sitting room they had set aside for her use had comfortable chairs and a large day-bed. Antonio had filled several shelves with the novels she loved to read. Rafael had planned the rooms and had them decorated to her taste.

  She well remembered the day the rooms had been ready for her use. All three of them had taken her to see the rooms and, as she looked at their faces, she saw how much love had gone into the preparing of rooms and contents. She saw they were anxious to know if she liked what they had done. She kissed each man in turn and thanked them all warmly, telling them it was the best gift anyone had ever given her. They knew her well, and each in his own way had done what he could to ensure her happiness and comfort. Every doubt she ever had vanished like the mist on an English summer morning.

  Epilogue

  Alicia de la Torre y Saavedra was safely delivered of triplets seven and a half months later.

  The midwife was outraged that all three brothers, not just the husband and father but his brothers as well, insisted on being present at the birth. She would tell her cronies all that later, but not by word or expression did she betray her disapprobation to the brothers or the doctor, who was also present at the brothers’ insistence.

  Bessie, who was with her mistress through the labour, would tell a different story about the three but only to Jennings, who was sworn to secrecy. He would tell nobody. His loyalty to the family and his hopes of Bessie in his future would ensure that. She informed him of the touching scene when all three men were handed a babe to hold. They had kissed the infants with tears in their eyes and then, returning the babes to their nurses, they had gone over to where her darling Lady Alicia lay exhausted. Taking her hand one after the other they had kissed her fingers and thanked her. They had been unashamed that the tears flowed freely. Alicia had three baby boys with black hair and big, dark eyes just like their fathers. The succession of the de la Torre y Saavedra house was thus ensured. The news had been sent to the Morning Post and, by courier, to the senior branch of the family in Andalucía, in Spain.

  Alicia had a wet nurse, a very respectable niece of Mrs Bridges. Alicia had had no choice, for she would have preferred to suckle her babes herself without any help. The local surgeon suspected, given the family history and the size of his patient’s swollen abdomen, that there might be more than one baby, so they had prepared accordingly. Alicia still insisted on feeding the infants herself as much as she could, and the feeding times brought all three large men into the nursery to help hold one or other babe while she suckled first one then the other two, after a while handing them over to the wet nurse so as to ensure they had their fill. The brothers were delighted to see their babes suckling at their mother’s breast, and the infants were thriving. Not only their parents but also their grandparents doted upon them, and Alicia was so happy. She had doubted a ménage could work, but time had proven her wrong. Her three men were all she could wish for, and all the doubts and fears borne of her previous marriage were forgotten, consigned to the past as she looked towards the future with her two sets of triplets.

  THE END

  WWW.CLAIRDELUNEBOOKS.CO.UK

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Clair was born in South Yorkshire in England and moved to southwest Scotland more than twenty years ago. She retired from teaching a few years ago and spent her time reading, sewing, cooking and gardening. She decided that there ought to be more to retirement than that.

  Reading has always played a large part in her life, and the house is full of books. Her youngest son challenged her to write a novel of her own, and Initiation, book one in the Prometheus in Chains series, was the result.

  Having always had an interest in the Regency period of English history, it was only a matter of time before she turned to writing about the period. The Locket, first in the Rotherham Hall Mysteries, was the result.

  She found that writing suddenly took over her life. Now, with a head full of Doms and subs, she has to spend a few hours a day writing or researching. Retirement has certainly delivered a lot more.

  She still likes to sit out in the garden, weather permitting, listening to the birds singing, either engaged in some appliqué project or thinking through some aspect of plot or character. She goes nowhere without a pencil and notebook, and her poor long suffering husband has got used to having to sit in the car with her to wait until the notes are finished before they can go get the shopping.

  She believes the world has enough sadness in it and her characters will always get their HEA even if the road is rocky.

  Clair would l
ove to hear from you:

  clairdelune4542@yahoo.co.uk

  http://clairdelunebooks.co.uk/

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/clair.delune.71653

  Twitter: ClairdLunebooks

  For all titles by Clair de Lune, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/clair-de-lune

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

 

 

 


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