by Lauren Royal
“Oh, no.” Jason pulled a ring from his mouth, rolling his eyes as he licked it clean. “This should be Kendra’s, surely.”
They all laughed again.
“What does it mean?” Amy asked.
“It’s a sign of marriage,” Kendra explained. “Ah, the thimble!” She placed it on a fingertip, flashing an angelic smile. “A life of blessedness.”
“When are you joining the convent?” Ford chortled.
He had to duck to avoid the flying thimble.
Colin snorted. “Well, so much for the tokens.”
“Thank heavens.” Amy set down her bowl.
Kendra glanced up. “Aren’t you going to finish it?”
Amy shook her head. “I’ve had enough,” she said quietly. “I’m really not feeling too well.” She threw Kendra a surreptitious wink, then turned to Colin. “I think I should go to bed.”
He shot up at once and placed a hand on her forehead. “You’re not feverish,” he reported, visibly relieved. “But if you feel ill, then of course we must go to bed.”
“But the games…” Ford protested.
“What games?” Amy asked innocently, finishing with a weak cough for effect.
“We always play games on Christmas Eve, charades and the like, until the wee hours.” Grasping her hand, Colin pulled her up and put a protective arm around her. “But that was before one of us was married. Besides, your health is more important.”
He started moving her toward the door.
“You must stay and play, Colin. It’s only fatigue, I’m certain, and overeating and a bit too much buttered ale—though it was all delicious.” Amy sighed prettily and placed a delicate hand on her abdomen.
Unfortunately, Colin proved to be overly solicitous. The best they could do was convince him to see her to bed and then return for the games.
He undressed her himself, pulled one of her new nightgowns over her head, then stood back to judge the effect.
He gave a low whistle. “Are you certain you’re ill, love?”
“Quite certain.” She forced another cough and clutched at her stomach. “Leave now, please, before I embarrass myself in front of you.” She climbed into the bed, moaning softly to demonstrate her illness. “Could you put the chamber pot beside me before you go?”
“Sickness is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured her. With a small thud, he deposited the chamber pot on the bedside table. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“I’m positively sure. Go enjoy the games.” When he hesitated as though not quite convinced, she added, “If you’ll but let me rest, Colin, alone, when you return in a few hours I’m certain to be feeling better.”
“Well…”
“Much better,” she repeated meaningfully.
She watched his eyes light up before she rolled away with a groan and pulled the covers over her head.
SIXTY-EIGHT
HALF AN HOUR after the charades game began, Colin and his siblings were interrupted by the head butler announcing the unexpected delivery of a crate. They all hurried to the stone hall to see what it might be.
The crate was enormous, standing taller than Colin himself, and his name was scrawled across the front. There was no indication of where or whom it had come from.
“Do you suppose it’s a wedding gift?” he asked, coming up to stand beside it.
“Open it and see,” Jason suggested.
The buoyancy in his voice had Colin turning to him sharply. “It’s from you, then?”
“I didn’t say that. Just open it.”
“It must be furniture. A nice thought, Jason, but much too generous—and besides, I have no place to put anything yet.”
Jason laughed. “Look, it’s not from me. Just open it.”
Colin considered. “Very well, but Amy should be here. Perhaps she’s feeling better now. I’ll just go and check.”
“Let her sleep,” Kendra said. “She felt beastly. Checking might wake her, and you mustn’t do that.”
“I’m not sure what to do, then.” Colin twisted his signet ring on his finger. “I expect this can wait until morning.”
“It’s addressed to you, not Amy,” Kendra said. “She can see it in the morning. Open it, please—or I’ll do it for you. I want to see what’s inside.”
“Well…”
“I’ll fetch some tools,” Ford offered, rushing off before Colin could protest.
Not that he really wanted to—he was at least as curious as Kendra.
A minute later, Ford was back, and together they pried off the front of the crate—only to find another box enclosed inside. They pulled the remaining three sides of the crate apart, but there was still no clue to the contents. The new box was unmarked.
“It must be fragile,” Colin remarked uncertainly. “Let’s be more careful opening this one.”
The second box revealed nothing more than a slightly smaller version of itself hidden inside.
He threw his siblings a sidelong glance and silently set to opening it. When a fourth featureless box was revealed, he grinned at the profusion of lumber littering the hall. “What on earth is going on here?”
“I’m sure we don’t know,” Kendra protested.
“We were just minding our own business, playing charades,” Ford offered.
“Just open it,” Jason said.
Colin shrugged, trying to hide a smile. He loved a joke played on himself almost as much as being the perpetrator of one. “I think I’ll wait until morning, after all,” he said blandly, turning to leave.
Kendra lunged at him, tugging on his shirt. “Colin Chase, you open that box right now. I’m—I’m dying of curiosity.”
He turned back and fixed her with an innocent look. “Well, then, I suppose I must. I wouldn’t want you to die on account of me.”
They laughed as he pulled the box apart, and he was not at all surprised to find a fifth box inside. This one had a sign on it, though, spelling out the words CONTAINS THE EARL OF GREYSTONE in neat block letters.
“It should say ‘Contents for the Earl of Greystone,’” he pointed out. “Somebody doesn’t know how to spell.”
His siblings shrugged.
“It cannot contain the Earl of Greystone,” he insisted, staring at their blank faces. “I’m the Earl of Greystone, and I’m quite obviously not in that box. I’m not certain I would even fit,” he added as an afterthought.
A cough came from within the box.
Colin swung around. “What the deuce…”
The top was hinged. He threw it open. Amy slowly rose, completely captivating in a soft peach gown, a dazzling smile on her lips and in her eyes.
“You! Uh—aren’t you ill?” Colin sputtered.
“Do I look ill?”
“No. And you don’t look like the Earl of Greystone, either.”
Laughter came from behind him, and he turned, confused. Kendra tilted her head. “Don’t you like your Christmas present, Colin?”
A grin of amusement twitched on his lips as he turned back to Amy. “You’re lovely, but you’re not a present, love. I have you already.” He grasped her under her arms, effortlessly lifting her out of the box. “It was a good trick, though,” he conceded as he set her on her feet. “Even if the sign was spelled wrong.”
“No, it was spelled correctly,” Amy said.
He remained silent, his brows drawn together in puzzlement.
“The box contains the next Earl of Greystone.”
Colin could sense all their eyes on him, but his brain refused to work. His head felt completely blank. He leaned over a little, gazing into the empty box.
“It contained the next Earl of Greystone, I mean,” Amy clarified. “He’s not inside the box anymore.”
Colin blinked stupidly.
“You’ll have to wait to see him, though—about seven and a half months, I suspect.”
His heart faltered in his chest.
“He’s inside me, Colin,” she finished softly.
> His mouth opened, closed, then he let forth a whoop of joy as he swept her up and swung her around and around in a wide circle. Jason and Ford both laughed, while tears brightened Kendra’s eyes.
Suddenly, Colin stopped and set Amy down with exquisite care. “Have I hurt you?” he asked earnestly. “Either of you?”
“No, we’re not that fragile. Though it’s a good thing I don’t seem prone to morning sickness.”
Ford snorted. “You’d have got it straight in your face, I expect.”
“Ford!” Jason and Kendra shouted together.
“Forgive him,” Jason continued to Amy. “He’s hopelessly uncivilized.”
“I think he’s funny,” Amy declared between giggles. “And quite handsome, besides.”
Ford’s neck turned red.
“Well, Colin, I reckon the honeymoon is over.” Jason’s smile belied the seriousness of his tone.
“Come again?”
“She played a joke on you. She’s challenging your virtuosity as a prankster already.”
Colin looked at his bride, his heart swelling with emotion. “Au contraire,” he said slowly. “The honeymoon is only beginning.” He swept her up, bearing her slight weight as one would a sleeping child, his arms beneath her shoulders and knees. Cradling her against his upper body, he strode toward the staircase
“Wait!” Kendra shouted. “The games!”
“Go ahead, children,” Colin called over his shoulder. “We have our own games to play.”
“Colin!” Amy chided, shocked at his indelicacy. But she kept laughing all the way up the stairs.
SIXTY-NINE
COLIN KICKED the door closed behind them and gently deposited Amy on the bed. The sudden apprehension in her eyes made his gut clench.
“Are you truly pleased?” she asked in a small voice. “I mean, it’s so soon…and maybe I should have told you first, privately…”
She looked away, staring up at the underside of the canopy.
“Oh, love, how could you doubt me so?” He lowered himself to the bed and turned her face toward him with a fingertip. “A babe…a family…”
Amy’s breath rushed out, and she offered him a shaky smile. “A son,” she said. “I don’t know why, but I’m sure of it, Colin.”
He didn’t care whether she carried a son or a daughter. Either way, his throat tightened as he thought of their child growing within her. “A son,” he echoed, suppressing a chuckle. “How long have you known?”
Her fingers toyed with a lock of her hair. “I think it must have happened the very first time, on our wedding night.”
“But you said nothing until now.”
“It’s been too soon to tell till now, only six weeks,” she defended herself. “Besides, I wasn’t sure you’d be happy. Our wedding happened so quickly, and now this…”
Colin suspected she was thinking they hadn’t been meant to wed. He’d manipulated her by bringing Robert’s threat into the equation. And look where it had landed him: He was happy beyond belief, but those days were numbered. A year—one precious year—until that buzzard’s debt was due.
He laced his fingers with hers. He’d been right all along: marrying for love was irrational. A mistake. But one he couldn’t bring himself to be sorry for—yet.
“Go on,” he said, squeezing her hand.
She took a deep breath. “When I became convinced—and don’t ask me how, I just know—I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t sure whether you’d be pleased.” She bit her lip. “But I wanted to give you a Christmas present, and this was all I had.” Her mouth curved in a tiny smile. “Since you won’t take my diamonds and gold.”
“My Amethyst is the most precious gem of all,” Colin teased. “Why would I want any others when they all pale in comparison?” He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips.
“Then you’re really, truly pleased? You’re not vexed we conceived so soon? Because, heaven forgive me, I cannot find it in me to be sorry. I want your son more than anything in the world,” she finished on a sigh.
What had he done to deserve her? And how—heavens, how—could he manage to keep his promise and save Greystone, too?
And her amethyst eyes still radiated worry. “I’m more than pleased,” he assured her. “I’m overjoyed…delighted…enchanted…elated…” A kiss punctuated each word, and his voice grew rough. “Ecstatic…intoxicated…”
“That’s the buttered ale, I think.” She giggled.
“No, it’s you,” he protested.
She blushed and cleared her throat. “Well, now that you’ve relieved my fears, we may as well go join in the games.”
Colin laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Not yet,” he said flatly, one arm coming around to hold her hostage.
“But I’ve never before had a large family to play games with.”
He nuzzled her neck, smiling when he felt her pulse speed up.
“I-I was so looking forward to it,” she stammered out.
He kissed a trail to her ear. “First, I would meet my child.”
“Your son. But he won’t be arriving for many months.”
“That doesn’t signify. I shall meet him anyway.”
His heart soared with anticipation. Though he hoped he’d never be forced to spend her inheritance, now, thanks to this miracle, he’d have something to bind her to his side. Their baby…surely she’d stay with him always for the sake of their child, even if he lost Greystone or depleted her gold in saving it.
He was so lucky to have her. He leaned over her, running his fingers through her dark tresses and arranging them artistically on the pillows. Criminy, she was beautiful. He smiled down at his handiwork. “Ahh,” he said with a long, drawn-out sigh of contentment, running his hands down her sides to span her waist. “I haven’t been able to touch you properly since morning.”
“Improperly, you mean.” Amy giggled, feeling light-hearted for the first time since she’d realized she was pregnant.
He smiled, that mischievous grin that made her heart flip-flop. “It’s deucedly inconvenient having the family around.” His stern voice didn’t fool her. “I warned you.”
She lifted her head for a kiss, but he seemed to have other plans. His hands were skimming over her hips now. “It has its compensations,” she said, watching the firelight play over his perfect features.
“Such as?”
“Such as…” She felt him inching her skirts up, making concentration difficult. “They’re quite helpful with practical joke arrangements.”
“I see.”
He inched them up more. “They…make interesting supper conversation,” she managed to say.
“Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
With sudden impatience, he hurried her out of her dress, and their inane discussion came to an abrupt end.
When his lips finally met hers, her heart swelled with emotion. But not as much as when he glided down, until his scratchy chin and cheek grazed against her smooth belly.
“Are you in there, little one?” His voice vibrated into her body. “It’s your father.” His lips moved against her stomach, his breath warm.
Her hands reached down to tug insistently at his shoulders.
“Your mother wants me now,” Colin gloated, throwing Amy a roguish look. “But first I want to say…we love you.”
“Colin…”
“Good-bye for now,” Colin murmured, pressing a final kiss to her stomach. “We’ll talk again soon.”
He lifted his head, and she knew right then that they wouldn’t be joining his family for games that night. The eyes that blazed into hers were a deep, fathomless green, overflowing with more love than words could ever convey. Everything between Colin and herself seemed incredibly perfect, as though they belonged together, each and every minute particle of their bodies and souls.
No matter that her head sometimes told her otherwise, her heart had always known they were meant to be.
SEVENTY
&nb
sp; Six months later
June 1667
COLIN SLID his knife under the red seal and scanned the brief missive.
A pox on him.
Rubbing his temples, he dropped the vellum letter atop the ledgers and journals that covered the scarred wooden surface of his desk—ledgers and journals he’d be forced to abandon for the next few days. Beyond the castle walls, he imagined the rolling land, freshly green with the first new shoots from spring planting. Although it was all too far away to hear, he’d swear he could make out the bleat of distant sheep, the dull thud of a log being felled, the vague bangs and scrapes of quarrying—all work he was loath to let continue without his supervision.
The estate needed his attention too, curse it.
The year was halfway over, and he’d saved nowhere near half of his debt to Hobbs.
THE DOOR cracked open. “Are you napping, my lady?”
“Hah.” Amy looked up from her book as her buxom blond maid stepped inside. “I wish. I’m so big and itchy, I cannot find a good position no matter how many I try.”
As though he’d heard her complaint, her son swished in her womb, poking out fists, knees, elbows, and feet all at once, it seemed.
Lydia’s kittenish blue eyes narrowed as she contemplated the rolling lumps on her mistress’s abdomen. “Lud, that looks uncomfortable.”
Amy laughed and set the book aside. “Sometimes I’m convinced I’m carrying a human octopus, or at the very least an accomplished acrobat.” She pushed herself to stand. “Did you need me for something?”
“The lord said he has a matter to discuss. He waits in the study.” Frowning, Lydia flipped through the gowns in Amy’s wardrobe. “Cuds bobs, milady, you’ve got nothing decent to wear that will fit over your belly.”
“I needn’t dress up to visit with my husband!” Giggling, Amy went next door to see him in the study.
She quieted as she drew near. The door was ajar, and she could hear Benchley’s voice. “Fernew was asking when the new thresher will arrive.”