by Wendy Vella
“But how do you know? How can you be so calm?”
His arms held her tight, pressed into the hard planes of his chest.
“Essie, you will do what must be done with your usual competency, and these children, our nieces or nephews, will arrive on this earth healthy and strong.”
“I’m scared, Max.”
“Which is entirely natural,” he assured her. “But I am here with you, so you have no need to fear.”
And it was true. She was stronger when he was near. He was so much a part of her now, she could not imagine life without this man she had married.
The castle was in mayhem when they arrived. The mothers, thankfully, had been placed in rooms adjacent to each other. The fathers were pacing the hall between. Cam looked harassed.
“About bloody time you got here!” Dev roared at her, and she knew it was worry speaking.
“That will do, Dev. Essie is here now, and all will go well. But it will be even better if you stop roaring loud enough that Lilly and Eden can hear,” Max said calmly. “Now go and see to the mothers, my love, and I will tend these idiots.”
“I am to be a father, Max.”
“I know you are, brother, but not for a few hours, I think.”
She opened the door to the first bedroom on Max’s words, a small smile on her face.
Many hours later, as the sun rose on Raven Mountain to mark the dawn of a new day, Max gathered his tired wife in his arms and carried her to the room the butler had made up for him.
“A niece and a nephew. But you knew that, didn’t you, Mrs. Huntington?”
“Yes, and they are adorable, Max.”
He privately thought they looked like wrinkled prunes, but he had not been able to mistake the jolt of delight that they would now be part of his life, and this wonderful family he had married into, as he had caught his first look at the babies.
“Isabella was my mother’s name. Eden has always wanted her daughter to be named after her.”
“And Lilly named her son, Charles, after her father.”
Max could hear the tiredness in Essie’s words. Dark smudges marked her skin beneath bloodshot eyes. She was exhausted. Lowering her to her feet, he stripped off her clothes and pulled back the blankets.
“I need to wash.”
“Tomorrow is soon enough.” He urged her onto the bed. Removing his clothes, he soon followed. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her tight into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, wife.”
“Eden and Lilly did the work, I merely assisted.”
She never took compliments well, but Max was working on that. Just as she was working on him.
“Max?”
“Hmmm?” Sleep was pulling him under.
“I want a baby.”
He smiled into her hair as his hand moved to her stomach.
“Me too.”
“Thank you for your strength,” she whispered. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Closing his eyes, Max fell asleep as he did every night, with everything he wanted and needed in his arms.
THE END
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Thanks so much for reading Touched By Danger, book #3 in The Sinclair and Raven series.
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LORD GALLANT- available now
“So you have returned.”
Grace had been shaking out her skirts, but her hands stilled as she looked to the top of the stairs, where her husband stood glowering down at her.
“Good afternoon, my Lord.” She curtseyed.
“I wish to speak with you, now, Grace. Please come to my study at once.”
He did not wait for her reply, just walked away.
“I-I, um, is there a problem?” Grace looked at Vidal, who was giving her a sympathetic look.
“I believe Lord Attwood was unaware you were leaving the house this morning, my Lady,” Vidal said.
“Oh dear.” Would he stop her from leaving the house now? She should have spoken to him this morning and told him she was to go and see Harry, and would do so most days.
“Sh-should I change first, Vidal?” Grace said, looking down at her damp muddy hem.
“I would not advise it, my Lady,” Vidal said gently. “I shall bring a tea tray to the earl’s study shortly. It is situated up the stairs and three doors along on the right hand side.”
“All right. Thank you, Vidal.”
Grace started up the stairs and made her way down the hall with her heart thumping heavily in her chest. She knocked on the door.
“Enter!”
The word was barked, so Grace took a deep breath and then opened the door to walk inside.
“Shut it, please, Grace.” He rose briefly, and motioned her to a chair before his desk.
“I-I will stand, my Lord, as my skirts are damp.”
“You will sit,” he said in a clipped tone, so she did, as he did not appear to be in a negotiating mood.
He did not wear a jacket, only shirtsleeves, and this was the first time she had seen him dressed that way. It made him look softer. Of course this was not the case, yet he did appear more approachable.
“Where have you been today?”
He was angry, his dark eyes glaring at her.
“To visit with my cousin, my Lord.”
“And you did not feel that anyone should be notified as to where you had gone… on foot, for—” He looked at the clock on the wall over the top of her head. “—six hours.”
“No,” Grace said. He waited for her to elaborate, but as Grace was nervous and did not wish to antagonize him further, she said nothing else.
“No,” he said softly. “You wish to offer nothing further?”
Grace nodded, which seemed to make him angrier, as he rose to his feet and braced his hands on the desk, leaning on them toward her. It was an intimidating pose, and Grace swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in her throat.
“Countesses do not leave the house and fail to return for six hours without telling anyone where they have gone,” he said. “It was irresponsible and foolhardy, not to mention dangerous, Grace.”
“I was in no danger, my Lord.”
“What if something had happened to you and no one was aware of your identity?” He was growling now.
“I had my maid with me and was with my cousin the rest of the time,” she said quickly, hoping that would appease him.
“You walked, Grace, there and back…along streets I would rather you did not frequent, in conditions that are at best termed, bleak.
“H-how did you know that?”
“Are you telling me you didn’t walk?”
She shook her head. “No, I did walk, but—”
“Well it matters not then how I know, only that I do. You will not walk the streets of London again.”
“Do you?” Grace said and then instantly wished she hadn’t.
“Do I what?”
She had to tell him now she’d started. “Leave the house alone, without telling anyone where you are going.”
“It is different for me,” he said slowly. “And after what happened to you at the ball, I would think you would be aware of just how fragile a woman’s reputation is. Furthermore, you are now my countess and what you do reflects on me. Therefore, I will not have you leaving this house without alerting me as to where you wish to go and with whom, then I shall determine if you may do so.”
Grace had a temper. It rarely surfaced, but when it was tweaked it was not easy to rein back in. And he had just tweaked it.
“I will not be kept away from my cousin or my dog, my Lord.” Stay calm Grace, nothing good ever came
of you losing your temper.
“You’ll do as I say,” he growled, no longer the composed earl she had believed him to be. His eyes blazed and his body became stiff with rage. “And as your cousin is quite possibly responsible for your reckless behavior, I think time away from him would benefit you.”
Pompous ass. Grace clenched her fists.
“I told you not to marry me, told you I had no wish to do so, but you insisted, and now I must adhere to the rules you set me.” Grace tried not to yell, tried to maintain a semblance of calm. The problem was, she had lost the ability to hold her tongue the moment he had told her that Harry was responsible for her behavior. Harry was her savior, the one person who truly understood her.
“You have obviously been allowed to make your own decisions, which I assure you will no longer be the case.”
The anger inside her was so strong, Grace’s vision blurred. She tried to breathe, tried to inhale a large deep breath to calm her down before she spoke, but failed.
“Lord Attwood, I will not let a man who cares nothing for me dictate my movements for the remainder of my life.” She sounded shrill and cared not one whit. He would not do this to her. “I will not be kept from my cousin!”
“I am now the man who will dictate your actions, not your cousin,” he said in a low deep voice. “You bloody well will do as I say,” he went on, surprising her by cursing, “and tomorrow we will address the issue of your new clothing, as I will not allow you to walk about dressed in those rags a day longer!”
“How dare you!” Grace cried. “Not everyone is raised to understand the cut of a coat or how many folds to wear in your necktie.”
“As you have just chosen men’s fashion to make your point I think in fact it strengthens mine. However,” he lifted one hand as she opened her mouth, “just because I do not choose to dress in the fashion my grandfather did, does not make me a dandy!”
“I do not dress like my grandmother,” Grace said, looking down at her dress.
“No, I should imagine your grandmother would never have stooped to dressing in such a rag.”
“Pompous ass!” Grace screeched, getting to her feet. “You are like all the rest of the noblemen I know. Arrogant, self absorbed, with not a care for anyone but themselves!”
They were roaring at each other now, their anger out of control as they both gave vent to the feelings that had ridden them for days. Hurtful words filled Grace’s head, bitter nasty words at the injustice of her situation. She swallowed several times to try and keep them inside.
“Let me go then, let me move back to my cousin’s, and I shall leave London for the country and you can annul the marriage.”
“You wish to be ruined, have society turn their backs on you, and live your life in disgrace?”
“It would be no worse than the fate that awaits me wed to you!” Grace cried, running for the door. Once there she stopped and looked at him one last time. “My cousin saved me, Lord Attwood, when I had no one. I will let not let you keep me from him.”
Wrenching the door open she then fled, picking up her skirts and running, ignoring the roar of her name coming from behind her. She just prayed her door had a sturdy lock on it.
Lord Gallant – available now!
OTHER BOOKS BY WENDY VELLA
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The Lady Plays Her Ace
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Touched By Danger
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Lord Valiant
Lord Valorous
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Christmas Wishes
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