“Look at me, Mama,” he cried. “I’m ridin’ a wee horsie.”
“That’s a wee pony,” his older brother Channing corrected. He rode his own pony and, in typical older brother fashion, showed off his skills by trotting Marmaduke across the green.
“Be careful, Channing,” Rayne called with motherly concern.
Fletcher glanced up. Even after eight years of marriage and three children—soon to be four—his hot gaze still sent her pulse cavorting. He grinned and handed the reins off to the young groom. “Take it slowly, Robbie. Brixton needs to become accustomed to the movement.”
To think she’d told Ophelia all those years go in Hyde Park that she wanted more than just marriage. This marriage to Fletcher was more satisfying and fulfilling than anything she could’ve ever have imagined. Not only did he include her in his business discussions, but Rayne had decided being a wife and mother was very rewarding indeed.
“Aye, Yer Grace.” The groom, Robbie Gazley, nodded and, with a wink at Brixton, took over the riding lesson.
Fletcher trotted up the steps. When he reached Rayne, Bailey stretched her arms out. “Papa, hold me.”
If ever there was a daddy’s girl, it was Bailey. She possessed her father’s raven hair and blue-green eyes as well. The boys’ hair was darker than Rayne’s but lighter than Fletcher’s. Both had inherited jade-green eyes from their paternal grandfather.
“I had a letter from Greg today,” Fletcher said before brushing his lips across Bailey’s crown. “He’s in Cairo and says he is making great progress with the spice merchants.”
Greg had eagerly taken Fletcher up on the offer to supervise his overseas operations. The change of location and clime had done him a world of good. He’d married the daughter of a diplomat, and they had no plans to return to Scotland anytime soon.
After two Seasons, Florence had returned to Dumfries and married the local vicar. She was expecting their second child as well. Fletcher had forgiven his mother, but not enough to permit her to live in the dower house.
Instead, he’d bought her a lovely cottage in Brighton, permitted her three servants, and paid her a visit once a year. She wrote on occasion but had never forgiven him for marrying beneath his station.
Fletcher drew Rayne into his strong embrace with his free arm. “How are ye feelin’?”
He eyed her distended belly.
“Like a great brood cow.” Laughing, she smoothed her palms over her swollen stomach. This baby wasn’t due for six weeks, but familiar twinges had begun yesterday.
“I had a letter from Theadosia,” she said. Thea was already eagerly planning the annual Christmastide gathering at Ridgewood Court. Each year she somehow managed to outdo the year before. “We will go, won’t we?”
He grinned and kissed her forehead. “We havena missed a year yet, love.”
Nearly all of the people who’d attended the first Christmas house party also made an effort to attend annually. And all were married now as well. Rayne had long ago begun suspecting Theadosia had missed her calling as a matchmaker.
A spasm low in her back made Rayne wince. Arching her spine, she pressed her hand to the small of her back. A gush of warm water spilled down her legs, pulling a startled gasp from her.
Well, this baby was going to put in an early appearance, it seemed.
“Fletcher?”
“Hmm?” he replied distractedly as he observed their sons’ progress on the ponies.
“Please send Gazley for Dr. Pepperidge.”
Fletcher’s gaze whipped to hers—his eyes intense and questioning—then dipped to her tummy. “But… But the bairn isna due for weeks yet.”
“I don’t think the baby knows how to tell time.” She looked pointedly at the pool surrounding her feet.
“Gazley,” Fletcher roared, his face pale as chalk.
Poor man.
Rayne wasn’t sure if delivering their bairns was harder on her or her husband.
The groom jerked his head up, worry and confusion stamped upon his face.
“Go for Dr. Pepperidge.” Fletcher threw a frantic glance at the puddle surrounding Rayne’s feet. “Now!”
After a panicked glance toward Rayne’s soaked skirts, Robbie bobbed his head. “Aye, Yer Grace.” He swiftly removed Brixton and Channing from their mounts and then, leading the ponies by their reins, set off toward the stables at a full sprint.
The poor ponies lumbered behind him on their stubby little legs.
The next twelve hours were a flurry of activity. After kissing each of her children on their impossibly soft cheeks and explaining they’d soon have a new brother or sister, Rayne gratefully sought her bed.
The doctor arrived and went about the preparations for the impending birth. Water was boiled, linens prepared, and the household waited with bated breath as Rayne labored to birth another McQuinton.
Since Channing’s birth, Fletcher had refused to leave her side while she strove to bring their children into the world. He pressed cool cloths to her forehead, murmured words of encouragement and comfort, and held her hand throughout it all.
At ten minutes of one in the morning, Liliana McQuinton made a squalling entrance into the world. And at two minutes of one, Lyle McQuinton quietly slid into his father’s hands.
Grinning from ear to ear, Fletcher held up the still bloody baby. “Twins, lèannan. A lass and a laddie.”
“Well done, ye, Yer Grace.” Dr. Pepperidge gave a nod of approval. “Both bairns are the picture of health.” Wiping his hands on the cloth a maid had provided, he looked to Fletcher. “Congratulations, Yer Grace.”
“Thank ye, Doctor,” Fletcher said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.
A tear trickled from the corner of Rayne’s eyes. Exhausted but happier than she’d ever been, she said, “I didn’t know twins ran in your family, Fletcher.”
“They dinna, as far as I ken.” Fletcher chuckled. “It must be from yer side.”
An hour later, having nursed both of her newborns, and the babes having been bundled away by grinning, cooing nurses, Rayne sagged against the clean linens. Fletcher crawled into bed and gently took her into the circle of his arms.
“Are ye in pain, darlin’?”
Rayne thought for a moment then shook her head. “Not really. I’m sore, of course, but not any more so than the other births.”
“I love ye, Rayne.” He tipped her chin up so that their eyes met. “Ye’ve brought me more happiness and joy than I ever believed possible. Thank God ye trespassed that day, and I met ye.”
Snuggling into his side and laying her head on his bare chest, she played with the crisp black hair there. “I think we would’ve met eventually, one way or another. We were meant to be together.”
“Aye, that we were. For now and forever.”
He sealed that vow with a tender kiss.
Check out the entire Seductive Scoundrels series.
USA Today Bestselling, award-winning author COLLETTE CAMERON® scribbles Scottish and Regency historicals featuring dashing rogues and scoundrels and the intrepid damsels who reform them.Blessed with an overactive and witty muse that won’t stop whispering new romantic romps in her ear, she’s lived in Oregon her entire life, though she dreams of living in Scotland part-time. A self-confessed Cadbury chocoholic, you'll always find a dash of inspiration and a pinch of humor in her sweet-to-spicy timeless romances®.
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Thank you for reading THE DEBUTANTE AND THE DUKE.
I adore Scottish Regencies or Regencies with a Scottish main character. They combine my two most favorite g
enres. If you’ve read the other books in my SEDUCTIVE SCOUNDRELS SERIES, you’ve seen Rayne mentioned a few times. For those who might be concerned about the historical authenticity of her given name, Rayne dates back to at least the fifteenth century.
In THE DEBUTANTE AND THE DUKE, Rayne tells Fletcher her name means song. That is the Scandinavian, Israeli meaning of the name. More commonly, you’ll find references to the name in the medieval era and it is derived from reine or “queen.” In Old French, raine meant frog, and in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, there is a place called Rayne, which means a strip of land.
As it often does, my muse knew more about her than I did. When I decided she’d love singing because her mother had been an opera singer, I didn’t know the name Rayne meant song, amongst other things. That happens so often in my writing now that I have to believe a higher force is guiding me. While Rayne is not an outgoing, strong, independent female lead, she is courageous and intrepid in her own way. She doesn’t feel the need to prove herself to anyone, and I admire that in her.
Fletcher is the quintessential hero, in my opinion: confident, sensitive, and possessing a flirty sense of humor. I tried to create a believable conflict between him and his overbearing mother. People who have warm, loving parents can struggle with understanding dysfunctional child/parent relationships or a parent portrayed as a villain. Unfortunately, they are all too real and far more common than any of us wants to believe.
You may have noticed several references to Ophelia Breckensole and the Duke of Asherford, as well as Sophronie Slater and the Duke of Waycross in THE DEBUTANTE AND THE DUKE. Their stories release soon. To make sure you don’t miss them, subscribe to The Regency Rose, my newsletter (Get a free book too!). I also have a fabulous VIP Reader Group on Facebook. If you’re a fan of my books and historical romance, I’d love to have you join me. You’ll also be the first to see new covers, read exclusive excerpts, be the first to know about contests and giveaways, help me pick titles and name characters, and much, much more!
Please consider telling other readers why you enjoyed this book by reviewing it. I also truly adore hearing from my readers. You can contact me on my website and while you are there, explore my author world. If you enjoyed reading Rayne and Fletcher’s story, be sure to check out the other books in my SEDUCTIVE SCOUNDRELS SERIES.
Hugs,
Earl of Keyworth
Seductive Scoundrels, Book Twelve
The only thing redeemable about the enigmatic and aloof Landry, Earl of Keyworth, was his giant dog. Never had a man infuriated Celestia Tolman more. After the bounder nearly bankrupted her father, Celestia decided to take matters into her own hands. She’d teach the arrogant lord a lesson he’d never forget.
There were two things in all the world that Landry couldn’t abide: liars and cheaters. So when the delectable bluestocking, Celestia Tolman, shows up on his doorstep and attempts to sway his sympathies in favor of her charlatan of a father, Landry has no patience. He sends her packing.
Then the ugly rumors began to circulate about him, and he need look no further than the green-eyed temptress who'd vowed vengeance for her father and their family honor.
The Debutante and the Duke: A Regency Romance (Seductive Scoundrels Book 11) Page 11