At His Countess' Pleasure by Olivia Waite

Author:Olivia Waite [Waite, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780997333251
Publisher: Olivia Waite

Babies, Simon had decided, were disgusting little creatures. There always seemed to be something oozing, dripping or leaking out of them from one end or, worse, the other. Only this afternoon, Nicholas and his various effluvia had ruined Simon’s gloves, cuffs, cravat, waistcoat, and shirtfront—all in less than an hour, and all from a child who lacked even the ability to hold up his own wobbly, soft, babyish head.

Clearly the boy was a prodigy.

He was also providing Simon this afternoon with a much-needed hiatus from all the work that went into maintaining the earldom. Tenant disputes, cottage repair, early harvest preparations by his several stewards, a few financial endeavors he had helped to fund and wished to personally track the progress of... He told himself it was noble and necessary, that he’d been raised and trained and educated so as to be the strong and lauded head of this empire in miniature, but every so often his soul rose up and chafed beneath a burden he hadn’t selected for himself.

Well, he hadn’t chosen Nicholas either, but something about the process of caring for his son an hour or two a week—of soothing, watching, entertaining, cossetting and withstanding the grumpy presence of a wordlessly wailing infant—seemed to untie something inside Simon, to lessen the general sense of weight and tension he seemed to have been carrying around for years. That relief was worth any number of new shirts and linens.

A soft knock at the study door heralded his countess, looking particularly fetching in a deep-blue gown. Simon hoisted his son up in the air and smiled at his wife. “Is Mrs. Walker leaving so soon?” he asked. She shook her head. Something tight in her expression sobered him up and sent away the last few wisps of relaxed good feeling. “What is the matter?”

When Anne straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, he knew it was going to be something significant. “I’m thinking of having John and Hecuba to stay with us,” she said.

Her voice was calm but the force of her words nearly laid him out flat. Simon tucked the baby more securely into the crook of his arm. Anne was waiting for his response, her eyes unnaturally bright and her shoulders set in expectation of a fight. He wasn’t going to give it to her. “Why?” he asked gently.

“Because they’ve asked,” Anne said. “Because they’re family, and I miss her, and I’ll bet you miss your brother.” She took a breath that had a bit of a shudder at the end, and it was only then that Simon became truly alarmed. “Because Hecuba’s health is suffering and they need to consult a specialist here in London.”

“Bloody hell.” Anne didn’t flinch at all at the language. Simon sat down heavily in a well-stuffed chair, Nicholas twisting at the change in position then relaxing again against his father’s torso.

“It’s the end of the season,” Anne hurried to say. “Most people have left town already and the few who remain are entertaining far less frequently.

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