Dangerous Duke by Christine Wells

Author:Christine Wells
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2014-06-05T21:00:00+00:00

“FANNY, don’t be absurd. You are not a whale,” said Louisa. “The merest suspicion of a bump, that is all, and you must be six months gone at least.”

“My dear, you are too kind.” Fanny sighed. “But I daresay I outweigh the Prince Regent by now. Romney hates my being so fat.”

“You know that’s not true.” Since Louisa’s big cousin doted on his wife in the most slavish and sickening way, Fanny could only be indulging in her high sense of drama to make such a foolish statement.

Fanny shrugged her shoulders pettishly. “Oh, I’ll grant you, he’s jumping out of his skin with excitement over the new baby. He’s convinced it’s the son and heir. I hope,” she said pensively, “that it is a girl.”

“Either way, the child will be well loved,” said Louisa quietly.

A familiar pain stabbed her heart. How she longed for a child of her own! She was years older than Fanny and piercingly aware that the time to bear healthy children was running out.

She’d tried to tell herself that some things could never be, yet a part of her had always hoped for . . . well, a miracle, she supposed. In the meantime, she’d be the best aunt and cousin the children in her family could wish for. She glanced at Fanny. At least she would not have to worry about her figure thickening.

The thought should have cheered her, but it did not. Her flat, almost concave stomach seemed lacking next to Fanny’s swollen belly. This field lies fallow . . .

Louisa took a deep breath and tried to put the matter out of her mind. The more pressing concern was to return the diary and the translation to her brother.

As Fanny continued to rummage disconsolately through her extensive wardrobe, Louisa risked another surreptitious glance at the small watch that hung from a fob on her bodice. She needed to get away from London, but the way things were going, Fanny might never decide what to wear for the journey, much less what to pack.

“What about the blue cambric? That’s pretty,” said Louisa. Please wear the confounded cambric!

Fanny sent her a sharp-eyed look. “Is something the matter? You seem on edge today.”

A commotion downstairs saved Louisa from answering.

“Oh, that will be Romney,” said Fanny. “He’s as mad as a bear this morning. He hates being holed up in a traveling carriage with me when he’d prefer to ride.”

Louisa didn’t answer. Her mouth dried so quickly and completely she could barely swallow. Her pulse raced and her breath shortened, the way they always did when—

Heavy steps sounded on the stairs, and she knew, just knew whose steps they were.

Gripping her hands together, she trained her eyes on the door.

It flung open and he stood there, the great, sleek brute with grim purpose behind the devilish smile. That detestable smile.

“Lord Jardine!” Fanny gasped as he kicked the door shut behind him. “What are you doing?”

He leaned his shoulders against the oak panels, ignoring the shouts and hammering of the footman who’d chased up the stairs after him.

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