Trenton: Lord of Loss by Grace Burrowes - Lonely Lords 10 - Trenton: Lord of Loss

Author:Grace Burrowes - Lonely Lords 10 - Trenton: Lord of Loss [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Goodreads: 21527166
Publisher: Grace Burrowes Publishing
Published: 2014-04-09T16:00:00+00:00

***

Ellie didn’t find the note Trenton had left her until she’d dressed the next morning. It helped, but not much.

Dear Lady,

We’ll talk further. Please remain safe.

Amherst

Not exactly pink clouds and unicorns but some promise of further dealings.

He was a terror between the sheets, Trenton Lindsey was. He could read her body like a book, giving her exactly what she needed before she’d even formed awareness of her own longings. How on earth, how on God’s green and growing earth, had his wife not been happy with him?

“Callers, my lady,” Mr. Wright intoned.

“Plural?” Ellie’s hand strayed to her hair, which was in need of a thorough trim and unruly as a result.

“Ladies Heathgate, Greymoor, and Amery.”

The local equivalent of royalty. “Gracious. Will the family parlor do, Wright, or shall we put on airs?”

“The family parlor has the freshest flowers, milady. I’ll have Missus send up a tray.”

She greeted her guests after shoving a few more pins in her hair, but really, nobody warned a lady that pregnancy changed even her hair.

“Ellie.” Lady Greymoor—Astrid, and that after only one visit—held out gloved hands. “I’ve brought reinforcements.” She rattled off introductions to Lady Heathgate and Lady Amery. “Because Felicity is my sister and Gwen my cousin-by-marriage, I can lend them to you on a family-at-large basis.”

Whatever that meant. “You can?”

Lady Heathgate, a redhead with a flawless complexion, sent her younger sister an indulgent look. “She can, and I will offer you our official condolences on the loss of your husband. A young man’s death is a tragedy on general principles, but you look to be bearing up.”

Ellie met eyes of an unusual topaz color and thought of the lady’s mastiff of a husband. “I’m faring well, thank you. Probably better than I should be.”

“That’s because you’re to have a child,” Lady Amery said, her smile charitable. She too sported red hair, as well as a statuesque build. “I understand from my cousins you also have the raising of your husband’s daughter, Miss Coriander.”

“Andy,” Ellie said, slightly taken aback to have Dane’s bastard brought into the conversation so blatantly.

Lady Heathgate’s smile remained in place. “Perhaps we can take our tea in the nursery, then. Gwen has a daughter of about seven years, and Rose is always amenable to new acquaintances, provided they’re horse mad, if not horses.”

“Andy qualifies as pony mad,” Ellie said. Lady Greymoor had already taken her arm and was leading her to the door.

“We’ve much to discuss,” the petite blonde said. “Have you chosen names yet, and where is Dane’s cousin when you’re in a delicate condition and in need of cosseting, and do you need help with the baby’s clothes? We’ve all piles and scads of them, and the little dears outgrow everything they don’t stain into oblivion…”

The ladies stayed far longer than courtesy required, and when they left, Ellie and Andy had an invitation to tea the next day with Lady Amery and her daughter, Rose.

Andy aimed a puzzled look at her step-mama when they’d waved their guests good-bye.

“I thought we were in mourning.

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