Regency High Society Vol 2: Sparhawk's Lady / The Earl's Intended Wife / Lord Calthorpe's Promise / The Society Catch. Miranda JarrettЧитать онлайн книгу.
feelings, she wasn’t listening any longer. Instead she was staring intently at Desire’s belly, a look of wonder on her face.
“Your baby just moved, didn’t it?” she asked softly. “I saw it stir through the muslin of your gown.”
Desire nodded, her brows raised with surprise at such a question from a woman she barely knew. “He’s always running races this time of day. Preparing himself for tea, I suppose.”
“You know it’s a boy?” Desire leaned a little closer, eager for information on a subject on which she was abysmally ignorant. Frederick was an educated man who had taught her many things, but there were definite gaps in his learning.
Desire smiled for the first time since she’d met Caro. “Only as much as any mother does. But this child moves so much like my son did that I cannot help but believe it’s a boy, too.” She reached out for Caro’s hand and placed it on her belly. “There! That was a good kick, wasn’t it?”
Caro gasped. “I did not know a baby could be so—so lively!”
Desire laughed. “‘Tis nothing compared to what they do once they’re born. My son Johnny was born on board a frigate, and you’ve never seen a child wriggle and squeal with delight as he did every time they beat to quarters. But then, you know how boys love drums, even tiny baby boys.”
“Well, no, I don’t really.” With obvious reluctance Caro lifted her hand, though she kept her fingers spread as if still feeling the baby beneath them. “I have no brothers.”
“No children of your own?”
“None.” Deliberately Caro closed her hand, drawing her fingers up tight. “My husband and I have never been blessed.”
“You may still be,” said Desire. “You’re still a young woman, and with men age never seems to make a difference. Lord Byfield may yet see the day when he’ll embrace an heir other than George Stanhope.”
But Caro shook her head, sorrow clouding her face. “I’ve spent more than half my life with Lord Byfield, and if there’s no heir by now—no, it won’t happen.”
“I’m sorry, Caro.” Tears of sympathy welled up in Desire’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
But Caro shook her head again, this time with a fierce determination that the other woman never expected. “You mustn’t pity me, or judge my life empty. I may not have children, but I do have Frederick’s love, and he has mine. For me that is more than enough.”
“You love your husband that much?”
Caro’s chin inched higher. “That much, and more.”
“So it is with me and my Jack,” said Desire softly, her hands cradling her unborn child. “I’ll pray for your husband’s deliverance, and rejoice in your happiness when he returns to you.”
Yet Desire’s expression was anything but happy as she turned back to her brother, standing these past minutes as a silent witness to the women’s conversation, his face shuttered and his thoughts his own. Gently she touched his sleeve. “That’s your answer, too, isn’t it, Jere?”
He cocked his head and frowned. “Meaning?”
Desire took a deep breath. “Meaning that you intend to sail for Naples on this lady’s behalf, and nothing George Stanhope or Hamil Al-Ameer or I can say or do will make you change your mind. Not that I’ll be foolish enough—or selfish enough—to try again.”
In that moment he realized she knew everything: what had happened on the Chanticleer, his failure to save his ship and crew, the fears that haunted him still. She knew, and she understood why he couldn’t turn his back on the one chance he would have to find peace with himself. What was it she’d said about Jack? That she loved him enough to let him leave? Not that he’d ever doubted the bond between them, but now he realized how strong a woman his little sister had become.
“You’re wrong, sister mine,” he teased with more tenderness than he knew. “I’ve no intention in the least of acting on this lady’s behalf.”
Caro’s heart plummeted. Though he’d said nothing to her of his plans on the long ride from Portsmouth, she had assumed that he’d agree, or else he would have left her behind. Instead he meant to abandon her here, now, crushing her last fragile hopes forever. For what must be the final time she looked at him, the tall, handsome man she’d believed would be her champion.
But to her confusion, he met her gaze and grinned. “I’ve never done anything in anyone else’s name, Desire,” he said, “and I’m not about to begin now. If the lady wishes me to sail to Naples, why then, she’d damned well better be coming with me.”
Thomas Perkins sat back in his leather-covered chair and pursed his lips with displeasure. He had put off seeing this particular gentleman as long as he could, hoping that perhaps he would leave the offices on his own, but here it was nearly dusk and still the man had insisted. Clearing his throat, Perkins drew off his spectacles and lay them in the exact center of the packet of papers on the desk before he answered the gentleman who sat opposite him.
“I don’t believe I can accommodate you, sir,” said the lawyer in the careful, clipped speech that had served him so well in the courts. “I don’t understand how such gutterborn gossip can have any relevance at all to the well-being of my client.”
“What’s gutter-born is your client, Perkins,” said George Stanhope sharply. “Her current behavior is absolutely no better than anyone can expect.”
“Her ladyship’s behavior both past and present has never been anything less than exemplary, Mr. Stanhope. I pay no heed to rumor, sir, and instead make my judgments on my own knowledge. And I know, sir, that Lady Byfield is incapable of the activities of which you charge her, just as I know she has gone visiting friends, as her butler told me last Thursday, when these rumors first surfaced.”
George struck his fist on the edge of the desk. “Then she’s tricked you, too, just as she tricked my uncle! She winks once and shows her dimples, and you old men turn into blathering fools. You know she’s taken young lovers for years. She’s even made overtures to me—told me what she’d do with me if we was ever alone, bold as brass. Like mother, like daughter, they say. She’s probably given my uncle more horns than a ten-point buck.”
“You go too far, sir.” Perkins realigned his spectacles a fraction more to the left. “I have told you before, Mr. Stanhope, that I’ve no wish to discuss her ladyship with you. Now if you will excuse me—”
“No I will not, Perkins! Dash it all, how can you defend the creature? She has run off with a common thief, the very man who robbed us both on the road! They’ll hang him when they catch him, and God help her if she’s with him when he’s taken.”
“But I thought you’d said earlier that her ladyship had been kidnapped by this ruffian, that you were waiting on tenterhooks for his ransom note?” Though Perkins’s expression didn’t change, he did allow a breath of irony to creep into his voice. “You’ve been quite thorough in that, haven’t you, Mr. Stanhope? The warrant, the handbills, the whispered story that’s nearly as common as the one about the French war.”
Flustered, George eased a finger around the edge of his fashionably high neckcloth. “You must have misunderstood, Perkins,” he said weakly. “Misheard it all, eh?”
But Perkins continued as if George hadn’t spoken. “So thorough, in fact, sir, that I almost suspect the entire escapade to be of your own invention.”
George dropped back into his chair, rubbing the thumbnail he’d earlier bitten to the quick against the inside of his palm. It took all his self-control to keep the telltale fingernails—or what was left of them—hidden from the lawyer. Why the devil hadn’t he thought to wear gloves? If Perkins were to guess how brashly he was bluffing, the lawyer would be on his neck like a weasel.
He couldn’t let that happen.