Seduced by His Touch (31 page)

Kent, England

Late February 1811

“D
o you need anything?” Jack asked from his seat in the second-floor family drawing room.

Ensconced in a plump armchair opposite, Grace glanced up from her embroidery and met his gaze. “I’m fine, darling, but you’re sweet to ask.”

“Another blanket? I don’t want you taking a chill.”

“I think there’s little likelihood of that,” she replied, hiding a gentle grin.

Despite the snow-covered fields outside and the watery winter sunlight that was doing its best to filter through the windowpanes, the room was warm and cozy. A hearty fire blazed in the grate, Ranunculus curled up in a contented circle on a nearby side chair, his fur nearly as orange as the flames.

“What about food? Are you hungry?”

“Not after that huge plate of cakes and sandwiches I had just an hour ago. No wonder I’m as wide and round as one of those hot-air balloons Drake was talking about over the holidays. If I eat any more right now, I’ll probably ascend. Or else pop.”

He sent her a reproving look. “Don’t be absurd. You’re eight months pregnant, you’re supposed to be round. As for your appetite, you’re eating for two. So, no worrying about your figure—which is beautiful, I might add. Every morning, when I wake up and see you beside me, I ask myself how I ever got so lucky.”

Joy burst inside her, turning her as gooey as melted sugar. “You really don’t mind me keeping you up all night with my tossing and turning, or my having to get up every hour to use the commode?”

“No,” he said in a serious tone. “I really do not.”

“You could sleep in your old bedroom—”

“I’m not sleeping in my old bedroom. Never, ever again. Besides, you need me.”

He was right. She did need him, and loved him so very deeply.

“Now, can you use another pillow?” he continued. “Your ankles are swollen. Do you have them propped up enough?”

With a little tug on her skirt, she showed him the pile of pillows under her feet. “I’m wonderful. Pampered as a pasha.”

“Well, then, if there’s nothing I can bring you, could you do with a kiss?”

A smile teased her lips. “I can always do with a kiss.”

Standing, he moved close and bent down, bracing his hands on the chair arms on either side of her. Her eyelids floated downward, her heart thrumming with a quiet rapture as his lips met hers. Delight poured through her in a honeyed wave, a pleasure of which she knew she would never get enough. Every kiss was always as deliriously wonderful as the first, each touch somehow new and uniquely special.

Her senses were tingling, her skin flushed when he pulled away, carefully banked desire in his azure eyes.

Then their child kicked from within her with a force strong enough to draw Jack’s gaze.

“Was that the baby?” he asked.

She nodded. “He’s at it again. At least he’s not pummeling me under my ribs like he was last night.”

“She’s strong-willed, like her mama. Has a definite mind of her own.”

“What makes you so sure this is a girl? Don’t you want a son?”

He laid a wide palm over her belly and rubbed in a soothing motion. “Honestly, I don’t care. Either will do fine by me.”

“So, you won’t object if I give you nothing but daughters?”

“I can’t think of anything more delightful than spending my days surrounded by a flock of lovely Byron ladies.”

“A flock, hmm? I haven’t consented to producing a flock.”

“You will,” he murmured, dropping another long kiss on her mouth. “I’ll persuade you somehow.”

She knew he would, and that she’d delight in every moment.

A knock came at the door. “Pardon me, your lordship. Your ladyship,” said a housemaid as she bobbed a curtsey. “I’m ever so sorry to interrupt, but the post just come. And a messenger as well.”

“Put it over there on the table, would you?” Jack told the girl without looking around.

Grace rolled her eyes at him and bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Now, where were we?” he asked as soon as the servant had gone.

“At a point where we should probably stop,” she said ruefully.

He sighed and straightened. “I suspect you’re right. Unfortunately. Shall I see what’s in the mail?”

“Yes. Maybe the messenger has brought word from Cade. I wonder if Meg’s had the baby yet? She’s due any day now.”

“Exactly,” he agreed. “And she’s safe and sound at Braebourne, where you should likely have stayed for your confinement, as well.”

She laid a hand over her stomach. “The circumstances weren’t the same at all. She and Cade live in Northumberland, and they were worried about finding themselves caught in a snowstorm during the birth. Or at least Cade was. Meg told me over Christmas that she would have been willing to risk it, but she worried Cade wouldn’t fare so well. Especially if the doctor couldn’t make it there in time. So a few months at Braebourne, it was.”

“I ought to have insisted too. You’d have had family around to help you.”

“I
have
family. I have you.”

“I meant female family.”

“You and Mrs. Mackie will be here, and the midwife. I know men aren’t supposed to attend the birth, but I want you with me.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there, though I doubt I’ll be much help.”

“I can hold your hand.”

“And squeeze it as hard as you like, too.”

She smiled, then returned to the previous topic. “As nice as Braebourne is, I want our child to be born here at home.
Our
home, that you chose for me.”

“Well, I just want you to be happy. And while I like this house, the place isn’t important. Wherever you are, whether it’s here in Kent or London or anywhere else you may decide you wish to live, that’s home to me.”

His gaze met hers, his eyes warm and full of love. After a long moment, he turned and went to retrieve the mail.

“So, is there a letter from Cade?” she asked. “Did Meg have the baby?”

Returning to his seat, he flipped through the correspondence. “There is a letter, but it’s from Edward.”

“Well, open it. Let’s hear.”

He read silently for a moment, then smiled. “She’s had the baby. A boy, born on the twenty-first. They haven’t named him yet, but they’ll send word again as soon as they do. Apparently, Cade would have written to tell us the good news himself, but he was too exhausted. Meg’s labor went on for nearly nineteen hours and Cade was frantic with worry. But mother and baby are doing fine, both of them hale and happy.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. What else does he say?”

“Mama was a godsend, apparently. Kept everyone calm. She says to tell you that if you haven’t delivered in the next two weeks and Meg and the baby are still doing well, that she would love to come here to help with your lying-in.”

“Your mother is wonderful, and I would adore having her here for the birth. Of course you must write and say she is most welcome.”

Jack dipped his head, but not before she saw a glint of relief in his eyes. She knew in her heart, though, that he had no cause to worry. Everything was going to go well, and next month they would bring a beautiful new baby into the world. On the other hand, she had to confess that it would be reassuring having his mother with them to give advice and lend her support.

Laying a hand on her rounded belly, she let herself daydream.

“What’s this now!” he declared. “Good heavens, I don’t believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“He’s really going to do it!”

“Do what?”

“Get married.”

“Edward, you mean?

He nodded. “He says the time has arrived for him to take a duchess.”

“Well, if Edward wants to marry, I can’t see the harm. I assume he’s going to look for a wife during the Season.”

“No, he’s already found one. They’ve been betrothed for years.”

Her jaw dropped open, stunned to silence.

“Exactly!” he said in complete agreement. “Ned says he hopes we’ll be able to come to London this summer to meet her, if the baby is able to travel by then, of course.”

She considered for a long moment. “Well, we’ll have to go, since I’m sure my curiosity won’t let me stay home.”

Their gazes met and they both smiled. A yawn caught her a few seconds later, her eyes growing moist with sleepiness.

Folding the letter in half, Jack set it aside. “Nap time.”

“I don’t need a nap,” she protested.

“You most certainly do, since you got barely a wink last night.” Standing, he leaned down to help her out of her chair. “Come, my lady. It’s off to bed with you.”

“Now why does that sound so vastly improper when you say it?” she murmured, as he levered her to her feet.

“Because I’m a vastly improper sort of man.” Enfolding her in his arms, which were long enough to reach around her, even with the baby between them, he drew her close for a kiss. “Aren’t you glad?”

“Eternally.” A radiant smile stole over her face. “I love you, Jack Byron.”

He kissed her again. “I love you, too, Grace Byron.”

“I know you do. You show me every day just how much. Now, take me to bed, my lord.”

Tucking her against his side, Jack did exactly that.