She blinked back tears. She was a veritable watering pot nowadays and the slightest thing seemed to set her off. When Alexander returned she would make her peace with him. Her unexpected brush with mortality had given her the push she needed. She doubted she would ever forget what he’d done to her, but maybe now was the time to forgive and give him a chance to demonstrate that his metamorphosis was genuine and permanent.
What a strange day it had been. First there had been Sally’s funeral service and then an encounter with an armed man. She prayed life would be less eventful in the ensuing months for her constitution was no longer as robust as it had once been. She feared many more shocks of this sort might bring on a miscarriage. The conception of this child was now unimportant; she loved and wanted the baby and wished the infant to be born at full term and not prematurely.
Good grief! Alexander was not the only one who had changed. She wasn’t going to abandon her baby to go and live on an unknown estate in Essex. Her life was here at Newcomb bringing up this child.
Dusk had fallen when Alexander eventually joined her. He looked less grim than he had when he’d set out. She greeted him with a smile. “You have spoken to Bill? It’s a great shame Jed didn’t return before you all left for the funeral and I took my walk.”
“Indeed it is, sweetheart.” Wearily he dropped into the armchair opposite the day bed she was relaxing on. “He was quite correct. We found evidence of others having been in the wood. The trail led to the back lane but there we lost it. I’ve spent the remainder of the day riding around the farms warning my tenants to be vigilant, to ensure they have bolted the doors before they retire.”
“Could not Hill have done this for you? “
“Of course, but I wished to let my people know I have their safety at heart.”
“Will the militia be here tomorrow to search for them?”
“I’ve written a letter to Squire Rollins telling him what happened today, I can do no more. I must insist you take no more solitary walks until these men have been apprehended.”
She bristled. “You insist?” His shout of laughter sent her tea cup flying and it smashed in the hearth. “Now look what you made me do.”
“Don’t ruffle your pretty feathers, my love; I’m certain one broken cup won’t be noticed. I shall rephrase my sentence.” His wicked smile played havoc with her equilibrium. “My dear, might I request you reconsider your daily promenades? I should be most distressed if you were shot by an itinerant veteran.”
“You’re being ridiculous, sir. However, I shall bow to your position as head of the household and follow your instructions. In future I shall expect you to be downstairs at seven o’clock each morning to accompany me on my walk.”
“A hit direct, my love. I shall be delighted to come with you. I am also certain the two outside men who must check the grounds before we go out will be equally thrilled you wish to walk so early.” He grinned. “I’m relieved I don’t have to thunder off to London today. My thigh is deucedly painful.”
“I’d quite forgotten you have an injury. Indeed, you’ve been racing about these past days without the slightest sign of a limp.”
He clutched his chest and fell back in his chair. “I’m in need of your loving care, sweetheart. See—I’m swooning.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alexander. You’re perfectly well.” Her smile slipped - he did look a trifle pale. “My dear, shall I fetch Bill to take care of you?”
“Absolutely not! I’m funning—my leg is sore but will be perfectly fine by tomorrow.”
There was little point in changing to dine so she spent a further delightful hour discussing the high price of corn, the woeful provision for ex-servicemen and whether it was now safe to tour the continent. When Bill came in to announce dinner was served she could not remember having spent such a relaxed afternoon with Alexander.
After dinner he smiled at him as he lounged at the table. “Do you wish to remain on your own to drink port? I warn you I shall be retiring soon so if you linger long I won’t be in the drawing-room when you come through.” Isobel had been persuaded to drink a glass of champagne in honour of the passing of her abigail. The unaccustomed alcohol had quite gone to her head making her feel as skittish as a school-girl.
“I’ve had sufficient to drink, thank you, my dear. I’ve finished off the bottle—far more than I normally have.”
She snorted inelegantly. “Your normal intake, if I remember rightly, would include three bottles of claret, port and a decanter of brandy. Heavens! I would consider what you have imbibed this evening as a mere bagatelle.”
Not remaining to hear his reply she almost skipped through the communicating door into the drawing-room. She was not unduly surprised to hear his chair crash back and to see him right behind her.
“I’ve changed, sweetheart, I no longer drink to excess nor do I gamble. I am a reformed man in every way.”
“I’ve come to a decision, Alexander. The more I think about it the less I want Mr Bentley to have anything to do with Newcomb. Neither can I in all conscience abandon this baby. You were quite right to point out children need both parents in order to prosper.”
His eyes widened, he looked shocked. Did he not want her to remain? Then he was beside her and before she could tell him to desist she was in his arms. She meant to push him away but her hands crept around his neck and buried themselves in his hair.
He drew back before matters progressed to their inevitable conclusion. “Darling, we can’t make love here. We must retire to your bedchamber.”
Her lips glowed from his kisses, every inch of her tingled from his touch, there was nothing she would like more than to feel him inside her, to experience the ecstasy they’d shared at the beginning of their marriage, but common sense returned. This was not the time to let him get closer and she wasn’t certain such activities would not be harmful to the baby.
“No, Alexander, we must not do this. I don’t feel my pregnancy is secure enough to risk such vigorous activity especially after the double shocks I’ve suffered today.”
At her words his ardour shrunk, the hectic colour along his cheekbones faded and his eyes returned to their normal blue-grey. “I’ve no wish to jeopardize the health of the child. I hadn’t realised something so pleasurable could be harmful.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s just I find you damn near irresistible. I shall have to find other outlets for my energy.”
She could not allow him to believe things were fully restored between them She was still not quite sure. “There’s something else I wish to tell you. If this baby is a boy then, at the moment, my role as your true wife will be ended; I shall live here in the east wing, but not depart from Newcomb entirely.”
“And if it’s a girl?”
She could not look away. She was pinned like a butterfly on a board beneath his gaze. “If our child is female then I shall remain with you as your wife until you have your son and heir.”
Alexander tried to school his features, not show his elation, for she might misinterpret his reaction and think it was triumph not joy. He knelt down beside her and took her hands within his own. They were all but lost beneath his. “Then, my darling, I shall pray every night that this baby of ours is a girl.”
“And I shall pray for the opposite. I might never be able to produce another child, remember we thought I was barren. I thought securing your title was everything to you?”
Gently he raised her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one in turn. “No, Isobel, you’re everything to me. I shall count myself a lucky man if we produce a dozen daughters if it means that you remain as my loving wife.”