The Inheritance (38 page)

“Her Grace is doing fine. She needs to take better care of herself. There’s still a chance she’ll fail to carry the child for the full term.”

“Is that what happened last time?” Nicholas asked.

“Her Grace miscarried in the fifth month.”

“What went wrong?”

“That I cannot say. The child—a boy—was perfectly formed. Unfortunately, Her Grace nearly bled to death. It appeared to me that it would endanger Her Grace’s health to become
enceinte
again.” He scratched the salt-and-pepper whiskers on his chin. “I spoke to the duke—Her Grace’s first husband—about the seriousness of the situation.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say something to me?”

“I thought Her Grace would have explained everything.”

“No,” Nicholas said through tight jaws. “She explained nothing.”

“The only thing to be done now is to make sure she takes very good care of herself. Plenty of sleep, a bland diet, and absolutely no exertion beyond a short walk. The rest we must leave in the hands of the Almighty.”

“Can I … can we … I don’t want to endanger her or the child.” Nicholas couldn’t stop the flush of embarrassment. He didn’t want to ask outright if he could have sexual relations with Daisy. Fortunately, the doctor divined his problem.

“If you are careful, Your Grace. Until the sixth month.”

“Thank you, Dr. Fitzsimmons.”

“Good day, Your Grace.”

Nicholas leaned back against the wall outside Daisy’s door, his legs widespread, and digested the doctor’s healthy ration of food for thought.

He was terrified. What if Daisy died giving birth to his child?

And furious. He should have been told how dangerous it was for her to couple with him.

He shoved the bedroom door open and marched across the room to confront Daisy, who was sitting up in bed with several pillows behind her. Jane had taken advantage of the opportunity to get Daisy out of her riding habit and into a nightgown.

“Leave us please, Jane,” Daisy said.

Daisy never took her eyes off Nicholas. She had some idea, from the muscle ticking in his jaw, of his anger. When the door closed behind the maid, Daisy said, “What has you upset now?”

“I’ve just spoken to the doctor. He told me how dangerous it was for you to get pregnant.”

“Dangerous? For me? You jest.”

“It’s no laughing matter, I assure you, ma’am. You didn’t tell me that you nearly bled to death when you lost the first child.”

“I was perfectly healthy until the cramps began. I was weak for a long time afterward, but I recovered completely.”

“The doctor doesn’t think so.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, confusion clouding her green eyes. “Dr. Fitzsimmons didn’t say I
shouldn’t
get pregnant, he said that I
couldn’t.
”

Nicholas shook his head. “Either you heard him wrong, or he wasn’t entirely honest with you. He just told me that he explained to Tony that you might die if you had another child.”

Daisy’s face bleached white. “I swear I didn’t know. I had no idea such a danger existed.” Now that she recalled the conversation, she realized it was Tony who had given her the doctor’s message that she could no longer have children. Tony must have told her the lie to keep her from pleading with him to try anyway, because she would have begged until he gave in to her. It would have been worth the risk. Was worth the risk. Even knowing she might die, she wasn’t sorry to be carrying the duke’s child.

If what Nicholas said was true, it occurred to her that Tony hadn’t left her bed because she couldn’t give him an heir, but because it would endanger her life if he planted his seed in her. Leaving her bed might have been as much a sacrifice for him as it was for her. It also meant that for years she had
unfairly blamed him for something that wasn’t his fault. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Oh, God.”

Nicholas saw the tears brim in Daisy’s eyes, saw one spill over. He sat beside her and drew her into his arms. As soon as he did, she broke into heart-wrenching sobs. He didn’t know what to say to comfort her. She must be terrified that she would die. He was the one who had insisted upon a real marriage. He had forced her into his bed. If he had known … If she had told him …

“Please don’t cry, Daisy. I can’t bear it when you cry.”

He brushed her flyaway hair from her face and kissed the tears from her eyes. Nicholas had never given solace to a woman. The situation had simply never come up. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he kept on kissing her. Her cheeks, her chin, her forehead, her ears, until finally he found her mouth.

Hunger. It overrode any other thought as his mouth captured hers. His tongue delved deep. She clung to him, with her mouth and hands and body. He felt her need, urgent and demanding. Her body caught fire and ignited his passion.

He ripped her nightgown, popping buttons that clattered to the wooden floor, and found her naked breasts with his callused hands. They were fuller, he realized suddenly. When she moaned, he realized they must also be more sensitive.

“Daisy, Daisy, I need you,” he murmured in her ear. “The doctor said it’s safe. I want you.”

Daisy felt a tightness in her chest. She wondered if another man would have asked. “I want you, too, Nicholas.”

She curled her hand around his nape and drew
him down for her kiss. She arched her body against his, and he groaned as she brushed against his engorged shaft.

“Nicholas.”

“What?”

She laughed, a purring sound. “Sweetheart. You need to take off your clothes.”

Nicholas frowned in consternation. He ripped off his clothes and threw them helter skelter around the room until he was naked.

By then Daisy was grinning.

“Are you satisfied?”

“Not yet. But I will be soon.” She held out her arms, and he came to her.

Nicholas had never been more aware of how much larger he was than Daisy, or how much stronger.
Be gentle. Be careful
. He had to protect Daisy. And their child.

So he moved slowly, his hands caressing her until she writhed in ecstasy beneath him. His palm brushed her nipples until they stood in achingly stiff peaks.

Daisy found herself in the arms of a gentle lover. Where was her barbarian? His face was tense with the effort it took to leash his passion. Daisy didn’t want her savage to be civilized. She needed the wild and wanton lover she had come to know and love over the past three months.

So she nipped his shoulder.

He groaned deep in his throat and clenched her hip with his hand.

And bit the lobe of his ear.

He grunted, and his mouth latched onto her
throat to suckle and send shivers of desire shuddering through her body.

Her hands slid down and cupped him.

He hissed in a breath and stilled, waiting to see what she would do. She circled him with her hand.

“Daisy.” The word came out as a guttural moan.

She spread her hand and encompassed the sac below.

“Good God.” He pressed her hand against him. “I can’t … You can’t …”

She circled the tip of his shaft with her thumb, and he nearly came off the bed.

“What are you doing, Daisy?”

“I want to please you,” she said, a bit breathless herself.

“You do. You are. I can’t … I have to be careful.”

“I’ll let you know if you get too rough, Nicholas. Love me. Please, love me. And let me love you.”

He took away his hand and lay still for her. While she drove him to distraction. Until he couldn’t bear the pleasure any more and had to be inside her.

Only he didn’t enter her right away. He slid a finger inside to see if the passage was wet enough to accommodate him. She wanted him, it seemed, every bit as much as he wanted her.

He sheathed himself slowly, more slowly than he ever had, and enjoyed the wondrous look on Daisy’s face as he seated himself to the hilt.

“You feel exquisite,” Nicholas said. “Tight and warm and wet. Shall I move, Daisy?”

“Not yet, Nicholas. Not yet.”

It was harder than he thought it would be to lie
still within her. He could feel the blood pound in his shaft, feel her muscles contract around him.

“Daisy,” he pleaded.

Her lips curled in a catlike smile of satisfaction. “All right, Nicholas. You can move.”

He levered himself away from her and slowly returned. Again and again. Until his brow was covered with sweat and beads of perspiration had formed above her lip. Her hands were clasped on his arms. Her legs were banded about his hips. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her mouth was open to gasp for air.

She arched up as he lowered himself into her. “How long … how long …?”

“All day. All night,” he said. “I could love you endlessly and never be satisfied.”

She groaned. “I can’t … I need …”

Nicholas slid his hand between them to touch her and felt her immediately convulse around him. Her climax triggered his own, and he arched his body into hers, his face a mask of agony and ecstasy.

He lay atop her for only a moment before he realized what he was doing. “I’m too heavy for you. With the baby, I mean.”

Daisy wanted to feel him atop her now, while her belly was still flat enough for that pleasure. But she sighed happily when Nicholas dragged her into his arms and laid his thigh over hers to hold her close.

But when she looked up at him, he was frowning. “Nicholas? What’s the matter?”

At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer her. When he did, she wished he hadn’t.

“I won’t let you keep the child in England.”

Daisy stiffened. “I won’t allow you to take my child away from me.”

“Then you’ll have to come to America.”

“The heir to Severn deserves to be raised here, where his heritage and patrimony lie.”

“It might be a she, Daisy, had you thought of that? But even if you give me a son, he won’t be a Windermere, because I’m not. Don’t you see that, Daisy?”

“You don’t know anything for sure,” Daisy argued stubbornly. “You haven’t spoken to Estleman yet.”

“Estleman!” Nicholas snorted the word. “You’ve got a lot of hopes pinned on someone who may know nothing.”

“Maybe I have. But I see no reason to discuss this matter until you’ve had a chance to speak to the man. Estleman may be able to prove you are your father’s son.” She paused, took a deep breath and said, “And the baby may not live to be born.”

They both lay silent. There was no way they could make any plans until spring. They would have to wait. And try not to love each other any more than they already did.

That was a difficult chore in the months that followed. Nicholas kept an eagle eye on Daisy, making sure she didn’t overextend herself. She obeyed him because she wanted the child to be born healthy.

The first time the baby moved, she and Nicholas were in bed together. They had just made love. She took his hand in the darkened bedroom and placed it on her rounded belly.

“Feel, Nicholas. That’s our child.”

Nicholas laid his fingertips against her bare skin and waited for perhaps a count of ten before he felt it. A small bubble of movement.

“I felt something!” he exclaimed in delight and surprise.

For Nicholas it was the most powerful experience of his life. He hadn’t been allowed near Evie while their child was inside her, so this was all new to him. He tried not to regret missing all this with Colin. He made up his mind to enjoy everything with Daisy.

“What does it feel like inside you when she moves?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all. When
he
moves it feels … like there’s someone stretching, I suppose, inside my skin.”

Nicholas laid his cheek against her stomach and waited for it to happen again. “I guess she’s gone to sleep.”

“So should we,” Daisy said with a yawn.

A few moments later they were both wide awake as Nicholas kissed his way across her belly and down between her thighs. They finally fell asleep as dawn was breaking.

Since both Daisy and Priss were pregnant at the same time, it was difficult for the two of them to get together. Neither husband wanted his wife traveling the roads in winter. Priss was nearing term, and Daisy’s pregnancy was precarious.

The two women weren’t about to be denied each other’s company until spring. They got their husbands to agree to a winter picnic on a warm, sunny day in late December, at a hunting box halfway between the two properties. Of course, Colin and Roanna were invited, too.

Servants were sent ahead to make sure fires had been laid to ward of any chill in the house and to prepare food for the picnic. The hunting box wasn’t
as small as its name implied, and turned out to have four bedrooms upstairs.

“I don’t want to imagine the sorts of parties that have been held here through the years,” Daisy said to Priss as they rambled through the house searching out all its secrets.

“I can imagine,” Priss said with a smile. “My brother has told me a few stories that would raise the hair on your head.”

To make it seem more like a picnic, they had moved the furniture out of the main room and laid blankets on the floor in front of a huge stone fireplace big enough to hold the two-foot-wide, four-foot-long log that Nicholas and Charles had dropped into it. There had been a light snow the night before, and snug inside with the crackling fire to lend warmth, it was a perfect site for a picnic.

The three couples, parents and children, had an easy time making conversation. Since both women were expecting, they talked about babies. Having raised Colin, Nicholas was able to add a few war stories of his own.

Nicholas watched Daisy for signs of fatigue, and when he saw them, he insisted they retire upstairs so she could take an afternoon nap. Charles knew a good idea when he heard it, and ushered Priss upstairs, as well.

There were servants around, but otherwise Colin and Roanna were left alone in front of the fireplace.

“I suppose I should get up and seat myself in a chair,” Roanna said. She was on the floor with her hands hugging her bent knees.

“I can’t see any good reason to move at all,” Colin
said. He was lying stretched out in front of the fire with his head held up by one hand.

“Your father takes very good care of Daisy,” Roanna noted. “Do you think he’s fallen in love with her?”