Chapter Twenty-Four

C hristmas in Caversham was not possible that year. After settling into their townhouse on Arlington Street as a newly wedded couple, Adam and Alice watched the year come swiftly to an end. They had no time to make an extended trip to Stonely Grange and choose furnishings, wallpaper, and paint.

In short, the Grange was in no condition to host a massive Diamond Christmas.

Thus, Adam had the pleasure of taking his pregnant wife to Oak Grove Hall in Derby for her first extended-family house party.

He thought, perhaps, Alice was relieved not to be in charge during her first year as his wife. Not only did growing a babe sap her energy, but she was still not as comfortable hosting gatherings as his mother and sisters were.

Besides, it gave him more time simply to coddle and cherish her. Thus, while merry, familial chaos reigned all around them, they took walks in the crisp air, skated on the frozen pond, and sat drinking mugs of hot milk punch or an apple toddy. Naturally, there was also plenty of beef tea and, when one needed a cool beverage, frothy eggnog.

Alongside the daily air of merriment, there were also platters of sugar cookies and ginger biscuits, toffee cakes, and pear tarts on every table and sideboard. Adam would swear he had put on a stone’s weight at least in the week they’d been there, and they had another week to go.

“Happy?” he asked his wife, who had never looked more relaxed since he’d met her.

“Yes,” she hissed out the last letter as she smiled. “And after another half hour of doing nothing, I shall find some paper from your mother’s study and pen a letter to Lady Beasley and her daughters.”

“Whyever for?” he asked. “Do they owe you back wages?”

They both laughed at that.

“They asked after me in Lady Beasley’s recent missive to your mother. Wasn’t that kind? They are all ever so happy for us.”

“Are they?” Adam was a little surprised after his final conversation with Lady Beasley.

“Indeed, yes,” she said. “When next we go to Bath, we are invited to visit them.”

Since they had decided to keep his maternal grandparents’ Royal Crescent home, it was a real possibility they would be back in Bath the following summer. First, they intended to spend the spring at Stonely Grange, preparing it to be lived in. His family was champing at the bit to descend upon Alice’s home and explore where new little Diamonds would be raised for some part of each year.

“If you wish to visit Lord and Lady Beasley or the Queen herself, I shall be pleased to go with you.”

That night, they helped decorate the tree in the main drawing room, and Adam had never enjoyed a Christmas eve more than that one.

He even won at Snap-Dragon, although he considered it a waste of good brandy seeing it going up in blue flames for the sake of a few raisins and a party game. Much later, in the room he’d always been assigned since he was born, Adam snuggled under extra blankets with Alice, her back to his front, with him curled around her.

Swiving had been as intense as ever, despite her slightly rounded stomach. Now, as they drifted off to sleep, he happily played with her full breasts, stroking her curves while she sighed happily.

“Merry Christmas, Husband,” she said, and although his desire roared to life again at her sultry, drowsy tone, he didn’t act upon it. Alice needed more sleep than she used to.

“Merry Christmas, Wife.” And soon after, he heard her gentle snoring.

Caversham, Spring 1852

Alice didn’t mind if they ever returned to London. Stonely Grange wasn’t merely restored to its former grandeur, it was much improved.

One thing she’d learned in the interim between when the Grange had been ravaged and when she’d walked room-by-room with Adam to plan its refurbishing was she preferred less to more. She liked the open spaces. Instead of minimal furniture and fewer bric-a-brac making the Grange seem empty, it felt freeing.

Especially since Alice liked to pace, either when happy and thinking or distraught and worrying, not that she could recall the last time she was either of the latter.

“No one in London would consider this finished,” Adam said as they sat with their feet up on the same ottoman, leaning back on a velvet couch in their upstairs private salon.

“Don’t you think so?” Alice asked, glancing around at this, one of the last rooms they’d completed since it was unimportant to the daily life of the manor.

Now that it was done, they were enjoying it. “But it is so peaceful and functional. A sofa for sitting, a place for our feet, a table at either end for our drinks and lamps. We have a mirror to add light and space, a painting for beauty and to engage the mind, and plenty of books to capture the imagination.”

Why was Adam laughing at her?

“You sound like one of those long-winded, zealous advertisements in the newspaper or a theatre bill. But you are selling the joy of not buying.”

“I am,” she agreed. “Maybe we could add another sideboard and put a lace doily in the center and, upon that, a red glass. Mr. Henry has plenty of flowers we could pinch. Would that help?”

Adam was laughing at her again. “Let’s keep it as it is,” he said. “All of it. We’ll live with the Viking raid style until we tire of it.”

She smacked his thigh resting against her own. “It is not a Viking raid style. It is uncluttered — ”

“Stark,” he interjected.

“Tastefully understated,” she retorted.

“Unusually austere,” he shot back.

“Discreet.”

“Spartan as if we have lost all our money,” he said, before laughing again at her wide-eyed expression.

Alice shook her head. “Now I see the issue. It reflects badly upon the Diamond name if every wall isn’t filled with gilded mirrors and oil paintings. We ought to buy a few dozen framed ocean scenes and bowls of fruit. If we can actually see the pattern on the soft wool rug, then we ought to add a few dozen chairs and tables to cover every square inch.”

He turned his whole body to face her, giving himself better access, and started to tickle her. Her husband had discovered her vulnerability only a month ago and used it to his advantage.

“No,” she squealed, leaning away from his probing fingers, a hand at each side of her rib cage. Still, she teased, “Maybe two more sofas in this room alone.”

Against the armrest, Alice couldn’t squirm away. Grabbing his hands, she tried to hold them still. Breathlessly, she added, “Maybe we need to put a pink glass fountain in the middle of the house.”

Instantly, Adam ceased his torment and rested those same large hands upon each of her breasts. “I would rather have an alabaster statue of you.”

“For any guests to see?” she asked. Her husband wasn’t a dreadfully jealous man, but he was possessive. “What about our staff? You don’t mind the footmen dusting my marble thighs.”

He put his head back and laughed. “You are a minx. I would keep it covered except for when we were alone. For my eyes only. Both would add a certain polish to the Grange, a ten-foot statue and an indoor fountain.”

“Like the perfect panache of feathers upon a lady’s hat,” she said.

“Indeed,” he answered, and his thumbs started teasing her nipples through the soft combed cotton of her gown.

“Snout-nose,” Alice muttered in an attempt to win the debate before she was overcome with desire for him and lost her ability to speak. For her husband knew precisely how to stroke her body, playing her like a musician of the highest caliber, until she was unable to think.

Adam froze. “I vow I am not.” He appeared uncertain. “I promise you I don’t need to flaunt my wealth.”

Rolling her eyes, she assured him, “I was speaking in jest. I know who you are, Lord Diamond. Now, touch me again.”

He relaxed. “We don’t need anything more to make Stonely perfect,” he added, cradling her face in his hands. Then he leaned over her to kiss her.

“There is one thing more,” she said before his mouth fitted to hers. “Mrs. Georgie would like one of those hand-cranked, dish-washing machines.”

They started to make love even as Alice could feel her husband’s body shaking with laughter.

Bath, Late Summer 1852

The Royal Crescent townhouse rang out with his wife’s cries, and Adam poured himself a glass of brandy. Since none of his family were nearby, Alice was being attended by Lady Beasley and Lady Susanne, along with the best midwife in Bath.

“All shall be fine, my lord,” Lady Beasley had assured him, looking cool as ever despite the heat. Then she had shut his bedroom door in his face. He thought she’d appeared satisfied to do so.

Still, the birthing room was no place for a man. He would only get in the way, show worry on his face, perhaps even faint if things got dodgy. He couldn’t even bear to think of Alice in pain. And it was all his fault.

But his father had been through this five times successfully. He wished the earl was there instead of in London, at least to drink brandy with him, slap him on the back, and — for God’s sake — tell him everything was going to be fine.

In any case, word had been sent to Piccadilly of the impending babe, and some or all of his family would arrive as soon as they could get themselves loaded into a train carriage.

A sudden rapping at the front door caused him to jump up from the chair he’d dragged into the hallway outside the bedroom door. Although spilling his drink down his shirt, he managed to set the glass down rather than dropping it to shatter.

Of all the emotions he was expecting when this moment came, he hadn’t thought he would be as nervous as a cat in a rocking chair emporium.

Not bothering to put on his jacket, Adam dashed downstairs to answer the knock himself since he was entirely useless to do anything helpful for Alice. Besides, Mr. Lewis was back in London, and their skeleton staff in Bath were not as quick.

“Lord Beasley!” Adam exclaimed, seeing the man on the doorstep. Then he reached out, took hold of his arm, and yanked him inside.

“My, my,” Lord Beasley said. But instead of freeing his arm, he patted Adam’s shoulder. “I thought I might be needed, what with you being a first-time father.”

“Indeed, my lord. I am exceedingly grateful for company. I thought I might go mad left to my own counsel. Would you care for some brandy? I know I would. In fact, I was just drinking some and then spilled it.”

Looking down at his shirtfront, he could see the damage and gave it a futile wipe.

“I have a decanter upstairs,” Adam added. “Please, come this way.”

The Beasleys had become their friends after he and Alice returned to Bath upon finishing their first round of refurbishing Stonely Grange. Privately, Adam still thought his wife would want to add a few more oddments and trinkets to clutter the place up a bit in the current fashion, especially when they went back there with the baby.

Ever since they’d arrived in Bath, she had been feathering their nest with more stuff in the nursery than it seemed they’d put in all of the Grange.

“Does the wee one really need —?” Adam would begin to ask when she arrived home with another blanket, a painted miniature chair, or even a whip-and-top toy. But Alice, it’s a baby!

A jump rope appeared in the nursery recently, along with a hoop that could be sent flying along the street with the right stick, a miniature sailboat, and a doll. She was ready for any eventuality of sex or interest.

Whatever he asked about, Alice held up her hand, and he let it go with a smile. After all, since they planned for a large family, it was money well spent. Even if the first child barely used the new rocking horse, the next one surely would.

“Thank you for coming,” Adam said once they were seated in the upstairs salon beside the room where Alice labored. Adam kept the door open so he could still hear what was going on and poured Lord Beasley a drink.

Alice had sent over a calling card to The Paragon residence as soon as they’d returned to the spa city, determined to make amends. Invited to dinner forthwith, Adam had been relieved when his mother’s friend forgave them before the first glass of wine.

“While we haven’t found a governess nearly as good as you,” Lady Beasley had said, “I am pleased you found your happiness, and to think I had something to do with bringing my good friend’s son together with the perfect wife.”

Losing her best governess, with a lack of notice given before departure, and Alice marrying Susanne’s suitor — it was all water under the bridge once the Beasleys learned her true identity.

“Two years in hiding!” Lord Beasley had said in wonder over the roast chicken. “I vow you could have confided in us, Lady Diamond, and we would have done our utmost to assist.”

“We would have,” Lady Beasley confirmed his words, “although I would have been loath for our girls to miss out on your excellent tutelage.”

Adam and Alice exchanged more than one glance that night. Lady Beasley hadn’t quite understood the severity of the situation.

At the beef and vegetables course, Adam had mused, “My parents looked kindly upon your assistance in allowing us to keep company when you could have easily not allowed it, given the circumstances.”

Lady Beasley appreciated such a statement.

Lady Susanne had been quiet at first. She’d eyed her former governess’s blossoming stomach, draped in the finest satin gown. Eventually, over the pudding course, she said, “When I saw you two kissing, it was not really improper, for you were destined to be married.”

Awkward silence had reigned for a very long moment, and then the two younger girls giggled.

Finally, Alice had said, “That’s exactly correct.” No one made mention of the impropriety again.

In any case, Lady Beasley had offered assistance when the time came for his wife’s labor. As promised, her ladyship had come as soon as Adam sent word, despite it being the middle of the night. But he hadn’t expected the support of Lord Beasley.

“No reason you should punish yourself and sit in a hallway,” his lordship said. Then he tapped his glass to Adam’s, and they drank down a long sip of brandy. “By the way, it becomes easier with each birth.”

“I believe my mother said that.” At least, Adam thought she had. His brain felt a little like warm mush.

Lord Beasley laughed. “I meant for you . I don’t know anything about how —”

Alice cried out again, and Adam was glad he was seated. But then he heard the unmistakable squall of a baby. Jumping to his feet and spilling his brandy for the second time that night, he set his glass down and raced out to the closed door of his bedroom.

Pounding on it, he couldn’t help shouting, “Alice, are you well? The babe is it healthy?”

The door opened, and Lady Susanne blocked his view. Her hair was unusually mussed and her cheeks pale. Apparently, she’d received an education of sorts from his wife after all. It had been a long night and an even longer day.

“Both are fine, my lord,” Lady Susanne promised. “The midwife is just ... uh ... cleaning everyone up.”

She looked over her shoulder, and Adam peered past, seeing a scene of tangled sheets and Alice leaning back on many pillows — perhaps all the pillows they owned in the entire house — to keep her sitting up.

Their eyes locked.

“Let him in, Susanne,” Alice ordered, her voice strong but hoarse.

In three steps, he was beside her, ignoring the mess at the foot of the bed, for his baby was cradled in his wife’s arms.

“You are marvelous,” he said, meaning Alice but equally referring to the infant. Reaching out to touch its head, he stopped just short of the tuft of black fluffy hair. “May I?”

“I think so,” Alice said. She looked spent, her face as pale as Lady Susanne’s but with a bruised look around her eyes. “He’s a boy,” she added, looking down at the bundle in her arms, her face breaking out in a tired smile.

“A boy,” Adam repeated. Finally, he let the tips of his fingers touch his son, stroking his hair, then his cheek. The babe’s eyes were closed, his face red, and he appeared already to be sleeping.

“Peaceful chap,” Adam said.

Alice’s gaze shot to his, her silver-green eyes looking in disbelief. “After what he’s just put me through,” she quipped, “peaceful is the last thing I think of him.”

Then she chuckled. “He does look like a little lamb though, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed.”

Lady Beasley rose from the chair on the other side of the bed. He hadn’t even noticed her for the past few minutes, nor the midwife.

“Congratulations,” her ladyship said. “Your wife handled her first labor superbly,” she said to Adam. “See that she gets some broth or whatever her stomach yearns to eat, but make sure she drinks plenty. It helps with the milk production,” she added when he knew he looked baffled.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Susanne and I will leave you two alone now, but I will return later to make sure you have everything you need.” She nodded to Alice and went to the door. “Do feel at liberty to name the baby after my husband, my lord, since he kept you company. I think it’s a tradition. I’ll collect him on my way out.” With that, she disappeared with Lady Susanne following.

Adam turned to Alice, whose eyes had grown round as saucers.

“Dear God, do we have to?” he asked her. “Just because they were here? Is that a custom?”

Alice shrugged. “I cannot even recall Lord Beasley’s given name.”

However, the midwife was chuckling as she gathered up her things. “Her ladyship is only teasing you, I’m sure,” the woman said. “There’s no such custom to naming that I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank goodness,” Adam said, “for we did have a few ideas of our own.”

The woman left, and it was finally only the three of them.

“Sit, please,” Alice said.

He took the spot beside her on the mattress, and before he realized what she was doing, she handed him their boy.

“Now I can stretch.” Which she did, wincing before reaching over to take the glass of water from beside the bed. “Lady Beasley is correct. I am famished and thirsty. Broth would be lovely, but also some bread and cheese, a cup of tea, and ... oddly, I would adore a cup of cocoa.”

Adam drew the swaddled baby up higher against his chest before leaning down and kissing his forehead.

“You be good,” he told the infant. “I am going to go make sure your mother has all she desires, and then I shall return directly.” He would run to the kitchen as fast as he could to place the order for his hungry wife.

She held her arms out, and he gave her back their son. Placing a kiss on her forehead, too, Adam went to the door.

“I will make sure to fend off any watercress Cook tries to give you.”

He heard Alice’s answering laugh as he left the room. A father now in his own right, Adam asked himself if he felt any different going out the door as to when he had entered the room. Was he more mature, perhaps, and responsible?

No, was his answer. But was it possible for his heart to have grown? For he felt impossibly full of love, choked on it, in fact, making him clear his throat while tears sprang to his eyes.

A brand-new Diamond had entered the world, and by God, the little gem was his!