Chapter Thirty-Five

" N onsense!" Alex nearly blurted, but wasn't that why he was there? If she did see things or know things, ludicrous as that seemed, then she might be able to tell him what he needed to know.

"I can tell by your face you are skeptical. That's all right, my lord. Come in and sit down. How's the little Lord Thomas?"

When they were seated in her small parlor and he'd declined the offer of tea, she said, "Tell me why you wanted to speak with me."

Suddenly, he felt beyond foolish. He didn't believe in fortune-tellers or mystics. Wouldn't she know why he was there? Yet her kind eyes were staring into his with interest, and so he answered.

"I want to know why my parents died."

She cocked her head, looking unruffled. "They died in a carriage accident, did they not?"

"But I didn't. Here I sit."

"I think I understand," she said. "I cannot tell you that they were destined to die, and it was the natural way of things. That's not for me to know. But you lived, and now you have produced a son. That means the thread of your life was not meant to be cut along with your parents'."

"Can you tell me if Clarity and our son will be safe?" That was uppermost in his mind.

She sighed. "You want me to tell you they will live long and happy lives, yes?"

He nodded. When a shadow passed over her face, a stitch of fear threaded itself into his heart. But Mrs. Boswell did not make a pronouncement of doom.

"The length of someone's life depends on a great many things. But I can see much happiness for many years if that gives you comfort."

Again, he nodded.

"I notice you didn't ask me about the longevity of your life," she said, looking bemused.

Alex shrugged.

"You care more about those you love than you do for yourself. That's admirable. But if you've learned anything from your parents' accident, it should be that we have little control over our fate."

He disagreed. "Surely, we can be careful instead of reckless."

"Yes, my lord. But there's nothing reckless about enjoying your life each week from Monday through washing day. And since you did survive, it would behoove you not to waste the time you have, don't you think? Nor try to put limitations on those you love. That won't keep them safe, only make them miserable."

Mrs. Boswell knew a lot , he decided. But not anything more than any other sensible person. He rose to his feet, ready to get back to the manor and reclaim his sanity.

"Before you go," she said as she, too, stood, "I'll tell you something else. I remember your parents when they visited. I was at the manor more than once doing midwifery duties for Lady Diamond when Lord and Lady Hollidge came. They had a distinctly happy nature, light and pleasant. People wanted to be around them. Do you agree?"

"I do." He still heard from members of his club how much they missed his father's company for those very reasons.

"You can be that way, too, my lord, as you were when you were a boy. Your happiness is in here." She tapped her chest over her own heart.

Alex swallowed hard. No one had said those words to him before, and yet they made profound sense.

"I do think it's interesting that you found Lady Clarity going into labor in a carriage, don't you?" Mrs. Boswell asked, as if she knew about his nightmares.

Alex caught his breath. He had spent no small amount of time pondering that fact. And even though a few nights had passed since then, he hadn't had a single terrifying carriage dream. He could almost imagine his parents had arranged it in order that one incident would eradicate the tragedy of the other.

"By the way, you and Lady Clarity will have more babies."

"A safe prediction," he said, but his heart felt warm with the notion of a house full of their children.

"Mayhap, but I am usually correct, and I would say sooner, rather than later. Just as I knew she would be your wife and no one else's."

"Thank you," he said.

"No need, my lord." Then she smiled. "Keep your wife close and treat her the way your heart wants to, with utter adoration. She is worthy of it."

Mrs. Boswell had a twinkle in her eye as she saw him to her door.

"And in case you forget again," she added, raising a round eyebrow, "Lady Clarity is as strong as her family name."

On the ride back to the manor house, Alex considered how he'd treated Clarity like fragile, thin glass instead of like an enduring diamond. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

Half past midnight , the house was quiet, but Clarity had spent so much time resting, she couldn't sleep. Besides, after months of being wedded, it still felt strange to be in bed alone. Baby Thomas was asleep in the nursery, and she decided to go along and see him. Yet strangely, she ended up outside Alex's door.

Hesitating, she decided not to knock before entering. He was her husband, after all. If she wanted to see him, she could, even if he was fast asleep.

Pushing the door open, in the light of the moon, she saw Alex sprawled in bed, one arm over his eyes. His other arm was stretched out with his hand pressed upon the mattress where normally she ought to be.

Longing, sweet and strong, curled inside her. Approaching the bed, she gazed down on the peaceful, handsome face of the man she loved. It was difficult to remember why she had ever left him.

Except she did recall. He thought her incompetent and weak. And his aunt was the female who controlled their household. Would it be any different once she returned with the new heir, or would she be pushed further aside?

With her womanly parts still sore, she couldn't even make love to him the way she wanted to. With a sigh, she turned away.

"Clarity," his voice broke the silence, sounding rich and warm. Its timbre sent a sizzle of desire dancing down her spine.

"Come to bed with me," he said.

When she looked back at him, he was raised upon his elbows, with the bedsheets and blanket fallen down, exposing his chest.

How she loved to run her fingers over his chest!

"What if the baby needs me?" she asked, although she desperately wanted to slip under the covers and nestle close.

"Winnie will come find you. It can't be that difficult to figure out you're in my room."

Deciding he was correct, Clarity returned to the bed. He slid over and lifted the covers, allowing her to climb under.

As soon as she was beside him, he turned on his side and tucked her against his warm front before wrapping his strong arm over her hip.

Since her family had arrived, they hadn't had a moment alone. Lying quietly, held against his body, she wanted nothing more. Feeling his breath on her neck and his chest rise and fall, Clarity closed her eyes and let her own breathing match his.

"Did you want to speak to me?" His voice seemed to rumble against her.

She did, but right then, she didn't.

"Not really. I didn't think I could sleep, but now I'm with you, I feel relaxed."

He pressed his mouth to the top of her head and spoke against her hair, making her smile.

"With you in my arms again, everything seems as it should be," he said, his lips warming her scalp.

And then neither of them spoke again until many hours later. As Alex expected, her maid Winnie awakened them with a tap on the door before her head of curls poked into the room when he bid her come in.

"Master Thomas is up and roaring for his mother," she said cheerfully.

"Bring him in," Alex said.

In short order, Clarity found herself in bed with both her husband and her son, not to mention a beaming maid looking on.

She knew they were both waiting for her to lower the side of her nightdress and let the baby latch on. For some reason, it was not the same as when Mrs. Boswell was there, or perhaps it was because she and Alex were in bed. Whatever it was, it seemed indecent to expose herself in front of both her maid and her husband.

Whatever it was, she needed to get one of the other adults out of the room.

"Please ask Mrs. Dilbert to send up a pot of tea and some buttered toast?"

"Yes, my lady." Winnie disappeared in a swirl of her skirts and apron.

Clarity could see out of the side of her eye that Alex was watching her as Thomas pressed his face to her breast still covered by her gown. Moreover, Clarity couldn't help noticing her breasts felt decidedly different from when she'd lain down the night before.

When she hesitated still, Alex said, "Don't pay any attention to me. Go ahead."

She glanced at him. "Stop staring at me, and I shall."

He grinned.

"And stop smiling like that," she snapped. "You look too desirable, and this is a serious matter of me feeding our son."

"Serious?" He looked puzzled.

"In case I cannot do it. I don't want him to starve."

He shook his head while she slid her nightgown down one side and fumbled with Thomas, who was rooting against her skin until she led him to her nipple. He latched on with ease.

"Mrs. Boswell said my milk should be in any day now and —" Clarity interrupted herself. "Oh!"

"Is aught wrong?" Alex asked, leaning closer.

"No, quite the opposite." Clarity experienced a tingling sensation in both breasts, precisely as Mrs. Boswell had described. "I believe he's feeding at last."

At that moment, Thomas made a distinct slurping sound as he sucked.

Her gaze flew to Alex's again, and this time they both smiled.

"He's a noisy little babe," her husband said, sounding delighted.

For her part, relief trickled through her, and then she realized while Thomas was upon her left breast, milk was trickling from her right nipple.

As she glanced down at her nightdress growing damp, Alex followed her gaze. Clarity cheeks heated with embarrassment when her husband brushed his knuckle against the milk-sodden, fine cotton chemise.

"It seems you need another baby," he said.

She shuddered at the notion of having one on each breast.

"I vow I would feel like a cat with kittens," Clarity remarked. "When Thomas has had about ten minutes, then I shall put him on the other side. That's what Mrs. Boswell told me to do."

They both looked at the mantel clock, which the housemaid would dutifully wind when she tidied the room.

Alex leaned back against the headboard. "Now that you can put aside the silly notion you might be incapable of feeding our son, I guess we have some time to talk."

Clarity had hoped for the chance to do exactly that, yet faced with a frank conversation, she almost wished they could simply remain silent. If he was going to tell her how she fell short of being a good viscountess, then she would have to tell him firmly to go jump in the river and soak his head.

"You first," she said.

"Very well. I love you more than I can properly express. I'm sorry I drove you away, and I want you to come home with me as soon as you feel ready to travel."

Clarity expelled a pent-up breath. "Well!"

"Well, what?" he asked, reaching out to place a hand on Thomas's little swaddled back.

"I did not expect any of that," she confessed.

"Really? Why did you think I came after you?"

She decided to be honest. "Because you were immensely annoyed with me and wanted to tell me off for being such a great disappointment to you as a wife."

"Dear God!" he exclaimed. "Was that truly what you were thinking?"

"Mostly, yes. After what I heard you say to my parents about my needing to grow up. I am probably as grown up as I shall ever be, Alex. You must accept me as I am."

"I do." He sounded sincere. "I didn't know you heard any of that, but I couldn't explain to them my fear of losing you. Somewhat irrational, I believe now. And thus, I made it your fault that I was overly worried."

"I think I'm going to switch the baby now," she said while taking a moment to digest his unexpected words.

When Thomas was comfortably sucking upon her other nipple, she spared Alex another glance to find he was attentively watching everything.

"Besides," he said, "if I was annoyed with you instead of desperately missing you and feeling terribly sorry for how I drove you away, then I could have written that in a letter, kept my distance, and hoped you never returned."

How devastating it would have been to receive such a letter, she thought.

"Do you have anything you wish to say to me?" he asked.

Clarity took a deep breath, then expelled it. "I still want what I've always wanted, which is to make you happy. However, I realized over the past few months that I cannot do it."

His instantly distraught expression squeezed her heart. "What are you saying?" he asked. "Are you finished with being Lady Hollidge?"