Finn poured a whiskey and tossed it back. The door to his study opened without a knock. “Are you angry?” Lady Ramsdale asked.
“Angry?” Finn said as he set his glass down. He was giddy with excitement. He strode quickly across the room and spun Lady Ramsdale around in a quick circle. “Are you bound for Bedlam? I’m going to be a father. I couldn’t be happier.”
Lady Ramsdale smiled as soon as she got over the shock of being spun around. “She’s afraid you’re angry at her.”
Anger was the last thing he felt. “I’ll go talk to her. I just needed a moment.”
She arched a brow at him. “And whiskey.”
“Where is your husband?”
“At Ramsdale House. Asleep.”
She knew. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
“I had a feeling.” She went on to clarify, “Claire missed her menses for several months. Why do you think we stayed in the land of the fae so long?”
“Does your husband know?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Do we have to tell him?”
She grinned. “I would suggest after the wedding.”
“Great idea.” He looked at her closely. She really was a lovely woman. And Claire did favor her. “Thank you for coming. You’re the only one she wanted.”
Her eyes welled with tears. “Thank you for telling me that.” Emotion choked her. “I’ll see myself out.”
Finn walked slowly back up the stairs. He opened the door to his bedchamber to find Claire had dozed off. Her face was blotchy and streaked with tears. He took off his clothes and slid beneath the counterpane with her. She stirred as he rolled her toward him. “Finn?” she asked, her voice groggy with sleep. And tears.
He pulled the counterpane lower and unbelted his dressing gown, which she still wore. In the low light of the room, he could see her looking down at him, as he looked at her no-longer-flat stomach. It was ever so slightly rounded. He ran his fingers over her flesh, which teemed with the life they’d created.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He bent and placed his lips to her belly. Then moved up and kissed her lips just as softly. “I’m not,” he said.
Claire began to cry, softly this time, not the great wrenching sobs of the moments before. Finn rolled her to the side and pulled her back against him, until she fit him like two spoons in a drawer. He placed a hand on her belly, his son or daughter, and said, “Sleep, Claire.”
“You’re not angry at me?” she asked, her voice raw with emotion.
“Sleep, Claire.” He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in.
Twenty-Eight
Finn paced back and forth in front of his brother’s home, unsure of how to proceed. He’d never felt so out of sorts in all his life, and he’d been in some precarious situations before. In his head, he had three problems.
One—It was obvious that Mayden had set his sights on Claire. Mayden had known Claire played the part of Mrs. Abercrombie. Finn’s guess was that Colette herself had told him. They were acquaintances from way back, which was one of the many reasons Finn had stopped sleeping with her when he did. Then Colette had decided to impersonate Claire impersonating Mrs. Abercrombie, much to her misfortune. He’d used Colette as a warning to Finn. But the threat was still real.
Two—He needed to marry Claire sooner rather than later. Her father wouldn’t appreciate that. He would probably be spitting mad. But Finn didn’t want to wait two more weeks for the reading of the banns.
Three—He needed to confess that Claire was increasing and that it was his child. He wouldn’t have anyone assume anything else. He just couldn’t. He had to let everyone know that the baby was his, even if it would be a six-month pregnancy.
A voice rang out from the shrubbery. “Are you going to pace outside all day or knock on the door?” Ronald, the garden gnome, was in the bushes.
“Sod off, Ronald,” Finn grumbled.
Ronald stepped out of the foliage and grinned. “You’re all out of sorts. Anything the matter?”