CHAPTER14
“Oh, Ethan, look,” Verity cried, sitting up on the blanket and clapping. “Thomas is walking without falling over or having to hold on.”
Sweet relief filled her. She had been worried that Thomas was not yet walking, considering he was already thirteen months old. The family physician the duke had brought to check Thomas over had said the baby was quite fine and developing well, and to simply give him more room to move about, without hovering.
Little Thomas chortled and ran about the lawns as if he had just discovered freedom and had no intention of stopping soon. His nursemaid watched him, even hurrying to gather him up when he took a tumble. He wriggled, and she set him back down with a laugh, and he was off again. Only a few days ago, he had called Verity mama, to her shocked delight. Verity had appalled herself by bursting into tears, and Ethan had laughed and hugged her to him.
“He is getting so big,” she whispered.
“He is,” Ethan said drolly. “Soon he will be wenching and cavorting around town.”
With a gasp, she tossed a piece of apple at him, and he laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her to him. She landed on his chest with a soft cry.
“No sons of ours will be wenching and cavorting. They will be perfect gentlemen,” she said pertly, wrapping her arms around his nape.
Ethan kissed her tenderly. Her heart squeezed. Though her duke was so attentive, and even stared at her with hunger and longing, he had never expressed romantic words. Verity kept reminding herself that he was a practical man and might never give her any such sentiments. Still, she found that she longed to hear the words from him, and be reassured that he might hold some affection for her beyond his dutiful responsibilities to her. Especially when she was already so desperately in love with the man.
“Whatever my duchess says, I will ensure it is done.” He reposed on the mountains of cushions, scandalously curving her into the crook of his arms. “Shall we return to reading while Thomas discovers the beauty of his little legs?”
“Yes,” she said with a light laugh. Today, the weather was glorious, and they had picnicked on the lawns, taking turns reading The Orphan of the Rhine by Elizabeth Sleath. Ethan’s voice was perfect for reading, and she found herself enraptured and on edge as she listened to the gothic tale unfold.
* * *
As she preparedfor their evening dinner, Verity debated which of her new gowns to wear. The door to her chamber opened, and Matilda entered. She helped Verity dress in her stays, chemisette, and a lovely rose-colored gown with a charming decolletage. As Matilda styled her hair, Verity noted she appeared anxious.
“Is all well, Matilda?”
She hesitated. “It is just that, Your Grace, the duke has received a woman caller, and she is scandalously sobbing on him and crying that she cannot believe he is married.”
The breath stilled inside Verity’s chest. “I beg your pardon?”
Matilda hurriedly bobbed in an apologetic curtsy. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say anything,” she rushed to say, putting in the finishing touches on Verity’s chignon.
“I…” Verity took a deep breath. “It is fine, Matilda. Where is the duke seeing this…lady?”
“In the drawing room, your ladyship.”
Verity strolled down the winding staircase and made her way to the drawing room, aware of feeling apprehensive. Ethan had left the door ajar, and some of the tightness eased that she hadn’t realized sat on her chest. She stood framed in the doorway, staring at the ravishing red-haired beauty who cried piteously as she stared at the duke, who returned her regard with chilling insouciance.
“You are being cruel, Ethan, darling,” she said. “I traveled from Bath as soon as I heard the news. I did not return to town to receive your missive, ending our liaison. Surely you can forgive me for traveling down without notice, and put me up for the night.”
Good heavens. It was his former mistress, and given the lateness of the hour, she expected to sleep under their roof for the night. Though Verity’s belly knotted, it would surely be uncharitable to turn the woman away. It was already close to six in the evening, and the sky had taken on an overcast view.
“There is an inn not too far from here,” he said, “I am certain there will be rooms.”
As she was about to announce her presence, the lady said, “Is it that you are afraid for me to meet your wife?”
Ethan arched a brow. “You truly give yourself too much importance.”
“I still cannot believe you married her sister,” the lady hissed.
“It is no business of yours,” he said coolly.
“What if your wife really returns with her pistol,” the lady demanded scathingly. “Will you allow her to shoot me?”
“If it is her prerogative,” he said casually. “You did attempt to kiss me despite being assured that I am blissfully wedded.”
Verity almost choked. He had told the lady she might shoot her. Verity almost laughed, recalling her promise to duel anyone who offended their vows; however, there was a fearful feeling upon her heart. Did this lady know Catherine?