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For sometimes, that was the choice laid out by doctors who could find no other way.

He could not allow himself to think so many months ahead. He could not allow himself to think of when their child was two, or four, or six, or any age in which pestilence might come and cut them down.

Or an accident.

He’d seen loss before, and he was terrified that he might see it again. He would not survive it. He’d known in theory that he would get an heir. It was imperative, but he had avoided it. And now as he stood in the cavernous library of the Earl of Argyle, he knew why.

He’d neveractuallyplanned on marrying.

He’d neveractuallyplanned on having an heir. He was simply going to insist that he would until the day he died. That was the truth and one action, one foolish action, had forced his hand.

He’d thought he’d been so careful by spilling his seed outside her womb. What a fool he was!

In this case, it seemed that no matter how he had tried to prevent such a thing, it had been beyond his limited control.

Just as his children had been taken, a child had been brought to life.

“I’m taking her to the country,” he stated. “Away from the city.”

“Good, but be careful there as well.” Argyle hesitated, as if not quite sure how to say what needed to be said. “You don’t wish her to spend too much time with her thoughts, and there will not be a great deal for her to do unless yougiveher things to do. You must allow her to become important there.”

He nodded again. He felt as if he was swimming through thick water, barely able to hear or make sense of his life.

“When will she become the duchess?” his friend asked. “I assume you’re not planning on a great marriage at Westminster or St. Paul’s.”

“No, I don’t think she would like it,” he breathed. “She doesn’t really like the idea of showing the world that she’s been maneuvered into such a position.”

“She maneuvered herself,” Argyle pointed out gently.

“We both did,” he corrected. “I… I’m not certain how to take all of this in.”

“I know,” Argyle said softly. “I know, friend. I know this was not what you thought would happen, but itiswhat’s happening. You’re writing to the brother, of course.”

He blew out a derisive breath. “I’ve already done it. Thank God he’s terrified of me. I can’t imagine that he’ll say anything except for possibly asking for coin.”

“Would he dare?” Argyle asked, disgust creasing his scarred face.

“Oh, he would. He would dare,” Blackwood returned.

Argyle’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Well, I could always make a trip abroad and kill him for you.”

He wanted to laugh. His friend was trying to lift him up, and Argyle was also serious. He’d do it if asked. “You could, but I don’t think that would be productive,” Garret admitted. “He’s not going to come back. It’s not a concern of mine, nor should it be of yours. I have a man watching him in Venice. He drinks like a fish and whores all day. He’s actually content. As long as I keep him supplied with coin, he’ll not bother us.”

“Good,” Argyle said. “How simple some men are.”

“We are departing for the country as soon I return to the town house. Will you come to the wedding?”

Argyle tensed. “You know I won’t.”

“I did have a suspicion that you wouldn’t,” he said quietly. “I wish you would.”

“Thank you, my friend. I’m glad that you wish me to be at such a moment in your life,” Argyle said honestly but without relent. “Write to me every day. Tell me how things are going, and if you need me to come to the country quietly, I will whip you into shape if absolutely necessary. But please don’t call me unless necessary.”

Argyle glanced to the windows, and despite his muscled form, he looked afraid. “I don’t like to leave my house.”

“I’ll respect your wishes,” Garret said, though he longed to change the world to accept his friend for the great man that he was. “Can you at least wish me luck?”

“No,” Argyle said, swinging his gaze back to Garret.


Tags: Eva Devon Historical