The Widowed Countess by Linda Rae Sande Read Free Book Online Page A

forgiven his frequent explorations except he hadn’t yet seen to arranging a suitable marriage for his younger sister, Lady Evangeline. He promised himself he would see her settled before he took off on another trip. Grandby was quite certain a marriage was in the cards – as the girl’s godfather, he had made it clear to Everly that further delays would not be tolerated. If Everly didn’t have someone in mind soon and see to it a courtship was in the cards, Grandby would deck him.
    Everly took a look at his cards and was about to scold Barrings for his bad deal when he decided he might be able to bluff his way through this hand.
    “Thank you, Everly,” Barrings acknowledged the mention of his race horse’s recent success with a nod. “No, gentleman, my wife has seen to it I will be a father. Probably before Parliament reconvenes in the fall,” he stated proudly. He picked up his own cards, giving them a quick glance before looking up to accept congratulations from around the table.
    “Mary will be relieved to hear of it,” Sir Richard commented, his attention on his cards. “Only last week, she claimed your wife looked as if she was eating a few too many cakes at tea.”
    Grandby had to stifle a chuckle at the comment lest he be discovered listening. Just last week, he’d made a similar comment to Adele, although he was careful to add that he rather liked her with a bit more meat on her bones. She’d been far too thin when they married.
    Barrings gave Sir Richard a nod. “Well, she is, at that, but she is eating for two now,” he commented, his proud grin never leaving his face, even as he was forced to fold.
    “She’ll be in good company,” Sommers commented as he considered his hand and the growing pile of chips in the center of the table. “Seems there will be a crop of heirs born this fall.”
    Everly looked up from his hand, deciding he might not be able to bluff his way through this hand. “That would be due to that nasty snowstorm we had last December, just after Christmas,” he stated with some authority.
    Barrings made a sound that could best be described as a snort. “As I understand these matters, Everly, snow had nothing to do with it.”
    The other three gentlemen guffawed in response. “Oh, yes it does. What else are you going to do when you’re trapped in your country estate for three straight days?” Sommers asked, making a rude gesture with his hands.
    “And your wife complains of boredom and the cold?” Sir Richard added rhetorically, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.
    “I daresay, I remember wishing I was married during that long week,” Sommers murmured as he pretended to study his cards, thinking he still wished he was married. All his friends were. And now they were about to become fathers.
    In the middle to taking a sip of brandy, Grandby stilled his movements. Sommers wished he was married. Lady Evangeline Everly needed a husband.
    And there was that snowstorm. 
    He held the brandy on his tongue for a very long time, finally swallowing when the alcohol threatened to burn a hole his mouth. He remembered that snowstorm quite clearly. Remembered where he was during the second and third days of it. Remembered where Adele had been – usually under him, although there had been those rather delightful times when she was on top of him – and he suddenly realized why it was she looked as if she’d been eating a few too many cakes at tea.
    Lord Everly, having taken a sudden interest in Jeffrey Althorpe’s quiet declaration that he wished he was married, decided his bluff definitely wouldn’t work and folded. He turned to the baron and lowered his voice. “If I might have a word with you when we’re done here tonight?” When Sommers gave him a noncommittal shrug in response, Everly piped up and said, “Be prepared to bed your wife more frequently, Barrings. Her appetite for your favors will be insatiable. At least, it is for most of the females of our species when they