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

are breeding.” A hearty round of laughter erupted from the table as Barrings’ back was slapped and pounded.
    Grandby’s heart pounded in his chest. His pulse pounded in his head. How did Everly know such things? He wasn’t married. Grandby’s breaths came a bit too quickly. He stared at his cheroot as if he didn’t recognize it. I’m going to be a father . The words, barely formed in his mind, repeated themselves with a bit more certainty.
    Downing the rest of his brandy as if he’d spent a week in the desert, he stubbed out his cheroot and quickly made his way to his coach, his early exit from the club causing one of the butlers to pick up and study a mantle clock to ensure it still worked. The footman on the back of his coach did a double-take. “My lord?” he managed to get out as he moved to open the door and set down the steps.
    “Stedman and Vardon in Bond Street, and make it fast,” Grandby ordered, stepping into his coach. He was barely seated when the coach lurched forward to make its way up St. James Street. He took the opportunity to breathe, feeling rather proud that he had enough sense to stop at a jewelers to secure a rather expensive bauble before heading home for dinner. I’m going to be a father , he thought again. For a man of his age – he was in his forties – to marry a widow – who, as near as he could tell was in her thirties – to discover he was going to be a father, was, well, it wasn’t exactly a miracle, he knew. Lord Seward had fathered his fourth son when he was in his seventies, and although some claimed he’d had a bit of help in that regard (there had been rumors he’d been cuckolded by his wife), the boy was the spitting image of him. Poor child.
    But for Grandby to think of himself as a father was ... unthinkable. He was the godfather to the ton’s sons and daughters, not a father .
    Adele, bless her heart .
    Why hadn’t she said anything? Was she afraid he wouldn’t want a child? She must have known he needed an heir. Was she waiting for the right time to tell him? Perhaps she intended to tell him tonight during dinner. She’d said something about arranging for his favorite meal to be served that evening. Or did she even know she was expecting?
    That last thought had him pausing suddenly. There was something different, he was sure now. It wasn’t just that she had put on a few pounds. She was ... more beautiful, to be sure, her smile more radiant. And she was certainly more willing to be bedded. Christ, she’d been in his bed as much as he’d been in hers this past month or so!
    What had Everly said?
    Be prepared to bed your wife more frequently. Her appetite for your favors will be insatiable .
    He was still ruminating on insatiable appetites when the coach came to a stop in front of the goldsmith’s shop. He was out of the coach before the footman could even move to get the door open, hurrying into the shop at Number 36. Scanning one of the display cases, he wondered what would be appropriate. He’d never bought jewelry for a an expectant wife before. Necklace? Bracelet? Ear bobs? Brooch? All of the above? And with what gemstone?
    “May I be of assistance, my lord?” Mr. Stedman wondered, stepping up to the counter where Grandby’s attention was directed at a collection of necklaces displayed on black velvet.
    When Grandby looked up, a panicked expression on his face, one of Stedman’s eyebrows lifted. “Have you forgotten a special occasion, perhaps?” he asked sotto voce. The jeweler noted Grandby’s nervousness. “Or, is there one about to occur?”
    “Yes,” Grandby replied with a quick nod of his head. Not knowing if Stedman could be trusted to keep a secret, Grandby was trying to decide how to broach the subject of an appropriate gift.
    “Does it involve your ... wife?” Stedman ventured. He had to be careful – too many men of the ton purchased baubles for their mistresses – usually of better quality than the ones they purchased for