Page 111 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
Unfortunately, Vaughan arrived before the tea did.
He strode into the room, his back determinedly straight, his complexion somewhat waxy. Judging from the lack of wobble to his steps, he was sober, but he didn’t look well. Semicircles darkened the skin beneath his eyes, and his hair was ruffled as if he’d been riding in the wind.
He smiled at her, and despite his ill appearance, his smile, at least, was genuine.
“I’m so pleased to see you,” he said as she rose to her feet.
He took her hand and, to her utter amazement, kissed the back of it. She blinked dazedly. He’d never kissed her hand before. What did it mean? And why now?
“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing toward the chaise.
She sat. She expected him to take the chaise kitty-corner to this one, but instead he parked his bottom right next to her.
A woman Emma assumed was the housekeeper bustled in, carrying a tray laden with tea. She set it on the table in front of them and straightened.
“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?” she asked.
“Cake, please, Mrs. Williams,” Vaughan said, winking at Emma.
Winking.
What was the world coming to?
As the housekeeper left, he turned to Emma. “May I pour your tea?”
She hesitated. In all her life, never once had a man poured tea for her. But then, this wasn’t just any man. This was her husband.
“Yes, please.” Her voice was husky, but she couldn’t help it.
Vaughan picked up the teapot and carefully filled one teacup and then the other. He added a teaspoon of sugar to hers and stirred. When he passed it to her, Emma took it automatically.
She placed the teacup on the table and adjusted her skirt. Then, having nothing else to do with her hands, she picked it up again, raised it to her lips, blew across the surface of the tea, and sipped.
“Did I make it the right way?” he asked, uncharacteristically hesitant.
“It’s perfect,” she assured him.
“Good.” His face brightened. “So, what brings you to London?”
Emma almost laughed at how ridiculous it was that they sounded like polite strangers. Only a couple of weeks ago, she’d fallen apart in his arms.
She put her teacup down. “I believe I may be with child.”
His smile broadened, and his entire being seemed to light up. She reared back, surprised. She’d expected him to be pleased because the purpose of marrying had been to obtain an heir, but he seemed more than pleased. He looked delighted.
And not just for the sake of continuing the ducal bloodline.
He shot to his feet and swept her into his arms. Then, before she could react, he peppered her face with kisses. She giggled, unable to contain the joy that his reaction brought her.
“This is the best news you could have given me,” he said, easing his hold on her but not letting her go entirely. “When will we know for certain?”
She gazed into his pale eyes, which were crinkled at the corner and shining with emotion.
“My courses are a few weeks late,” she said. “Another couple of weeks, and we can be reasonably sure. Especially if I begin to experience sickness.”
“I hope you won’t suffer much,” he said, his worry warming her. The corners of his mouth lifted as if he couldn’t help it. “You have made me a very happy man.”
“I’m glad.”
