Page 95 of The Viscount's Unwanted Bride
She studied him with interest. “So,you’rethe one who compromised me.”
Nicholas’s gaze shot to Theo’s as if searching for help. Theo just smirked.
Nicholas cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about that too.”
She laughed softly. “I’m not. I’m still mad at both of you, but perhaps it was fate that the timing worked out so abominably for us because I doubt I could have respected or admired any of the other men of thetonas much as I do Theo. I’m fortunate to be able to call him my husband.”
Nicholas’s eyebrows flew up. “Theo, is it?”
“Indeed,” she said primly. She wasn’t giving him any more than that. Not yet anyway. “Sit and tell me about yourself, Nicholas.”
Nicholas sat, and they chatted until her eyes were too heavy to remain open for any longer. She closed them and listened to the brothers talk as her consciousness faded out.
A while later, she opened her eyes. A large body was pressed along the length of hers, one arm slung over her waist. She snuggled closer to Theo, taking comfort from his nearness.
The fire had died, and the room was shrouded in shadow. She closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar minty scent.
“I love you,” she whispered into the dark.
She’d been afraid to admit it earlier, too stunned by his revelation to reciprocate. Now, despite the lies and fears between them, she needed to say the words aloud.
She did love him. She’d probably fallen for him far earlier than was wise. She’d never expected to win his heart, since he’d made it clear that he’d loved Elizabeth, but the fact that he did—that he’d made space for her in his heart too—was more than she’d dreamed of.
She’d tell him so too. Just not when he might think it was a result of taking a solid knock to the head.
Perhaps tomorrow.
Or maybe she’d make him squirm for a little about his lies first.
CHAPTER 30
Oxfordshire
April 1823
Theo slippedhis hand into Kate’s, needing the physical connection between them as they waited for Dr. Hanson to arrive for the examination.
“Whatever happens, we’ll be all right,” Kate murmured, her clear gray eyes locking on his.
He swallowed past a lump in his throat. God, he hoped she was right. He supposed he’d just have to have faith that she was.
The past two months had been like a happy dream. Her belly had continued to grow and so had the bond between them. They’d spent hours together, getting to know each other better.
He’d started writing poetry again, although he’d forgotten how to structure poems well, so his progress was slow. She’d shown him some of the paintings she was most proud of, and they’d put one on the wall in the dining room and another on the wall in her bedchamber.
He glanced at that painting now, admiring the bright shades of the flowers along the side of a stream. Apparently, the spot was one of her favorites at the Longley estate in Suffolk.
“I’m sure you’re right,” he said, dragging his attention back to her.
He’d tried not to hover over her quite so much after she recovered from the carriage accident, but when his anxiety got too much for him and he couldn’t resist fussing, she just smiled, amusement in her eyes, and let him do whatever he needed to reassure himself that she was whole, happy, and healthy.
Her good spirits never seemed to wane, and his fear that she would sink into melancholy as Elizabeth had was gradually fading.
They’d made it through the first few months of pregnancy without incident—or so it seemed. None of Elizabeth’s pregnancies had progressed this far. According to Dr. Hanson, the risk of something going wrong diminished after the first three months. Every time he felt himself start to panic, he reminded himself of that.
“Are you… disappointed not to spend more time in your bedchamber?” he asked, looking around at the rose pink of the walls threaded through with the spidery lines of a dark blue and white pattern. The drapes were almost the same shade of blue as the accents in the wallpaper, and the bedspread was made from a similar fabric to the drapes.
Kate rested her head on his shoulder. They were propped up side by side against the headboard of her bed. “It’s nice to have my own space, but I rather like spending my nights with you.”
