Page 7 of Duchess Material

Winston nodded. He didn’t want her to finish. It was as if she would speak what they did into existence and label it. And if she labelled it, what if it was just sex and she felt nothing for him?

“If it is… I think I need to move out because… this is awkward for you—”

“Luce, if we are having a baby, why would you move out?” Winston chuckled, nervously.

“Because we’re not having anything. I’m having a baby and if you don’t want anything to do with it—”

“Lucy Chandler, I love you. I told you. I am not blowin’ smoke up yer arse!”

“You sound remarkably Scottish. I’m momentarily confused.”

“I am. It comes out when I’m nervous.”

“See, you’re nervous—”

“I may have just found out I would be a dad! I think it’s warranted, Luce.”

Lucy shook her head. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. It’s going to be a scandal. What if Natalie has to fire me?”

“She wouldn’t sack you. Why?”

“Her Dad is going to lose his mind.”

“His daughter’s boyfriend is shirtless on a billboard in Piccadilly Circus. He has worse things to complain about,” Winston said.

“What?”

Winston groaned. “You missed some things.”

“I can see.”

Winston held her hand. “If it is, I’m here for you. Whatever you decide to do. I would never fault you for this. I love you, Lucy. If you want to move out, I must respect it. Of course, I’d rather you stayed here so I could, you know, parent the baby. Also, take care of you.”

“Winston, what are we going to do?”

“We have four dogs. We’ll be the mad people with four dogs and a baby.”

“You make it sound lovely.” Lucy laughed through tears.

“Because it is. Or rather will be, Luce.”

She smiled and touched his cheek. “You are so sweet. I don’t deserve you, Winston Ferguson.”

“You do.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss. It still felt new, but it was good.

She pulled away. “You probably assumed things were going down tonight, but I am so, so tired. All I want to do is crawl into bed. Test tomorrow. Sleep tonight.”

Winston kissed her head. “I am bringing you some food, tucking you in, and putting you to bed with Frida. We’ll run to Boots tomorrow.”

* * *

Ed and Natalie stirred at a knock. They were lying peacefully. Natalie was her most adoring after sex. She would spend all day endlessly tracing lines up and down Ed’s chest. He loved it but would never admit to how much he loved it. It was odd. She could be so prickly around other people. Here, she was sweet and calm. She was all his.

“Yes?” Natalie called out.

“Oh, it’s Dad. I’m sorry, were you asleep? I brought a good whisky. Thought we could chat. Celebrate your tour’s success?” It was King Robert.

Because, of course, it was.

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