Miss Winters Proposes (14 page)

But she had tasted true joy, had reveled in the sublime merriment wrought by a deep love and affection. Anything less was…well, muted. And not nearly as fulfilling.

Mr. Meadowcroft peered over his china cup before setting it down onto the polished table in front of him. “I shall relay your message. Though, whether or not Eleanor chooses to believe me, I cannot say.”

Juliet gave him a small smile. “Fair enough. Now, what do you say we introduce you to your new pup? He’s a truly fine example of his breed, and one that will have your neighbors turning green with envy.”

…

Benjamin paced in front of his study window, his long strides enjoyed by Artemis who walked beside him, her wet nose seeking out his palm and provoking the slightest hint of amusement.

“My lord?”

He glanced toward the entry of the large room. His butler stood, his white-gloved hands at his side. “Mr. Meadowcroft is here to see you.”

Meadowcroft?

A month past, he had received word of Eleanor’s delivery. His besotted brother-in-law did not venture far from her side, especially after such a momentous occasion. Unless, of course, he was willed to do so by his stubborn, and exceptionally determined, wife.

Damn and perdition.

Benjamin’s eyes rolled heavenward, a little sigh escaping his mouth. He could not escape the man’s inquiries and he damn well knew it. Nodding to his butler, he motioned for Meadowcroft’s entrance.

A sharp nip rent the air and a blur of white-and-brown fur skittered past his feet to where Artemis stood erect, her entire body rigid and alert.

What the devil?

“Meadowcroft?”

“Ah, Colwyn. It seems you have met Cesar, my new hunting companion.”

He glanced from Meadowcroft to the hound. The pointer’s exquisite lines, its polished coat, its lean build and broad head shape, all bespoke of a talented breeder—and a very recognizable line. “Cleo.”

“Cesar is perfection, isn’t he? But then, what else can you expect from such an amazing dam?”

Benjamin knelt down and ran his hand over the pup. His damp nose nuzzled into Benjamin’s waistcoat. “Juliet.”

Meadowcroft mimicked Benjamin’s actions, kneeling down to better play with the two inquisitive and active hounds. “She is becoming quite the breeder in her own right, Colwyn. Her litter sold before the pups were even born.”

Benjamin’s lips lifted. His spirited, passionate viscountess had done what he could not—had soared above disappointment and calamity, and rose victorious.

He turned toward his brother-in-law. “You’ve seen her? Juliet?”

“I have.”

“And how is she faring?” Benjamin’s heart hammered in his ears.

“Well, Colwyn. The viscountess does well.”

Benjamin stood and stared outside the window at the green flowers emerging from their spring buds to summer prime, much like his soul months after the Christmas debacle.

He had everything he had ever hoped to claim. Lightwood had, despite his earlier stipulations, accepted the one pup as payment. The gentleman had been aggrieved to hear of the high cost at which it came to Benjamin and was more than willing to keep to the original agreement, minus six ewes for the lack of a second pup, of course.

Darlington was his, Artemis had recovered from her ordeal, though, as he had originally suspected, was incapable of further whelping. His life was as he set it out to be—one of solitary bliss, where pleasure was sought from the simplicity of a sanctuary away from Society and the expectations owed to his title.

But the solitude only served to remind him of what he had lost: the happiness shared between two lovers. The cold sheets, the absence of laughter, the pervading silence—none of it brought the comfort he had so desperately sought. He had held true joy in his arms and they ached to hold her once again.

He missed her smell, the unique blend of cinnamon and nutmeg, of ginger and allspice mingling together to create an intoxicating perfume that was Juliet and Juliet alone.

He missed the riotous mass of copper-colored curls that draped over her pale shoulders, beckoning him with their softness.

But most of all, he missed her laughter, her passion, and how the two seemed to infuse him with a happiness he had never felt before—and would likely never feel again…unless…

Unless he admitted to both himself and Juliet he had been a complete and total arse.

What had seemed so rational, so logical, no longer made sense. He didn’t need separation from Juliet to be happy. He needed her, dammit. Needed her in his arms filling the void left in her absence.

An absence that was felt everywhere, in every action of his day. Nothing was whole without her. The harder he fought to banish her from his mind, the more she filled it…and he no longer wished to continue the fight. It was more important to live now—with her—and enjoy the time they had together. Artemis may have nearly died, but Juliet had not. And Eleanor had survived the process…

Guilt, however, struck at his conscience. He had treated Juliet harshly in his anger and allowed his tarnished pride to rule his better judgment.

He needed to see her. To ask for her forgiveness—if she would even allow him entrance.

She had done well without him, had proven her skills with the hounds, had dispelled his earlier doubts, and had even gained success for her achievements. He was proud of her. Of his wife.

And he desperately yearned to tell her so.

Benjamin ran a hand over his head. “I need to see her.”

Relief washed over Meadowcroft’s face, his lips lifting upward into a grin. “Then go, man. What are you waiting for?”

Benjamin erupted into laughter, his body shaking with mirth for the first time in…well, a long time.

“There is something you should know before you depart,” Meadowcroft continued. “Eleanor is insistent you should be made aware of Lady Colwyn’s condition.”

He blinked. “Condition?” His throat was suddenly dry. The implications of the word making his hands damp with sweat.

What if…? What if she was with child? He had not once stopped to consider the possibility.

“Is she—”

“With child?” Meadowcroft asked.

Benjamin nodded, his mind numb with the possibility. The last time they had…
Christ.
She must be near the time of delivery.

“Yes.”

Dear Jesus
.

He called to his butler to have his horse saddled and his bag packed.

Chapter Fifteen

Juliet sat back in her chair, clutching the round globe of her stomach, the baby rolling against the insides of her womb, one particularly pointed bone ramming uncomfortably against her lower chest. The aches of the last few weeks were becoming more regular, the pressure in her abdomen causing great discomfort both in her daily routine, and in her evening one.

She could only presume, what with the housekeeper’s watchful eye and constant attention, the end of her term was drawing near.

Juliet would be a mother. And Benjamin a father.

Juliet heaved off the library chair and made her way to the sitting room down the hall. Such news should bring elation, anticipation, or at least excitement—but the baby’s impending arrival only made her weary. Saddened. And uncertain.

Her lids closed, blinking back the wave of tears that so often accompanied her thoughts. It would not do well for her to be so morose. She did want anyone thinking her incapable and unhappy, even if the truth were otherwise. She had her hounds. Her success. And solitude.

After all, she had grown used to the coolness and the echoing silence of the house. There was a certain appeal to the quiet—one of tranquil reflection, really. But, as with all good things, it was best enjoyed in moderation.

She hadn’t realized this to its full extent, of course, until Mr. Meadowcroft had visited and his jovial conversation had reminded her of just how very alone she was.

Juliet perked her ears, the sound of footsteps echoing off the stone floors catching her interest. Likely it was the housekeeper come to check on her, to make certain she was not in the early stages of delivery…

She lifted her head to see her husband, travel weary, his dark hair matted to his head, staring at her from across the room.

Her body warmed at his presence, her nerves jumping as they recalled his touch and precisely what it felt like to be held by his arms.

Which, of course, infuriated her.

What was he doing here? Now? After months of silence, of not even a single missive? And before the end of her term?

Her breath quickened, and tears of pent-up anger pricked against the back of her lids. Juliet’s fingers curled into tight little fists. She was managing well without his assistance, her success with Cleo’s first litter a testament to her abilities. Indeed, she was running Evenrood with nary a complaint with the generous sum he allotted for her living expenses. Everything was perfect.

The housekeeper rushed passed her husband, her harried face revealing her concern. She took Juliet’s hand. “Perhaps you should leave us, my lord. We don’t want to overtax the poor girl.”

Benjamin’s rich voice carried across the room, his determined and intent gaze capturing hers. “I don’t intend on leaving her. Now. Or ever.”

The words hung in the air, her ears receiving the simple message but her head, after months of separation, of hope, of wondering whether he would ever wish to speak to her again, refused to interpret the dialogue.

Her heart raced and, as if the child she carried knew its father was present, began to tumble and kick inside her.

Juliet’s slipped her hands out of the housekeeper’s grasp to rest on her abdomen.

“Juliet?” Benjamin asked, concern coloring his voice.

She closed her eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze. “I’m fine.”

The housekeeper’s rough hands once again sought hers. “Why don’t you sit, child? You look a little pale.”

She was hardly pale, the hours spent wandering in the gardens and playing with the dogs having tinted her complexion. That, combined with the heated flush of her face, no doubt lent her freckled skin a deep rosy hue. Nonetheless, it was likely wise to heed the woman’s advice and head to the comforts of the settee. Her head was swimming, and her back ached more than she cared to admit.

With a heavy sigh of resignation, she complied. “I suppose sitting would be preferable to standing.”

Juliet opened her eyes to see two people staring at her with such intensity, she wondered if an insect had landed on her face unaware. “Is there something amiss?”

Benjamin snorted. “Of course there is something amiss. You carry my child, Juliet.
Our
child. Had I known sooner, I would have—”

“Stayed away longer?” she asked. “Or worse, worried yourself into a state of ruin until you’d learned I safely bore your child? Why did you come here, Benjamin? To further berate me for my role in Artemis’s botched whelping? I assure you, the pain of her injury is most acute and, were I to give my apologies a thousand times, it would never be enough to express my sympathies. I did everything I could to prevent her injuries and loss of litter.”

“I know.”

Juliet blinked. He did?

Her housekeeper patted her hand and settled her onto the plush rose-colored settee. “I’ll go ring for tea, my dear.”

Benjamin knelt down before her, his gaze capturing hers. His eyes were filled with…regret?

No
. She had spent too much of her time wasted on wistful thoughts. He was likely here to see if the child she delivered was his heir…or if further attempts would be required to produce one.

Her cheeks blazed at the thought of the two of them repeating the exercises necessary to produce more offspring. Because it would never happen. She would not allow him to get close enough to wound her heart again.

“I have acted poorly, Juliet, and I regret I did not come sooner. I was…lost in my anger, and do not deny I have been both selfish and irresponsible in my behavior toward you.”

Juliet lifted a brow. Was he…apologizing? “Do you mean to say you seek my forgiveness? For your silence? Your harsh words? Your misdirected blame? For your—”

“Yes.” He lifted her hand and set it between his, the warmth of his skin and the tenderness of his caress sending blood rushing through her veins.

No. She didn’t want to feel this…melting, this softening toward him. He had broken her heart—one he still, undeniably, held between his hands.

“It is not your apologies I seek,” she whispered, trying hard not to let her voice gargle or choke with the emotion straining to infuse her words.

Benjamin pulled a white handkerchief from inside his jacket and dabbed at the tears staining her cheeks. His hand clutched her chin, his thumb running over the edge of her jaw.

“What do you want, Juliet? I know you did everything within your power to help Artemis and you cannot be held responsible for the pups’ deaths. Not that you require it, but I have long forgiven you for any mistake or error you might have made in her whelping.”

Was it possible? Juliet’s heart leaped, her eyes blinking back unshed tears. Had her husband, the one who had so cruelly, yet justly, sent her away, honestly come to seek atonement?

His satin fingers slid over her face. “I am in fact, ashamed of my behavior, Juliet. I sent you away out of fear. Another loss, another death of someone I cherish, well, I could not bear it. But instead of protecting you, I abandoned you when you needed me the most. And for that, I am truly and utterly sorry. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Of course she could. He had acted abysmally, yes, and had caused her massive heartache, but this was Benjamin, and her heart knew to whom it belonged. She could not deny him redemption, any more than she could deny her lungs air—especially when he spoke with genuine sincerity…and love.

Her lips rolled inward. With a deep shuddering sigh, she whispered, “Yes.”

His mouth seized hers—and despite the housekeeper’s presence, Juliet eagerly responded, her lips tingling, her legs…warming?

With a start, she pulled away, her eyes darting to her lap where a dark stain was appearing between her legs.

His gaze followed hers, his eyes widening. “Dear God.”

Her body trembled. Her pulse thundered in her ears. “I’ll have the staff come and see to this.”

Benjamin stood, his face tight with barely restrained panic. “I’d prefer a physician or midwife.”

“Why? This is a simple accident. There is no need for anything more than a towel and a change of clothing.” Juliet’s face heated, her hands instinctively resting on her abdomen. Why did this have to happen now? When her husband’s heated lips were on hers after months of being apart?

The housekeeper knelt beside her, her hands grasping hers as another wave of warm liquid gushed between her legs.

No. Juliet shook her head. This was not the simple accident she first believed. This was…

The elder woman peered up at Juliet. “’Tis your time, my lady.”

…

Blood roared in his ears, Benjamin’s excited pulse and erratic breaths making his head swim.

Juliet. His impossible, beautiful wife, stared at him with the same panic that stirred his fears and forced perspiration to bead and pool on his face and forehead. The moment he had feared upon learning of her fragile and life-threatening condition was now here—and he was anxious, terrified, and…not what his wife required.

She needed his strength, his encouragement, and, well, his love.

Because he loved her. Benjamin swallowed, his eyes capturing Juliet’s. He loved her, dammit. Loved her spirit, her courage, her passions—and it was bloody well time he told her so—before it was too late.

He shook the negativity from his mind. Had his sister not delivered a month or so prior? Had she not smiled at him in perfect health with her latest well-fed and cherubic child, as he offered his apologies for being the insolent prig she so had so aptly declared him?

As with any life experience, risks were involved with childbirth, but he refused to focus on them—not when it was evident his wife required his strength, his attentions, his devotion—all at this moment.

She reached for him, her hand shaking, and he held it firmly in his grasp. He would not let his fears of death and loss prevent him from being with the woman he loved, at a time when she needed him most.

He was a viscount. A husband. And a soon-to-be-father. It was time he started acting like the model of the man he wished his possible son to emulate. His wife’s eyes pooled, the tears on their blue surface glistening in the afternoon light. Benjamin tightened his grasp. “I love you.”

The words were few and simple, but profound. Juliet blinked, her eyes widening. “What?”

“I love you. All of you. The hounds and the baby included.”

Her lips quivered and trembled into a wobbly half smile. “Well, we wouldn’t want to omit the hounds.”

Benjamin shook his head. “Not when I hear nothing but of the accolades of your successful breeding and whelping of Cleo. Her litter is the talk of the
ton
.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed.” He rubbed his hand over hers, Juliet’s shaking diminishing with his diversions. “Mr. Meadowcroft cannot stop talking about his dog. I have never seen him so puffed with pride—not even after the births of his three healthy children.” He leaned in close, her spicy scent enveloping and teasing him. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

She hiccupped, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “It will be our secret.” Her breath tickled his ear, the slight motion making his blood warm with desire.

The housekeeper’s rail-thin form knelt beside him. “I hate to interrupt, my lady, but time is of the essence. We need to get you upstairs and ready for the wee one.”

The tremors in Juliet’s hand increased tenfold, her eyes widening with fear. Benjamin placed his forefinger under her chin. “I am not going anywhere. I will remain here…if you desire as much.”

“I would. Desire as much, that is. I, I—” She gripped her swollen midsection and let out a cry.

“Is there anything I can do?” His heart raced, his entire body tensing as he watched his wife.

The housekeeper’s expression grew stern. “Help me take her to room. I should be able to do the rest until the midwife arrives.”

He nodded and wrapped his arm around Juliet. Using his weight to counter hers, he lifted her off the settee and into a standing position.

Her shoulders bent forward, another spasm of pain gripping her body.

Terrified. He was terrified. Scared out of his mind. The pain, the anguish that lit Juliet’s features…it was near overwhelming.

Her fingers dug into his arm. The same fear that gripped his heart was reflected in her eyes. He had to be strong. He would not abandon her now…or ever. He bent his knees and settled Juliet’s arm into a comfortable position over his neck. “Let us do as the nice woman says, shall we?”

She gave him a small smile and nodded. With a hissing of air between clenched teeth, she leaned on him, her steps leading them across the room and into the hall. Pausing to catch her breath, she said, “I have not yet thought of any names to christen the child.” Frantic eyes once again caught his as he slowly urged her forward and up the stairs.

“That sounds like a task more suited after the baby’s sex is revealed. And one for us to determine together.”

Her answering smile made his heart race. “I would like that. Very much.”

The housekeeper opened the door to a gold-and-violet-colored bedroom. “Come along now.”

Settling Juliet onto the monstrous bed in the equally overlarge space, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You amaze me. If you can sell hounds to the priggish men of the
bon ton
, you can come through this. Why, I’d even venture to say this is child’s play in comparison to dealing with those boorish and opinionated men.”

“I do believe both you and your brother-in-law fall under the
bon ton
description,” she said. Her heated face crinkled with laughter.