“Remain where you are for twenty four hours. When I see you tomorrow I will give my final decision. If the baby is active again, and your back is no longer painful, then walking around these rooms will be beneficial. Remember, your grace, absolutely no stairs until I give you leave.”

Her lips twitched, perhaps now was not a good time to tell him Alexander was in the habit of carrying her from floor to floor. “Please could you ask my husband to come through on your way out, Dr Jamieson?”

He bowed, collected his bag and moved briskly into her parlour. The sound of low male voices indicated he was being interrogated so there would be no need to repeat what she’d been told when Alexander came in to join her.

The physician gave her permission to get dressed when he called the following day and she did so forthwith. The infant was once more pummelling her stomach and from the strength of the kicks and punches she was convinced the baby would be a boy.

“Alexander, place your hand here. Did you feel that?”

“Good Grief! You have a pugilist in there, my love. If I put my ear against your bump can I hear the heartbeat?”

The idea of having his face resting so close sent a frisson of excitement along her spine. How ridiculous! She was an unnatural woman thinking of making love when she was so vastly pregnant. “Dr Jamieson listened through a cow horn, why don’t you try the same thing with a glass?”

Should she offer to pull back her skirts as she had done for the physician? Instead she pulled the muslin tight and laid-back whilst he placed the open end of the glass against her belly. He was on his knees beside her, his jacket casually discarded and his cravat untied—when he spent time with her nowadays there was no tension between them. He was as relaxed as she. The momentary irritation which had caused her to step back unwarily was forgotten. After all she could not expect him to be in perfect humour every moment of the day.

His hair was longer than previously and flopped endearingly over his collar. She barely resisted the urge to sink her fingers into it, the last thing either of them needed was excitement of that sort. Had he not said he would take care of such urges himself? A wave of bitter disappointment engulfed her. He’d told her he would not be unfaithful but visiting a bawdy house might not be considered as infidelity by a gentleman in his position.

She pressed herself into the back of the chaise-longue and attempted to quell her dismay. He had given her his word he would not renew his liaison with his mistress. She could hardly demand to know if he slaked his physical needs with a lady of the night. All desire to touch him had gone. Now she wanted him to remove his head and leave her in peace.

He sat back, a rueful grin making him dangerously attractive. “All I got for my effort was a bruised cheek. Do you think this baby of ours is a boy?”

Something prompted her to say the opposite of what she intended. “I sincerely hope so. I’ve no wish to be obliged to produce more children in order to protect your title.”

Her words were like a slap. He was back on his feet, his expression closed—a formidable man replacing the approachable friend she’d been sharing a comfortable interlude with. There was no point in apologising, the damage was done. She’d all but destroyed the fragile affection that had been growing between them.

“I had thought your antipathy towards me was gone, Isobel. I can do no more. If you won’t accept I’ve changed, meet me halfway in order to make this marriage work, then it will be best for both of us if I no longer spend time with you.”

Helplessly she gazed at him, willing him to understand that sometimes she spoke without thought, did not mean what she said. Pregnancy was making a veritable shrew of her. “I enjoy your company, I shall be sad if you decide to return to Grosvenor Square after all.”

“I’ve no intention of returning to London, this barracks of a place is more than big enough for us to avoid contact if that’s what you wish. I must attend to estate business. Reynolds has been clamouring for an interview since yesterday.” He nodded and strode away. The bed chamber seemed unpleasantly empty without him.

Life confined to her apartment was going to be tedious without his company. These past weeks she’d come to eagerly anticipate the evenings, looking forward to the time they spent together. Now her sharp tongue had driven him away—her life would be so much simpler if she could finally learn to trust him again.

*   *   *

“What do you think, Mary? Is lemon yellow a suitable colour for the curtains and upholstery in the nursery?” Isobel viewed the samples spread out on the table in her sitting room. “I must make a decision today as it could be as little as four weeks before I’m delivered.”

“It’s an unusual choice, my lady, but will suit either a boy or a girl. I know you have selected two girls from the staff already working here but what about the nanny? Does his lordship have someone in mind for that position?”

“No, he is leaving all such domestic details to me. When he went to Town last week he set enquiries in motion. It would seem there’s always a family who can recommend someone suitable.” She heaved herself to her feet. Her mobility was sadly restricted lately as her girth had dramatically increased. Alexander had laughingly he told her that very morning if she did not give birth soon she would pop. She had not found the comment particularly amusing.

Fortunately since her outburst a few weeks ago their relationship had drifted back to amicable. Unlike her, he did not bear a grudge. “Mary, do you think he has changed? That he is no longer the violent and arrogant gentleman who abused me last year?”

This was a highly unsuitable topic of conversation between a member of staff and herself, but Mary was first and foremost her friend. Even Alexander appeared to have accepted the closeness of their relationship and no longer stared haughtily down his nose when he came in and found them closeted together. Possibly the fact Mary was a far better housekeeper than ever Maynard had been, did much to improve his opinion of her.

“At first I thought it was an act in order to win you over, but as the months have passed I truly believe he loves you and has made himself a better person because of it.”

“I’ve always loved him deep in my heart but was too scared to admit it. I must find him at once and tell him. He will be so happy.”

*   *   *

Alexander rubbed his eyes and yawned, he was finding it damned difficult to sleep. Having his chambers so far from hers meant he was constantly on the alert in case she needed him. He had got up three times last night to check everything was as it should be at the back of the house.

The list of possible candidates for the position of nanny was not over long and the first two seemed the most likely. One had been with her previous employers for fifteen years, first as a nursery maid and then promoted to running the nursery herself. The other had been with the family for a shorter time, but had two other glowing recommendations from previous positions.

He would take the information up to Isobel directly. As Lady Everton had told him, most households would have everything in place three months before the due date and not have left it so late. A decision would have to be made today; Jamieson had told him the baby was readying itself for delivery. Isobel had yet to select the material for the curtains in the nursery.

He jumped to his feet as the familiar footsteps of his beloved approached the study. This was no longer a place where she was not welcome and she often joined him in the afternoon and sat reading with her feet up whilst he worked on his papers. He stepped out into the spacious corridor to greet her.

She smiled at him, her face illuminated by such love his chest squeezed making breathing impossible. He couldn’t speak, his heart was full, and tears filled his eyes. He opened his arms and she fell into them.

“Alexander, I had to come right away. I’ve just discovered I still love you, indeed that I love you more today than I ever did before.”

She was obliged to stand sideways as even his arms were not long enough to embrace her nowadays. “My darling, you have made me the happiest of men. Come in, you know you should not have hurried all this way you could have sent for me instead.”

“I had no wish to wait another second to tell you.” Her eyes shone, he wanted to sweep her up and make love to her despite her advanced pregnancy. “I’ve finally chosen the fabric for the nursery and sent Sam to the warehouse to collect it. Fortunately Mary has a team of expert seamstresses assembled and the covers for the furniture, the curtains and everything else will be completed by the end of the week.”

“I’ve a list of possible candidates to take charge of the nursery. There are two that I think we should interview but I shall leave the decision to you.”

He knelt at her side and tenderly lifted her feet before fetching the various letters of recommendation. Perching himself on the edge of the sofa he watched her peruse the contents—he loved the way her nose crinkled when she was concentrating. He slid in behind her legs and dropped them back into his lap. As usual she was wearing no stockings and had kicked off her slippers as soon as she’d sat down.

Whilst she read he massaged her feet and ankles worried they were more swollen than they had been yesterday. Jamieson had warned him that swelling of this sort was a sign that she needed to do less. He would insist she stayed in bed until noon and then only got up to rest on her day bed in her parlour.