—
As her body went limp he caught her and swept her into his arms.
The man took a step forward. “I’m her brother. I’ll take her.”
“I think not. Simply show me to her room.”
“That, sir, would be inappropriate.”
“I don’t give a bloody damn.”
Luke edged his way past him. In the hallway he found a servant whom he dispatched to fetch Bill and another whom he ordered to show him to Catherine’s room. His legs were feeling so weak that he wasn’t certain he’d make it up the stairs.
All these weeks of striving to preserve her reputation, and he’d managed to undo it all in a matter of seconds.
But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Catherine.
Catherine thought she should have been embarrassed being examined by someone she knew as other than a physician, but Dr. Graves had the uncanny ability to put her at ease.
One moment she’d been moving toward Sterling, and the next she was in her bed, staring at her canopy. Now she was resting on that bed, in the dressing gown Jenny had helped her change into.
“Lord Claybourne insists that you be examined,” Jenny had told her.
As though Claybourne had the authority to issue such a demand. Oh, her heart went out to Frannie. The woman would no doubt find him impossible to live with.
While Catherine was fairly finding it impossible to live without him.
“Well?” Catherine asked now, watching as Dr. Graves began putting instruments back into his bag.
“You swooned, which isn’t unusual when one is dealing with grief.”
“And the unexpected arrival of my brother after so many years certainly didn’t help,”
she added.
“Quite so, but I suspect your fainting had more to do with your condition.”
Catherine swallowed. “Which is?”
“You’re with child.”
Sliding her eyes closed, she unconsciously pressed her hand to her stomach. Then she opened her eyes and met his concerned gaze. “I feared as much,” she said. “No, that’s not true. I rather hoped as much.”
With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned against the bedpost, no longer the physician, but a friend. “Are you going to tell him?”
“You say that as though you know who the father is.”
“I have my suspicions. He’ll want to know.”
“There’s no need for him to know.”
“You don’t think he’ll hear of it?”
Oh, he would. Claybourne knew everything that involved the aristocracy.
“Not until after he’s married. I’ll do what I can to conceal my condition until he’s married.”
He nodded. Straightened. “Very well then.”
