“How am I to know?” Blessing snapped. “I have neither windows nor magical powers with which to view this demon who threatens to break my ribs whenever he or she is not busily bouncing so hard that I nearly wet myself.” She immediately looked abashed. “Forgive me. I am vileness itself. How on earth did Mama ever do this eight times without either killing Papa or forbidding him to touch her ever again?”
“Perhaps once she held the babe and the miserable part had passed, she forgot about it until it was too late, then found herself stricken with it all over again.” Fortuity stared, awestruck as her sister’s stomach shifted, then rolled as though something within her was testing for weak spots to burst through and escape. “What does that feel like?”
“When the imp hooks its foot under one side of my ribcage and grabs hold of the other side and stretches, it hurts like the bloody devil. But it can be quite magical when the beastie calms to a gentle, rolling swim.” Blessing nodded at her. “You will know soon enough.”
“Whatever do you mean by that?” Fortuity sat straighter and tugged some of her curls closer around her neck, wondering if Matthew had left some telltale marks along her throat while nuzzling her awake for a delightful morning romp.
Blessing leaned forward as much as her swollen middle allowed. “You are no longer a virgin. Admit it.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Liar.”
Fortuity huffed. She had never been able to hide anything from her sisters, especially not Blessing. “How did you know?”
“Easily enough, dear sister. You seem genuinely happy and content for a change.” Blessing shifted on the fainting couch, struggling to rearrange the pillows to support her better.
Fortuity jumped to help her, tucking smaller cushions behind her back and larger ones behind her shoulders and under her feet. “Shall I ring for tea? Are you hungry?”
“I am perpetually hungry, but every time I eat, my stomach feels as though I have swallowed live coals, and then I belch like a drunkard at the pub.”
Fortuity eyed her, trying not to laugh. “Observed many drunkards at pubs, have we?”
“Oh, just shut your gob, Fortuity, do.” Blessing retrieved the handbell that had disappeared among the cushions and rang it as if winding up to throw it. As soon as the butler appeared, she sadly shook her head and unleashed a long-suffering sigh. “Tea again, please, Cadwick, and do not forget extra milk and sugar. And an abundance of cakes and biscuits, of course—along with kippers. The extra-salty ones from the oiliest batch. I have a terrible need for them, it seems.”
“Right away, my lady,” he said before disappearing to fetch it.
“Extra-salty, oily kippers?” Fortuity shuddered at the thought of eating them with sweet cakes and biscuits. “That poor man must be terrified of you. He didn’t even flinch.” The butlerhad to be at his wits’ end between the herds of cats that he despised and his mistress’s odd requests.
“I am sure poor Cadwick feels as if he has descended into the deepest level of hell.” Blessing rubbed the mound of her stomach as though it were a magic lamp, and she was summoning Aladdin’s genie from Antoine Galland’sLes Mille et Une Nuit—or, as Fortuity had enjoyed the English translation,One Thousand and One Nights. “Now tell me, when do you intend to inform Chance and Mr. Sutherland the elder that you are happily married, so Gracie can take her place on the chopping block next? Serendipity tells me that Chance is positively unbearable since Mr. Sutherland informed him that your marriage did not satisfy the condition of the will.”
“Did Mr. Sutherland ever say what would happen if one of us did not achieve the marital bliss that Mama and Papa wished?”
Blessing shrugged. “It is my understanding that Chance’s allowance increases with each happily married sister, but he will not get the entirety of the coffers of his longed-for dukedom until all seven of us achieve such bliss.” She gave a wicked smirk. “For my amusement, don’t tell Chance about the change in your level of happiness. Let him simmer a while longer. He deserves to suffer after comparing me to the size of a hot air balloon.”
Fortuity gasped. “He didn’t!”
“He did.”
“Then I shan’t tell him for at least another week.”
Blessing clapped her hands and chortled happily. “I do love sisterly plotting.”
Cadwick reappeared with the tea and accouterments, served them both, then hurried back out again.
“I don’t believe I have ever seen that man move so quickly,” Fortuity said.
Blessing balanced a platter overflowing with biscuits, cakes, and kippers on the shelf of her stomach. “I am rather enjoyingthat part of his behavior. By the way, Thorne tells me the Duchess of Esterton has slithered her viperous self back into London and been welcomed with open arms. How are you coping with that?”
“Matthew and I are presenting a united front that, according to the lateston dit, she finds most infuriating. Especially since he ignored not only the first letter she sent him upon her return to London, but the second and third letters as well.”
“Has the woman no pride?” Blessing asked around a mouthful of cake.
“None whatsoever.” Fortuity sipped her tea and settled more comfortably in her chair. “In her last letter, she offered to become his mistress. Even went so far as to say that she didn’t mind sharing him as long as he kept her in the style to which she was accustomed when her husband lived.”
“Apparently, her husband’s dying before she could give him an heir has proven to be most detrimental to her purse.” Blessing exuded a state of sheer bliss as she shoved an entire kipper dripping with oil into her mouth. With a finger in the air to bid Fortuity to wait while she finished chewing, she took a sip of tea to speed up the process. “Thorne reports that her dearly departed husband’s nephew is the new duke and has never been impressed with her or her spending habits. It appears she is quite comfortable requesting advancements on her future allowances because she blows through her coin so readily.”
“Well, she is not my problem.” Although, if Fortuity was brutally honest with both herself and her sister, the Duchess of Esterton’s return to London had set her nerves on edge. Even though Matthew had been quite open about the letters and only given the dowager the most basic level of civility whenever their paths had crossed, she still wished his former infatuation had remained on the Continent and never returned. “But I do have another.”
