All she had to do was prove it to him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
From the studywindow, Alessandro watched absently as the new head gardener he had hired from London and his laborers set about the Herculean task of shaping the Marchmont gardens back into the image of grandeur they had once been. He was pleased by how much he had accomplished in his time in Wiltshire. Over the last few weeks, he had thrown himself into the task of righting the wrongs which had been perpetrated upon his estate.
He had also dedicated himself—with singular devotion—to getting his wife with child. He had been bedding Catriona at least twice a day now that they had settled once more into a truce. His countess’s appetite for pleasure matched his, and one of his favorite missions was plotting when and how he could get her alone so he could lift her skirts.
Thrice in the library.
Once in the gardens.
Yet again in the Temple of Artemis.
Two times in the drawing room.
Four times in the portrait gallery. The chairs in that room were generous and quite accommodating. He had discovered there were few greater joys in life than convincing his wife to sit upon his lap and ride him whilst he suckled her nipples.
He frowned, scarcely taking note of the panorama before him, one of the laborers pruning a particularly wild rosebush. The endless lust he felt for his wife was becoming something of a problem.
It never diminished as he had imagined it would.
Instead, it grew.
And it was growing still, every minute, every hour, every day, with a persistence that concerned him. He was not certain what he could do about it, save continue bedding her as often as possible in the hopes she would soon be carrying his heir and he could move forward with his life.
A sudden commotion from the hall beyond the study reached him. He spun on his heels, about to investigate the source, when the door burst open, and there stood Olivia, her face pale, eyes wide.
“Come quick, m’lord! Something has happened to Lady Rayne!” she said.
Dios.
His heart was instantly hammering, fear clenching his gut. “What do you mean something has happened to her, child? What is it?”
“She swooned, and she won’t wake up,” said the child.
As he moved closer, he detected the faint shimmer of tears on her cheeks. He had seen his wife only hours ago, and she had been hale and hearty, her cheeks painted a sweet pink from the exertion of their morning lovemaking. What the devil could have happened?
“Take me to her,” he said grimly.
*
She was goingto lose him.
It was all Catriona could think as she watched the doctor Alessandro had summoned to her side take his leave of her chamber. How strange the heart was, to be capable of bursting with happiness and breaking all at once.
She had been so busy these last few weeks, between the endless tasks occupying her at Marchmont, taking Olivia on as her charge, and navigating the complex marriage she shared with her husband, she had failed to notice she had missed her courses.
But miss them, she had. She had been due for them a fortnight after Alessandro had consummated their marriage. How had she failed to note all the signs? The sudden churn of her stomach in the mornings? The extra urge for dessert? The dizziness which sometimes assailed her, as had happened earlier.
All of it normal, the doctor had assured her, for a woman who was with child. The reason she had failed to come to initially was that she had knocked her head upon the floor in her fall. But though she had a throbbing ache in her skull to show for it, the doctor assured her that after a day of rest, she would be fine.
How wrong he was. For she would not be fine. Not when this discovery meant her life as she had come to know—and love—it was about to change irrevocably.
Catriona closed her eyes against the swift prick of tears. A strange barrage of emotion pounded down upon her, like a punishing hailstorm. Maternal longing, a rush of awe, followed by regret and a bittersweet, searing pain.
For if she was going to bear him a child, Alessandro would be leaving her.
Soon.
