Lady Celia searched his gaze, then said, “I am sure she would have told you. It’s only that she is frightened and convinced you would not wish to know…” Lady Celia averted her gaze, her voice trailing off.
Nathaniel fought the urge to shake her as he asked, “What wouldn’t I wish to know.”
Lady Celia’s gaze returned to his, and she said in a small voice, “She is with child.”
For a moment, Nathaniel could do nothing. He could not move or speak. He could scarcely make sense of his thoughts. Then clarity struck, the meaning of her words piercing him. Cordelia was carrying his child.
He released Lady Celia’s arm and turned toward his butler. “Have my horse brought round at once.” Nathaniel crossed the room in long strides, not pausing to see what Lady Celia did. His only thought was getting to Cordelia at once.
She would answer to him. And she would marry him.
This time, he would not be denied.
Nathaniel had spent weeks trying to get Cordelia off his mind. Even now, nearly two months later, the memory of her in his arms hounded him. He had never experienced such a bond with any other woman. It had left him longing for her—wanting her, and not just in his bed.
Despite his feelings, he had left her alone. Honored her wishes. Nathaniel had done his best to forget what they shared and chase away her memory.
Now, this?
Anger pulsed through him, heating his blood and causing his heart to pound a furious rhythm. He swung into his saddle and set the horse into a gallop.
How could she hide her condition from him? How could she attempt to take his child from him? What the devil made her think she could get away with it?
The thought sent a fresh wave of fury through him, for if Lady Celia had not come to him, Cordelia might well have succeeded. And Nathaniel would have been none the wiser. The very idea turned his stomach.
Worst of all, he never would have thought her capable of such a cold-hearted scheme. Nathaniel proposed to her—multiple times—Not only out of honor but more so because he believed they shared a connection. He could imagine her at his side, and he would have been pleased to take her to wife.
But now… Now he knew the truth. Cordelia was a cold-hearted strumpet. She’d used him, then cast him aside, and now she wished to steal his child.
Oh, he would marry her, but there would be little pleasure in it. Instead of getting the sweet, adventurous wife he’d imagined her to be, Nathaniel was getting the devil in skirts.
He turned his mount up the drive leading to Cordelia’s family home but did not bother to slow the horse.
A cloud of dust followed in his wake, then settled around him as he leaped from the saddle and tossed the reins at a footman.
“See that he gets a drink,” Nathaniel called out over his shoulder as he mounted the stone steps leading to the carved mahogany door.
“Right away, sir,” the footman said.
To Nathaniel’s surprise, the butler opened the door before he reached it.
“My lord,” the butler greeted with a bow.
Nathaniel offered a tight smile as he held out his card. “Lady Cordelia, if you please,” he said, his tone commanding.
“I’m afraid the lady is not home to callers, sir.”
Nathaniel’s loose grip on control slipped away, and he sneered at the butler. “Tell her it is Lord Wolverton, and kindly have someone show me to the receiving room.” Nathaniel shoved his hat and gloves toward the butler. “If she refuses to see me, I’ll have an audience with her father, Lord Sheffield.”
When the butler took too long to react, Nathaniel started across the entry hall. He would not be refused the answers he’d come for. Neither would he be swayed from taking Cordelia to wife. He would raise his child.
“My lord,” a footman hurried to Nathaniel, “right this way.”
Nathaniel followed the footman to a comfortable receiving room where a bright fire stirred in the hearth and the drapes were pulled aside, allowing light to flood the room. Under other circumstances, he might find comfort in the well-appointed space.
Today, he was wound tight and doubted anything would relax him. He strode to one of the tall windows and leaned his shoulder against the frame, not sure what he ought to be prepared for—Cordelia or the Marquess.
He did not have to wait long to discover the answer, as Cordelia soon came through the door. Her gaze met his, and she stared daggers. Not that it bothered him. In fact, Nathaniel was sure his own peering gaze conveyed the anger burning within him.
