Octavia’s face heated. She had hoped that nobody ever discovered that Angelo had been there, but she should have realized her maid would know.
“I do not pass judgment, especially after the way your husband treated you.”
Her maid had been with Octavia since she was seventeen and knew more about her private matters than anyone else.
“I thank you for that.”
“I fear that because you are convinced that you are barren that you have missed another obvious symptom of pregnancy.”
Octavia frowned. “What other symptom?”
“When did you last have your courses?”
“Courses?” Alarm swept through her as she realized that they had not occurred since before Angelo had become her lover. “There must be a reasonable explanation,” she insisted, and panic settled into her being.
Her maid hitched a brow. “I know when they were, I know when you began to exhibit signs of illness, and I would wager what little I own that you are with child.”
“It cannot be. I did not get with child even though my husband visited my bed once a week so it is impossible that Lord Bolton was able to accomplish in one month what my husband could not in ten years.”
“We shall learn what is the cause.” Her maid stood and smiled. “I will send for the physician. Even if I am wrong, which I do not believe I am, you do need an answer.”
“Yes, I do. Thank you.”
After her maid quit the room, Octavia placed a hand on her abdomen. She didn’t dare hope that a child grew within, but also feared that one did.
As hard as he had tried yesterday, Angelo could not bring himself to call on Lord St. Mullin. Instead, he finally had returned home where he became quite foxed and woke with his head pounding, stomach churning, and a mouth dry. He nursed his condition with Dover’s powder dissolved in ale followed by slices of toast. Then he bathed and returned to bed where he slept until the afternoon. When he woke again, his head no longer ached, nor did he feel like he wished to toss up his accounts. Except, when he considered the option of calling on St. Mullin, the nauseated state returned.
Maybe Trent was right, and he should talk to his father. If anyone had advice for Angelo, it would be his father. Even if he could not help, at least the news that he planned to become betrothed would ease both parents’ concerns.
When he arrived at their home in Mayfair, Angelo was directed to the back garden.
His father didn’t appear ill, especially while sitting in the sun behind the townhouse, but Angelo knew better. He had witnessed himself that his father got winded and tired after one flight of stairs.
“I have decided to approach the Marquess of St. Mullin regarding Lady Briana,” Angelo announced as he settled into a chair beside his father.
“She is a good choice,” his father offered.
“We get on well enough.” Angelo’s stomach tightened. He dismissed the sensation because he knew that resulted from the decision to take a wife, and not the specific lady in question. She was beautiful and accomplished. He was certain that in time passion would come. Or so he hoped. But she was the wife for him. Except he hadn’t even been able to bring himself to kiss her. Though, he shouldn’t until they were officially betrothed.
Again, his stomach tightened.
“Do you love her?”
“No, but I likely will in time.”
His father frowned. “Why her, if not love?”
“We get on well and we are suited. Our marriage will be much like you and mother’s I suppose.” That had been one of the aspects that had drawn him to Briana to begin with. Actually, what she wanted was why she had been chosen over the others.
“How so?” his father asked.
“She does not wish to live in England. I do not wish to live in Ireland. We will see each other on occasion, however often that is necessary to produce an heir and a spare. The rest of the time we will lead separate lives,” Angelo explained. “She is also independent like mother, which I appreciate and the reason why I looked for a wife who had some maturity. Lady Briana is two and twenty.”
Independence had not been on his original list of requirements in a wife. He had secretly feared that an independent wife could lead to a difficult marriage and clashing of wills. That concern had been reconsidered when he realized that such a wife would be more beneficial and possibly pleasant, especially if they did not live under the same roof except on occasion.
“Such a marriage suited you and mother, and I do not see why such an arrangement would not be agreeable to my marriage.”
“Is that how you saw our marriage? Suitable.”
