“Tell whoever it is that I’m not in at the moment, Barton,” Alister returned as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Other than working himself into an early grave, he’d also hired most of the Weston House servants to come and work at Thorn Hall. He’d been impressed with their loyalty to Lyra and he thought she would appreciate the addition of a few familiar faces. Not only that, but he’d heard that unless an heir could be located to carry on the title of Earl of Weston, the former townhouse grounds would likely revert back to the Crown, putting Lyra’s former employees out of a job. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t use the extra help. He’d generally spent most of his time in London, so his estate had run on a skeleton staff, but now he intended to spend more time lounging away the days in the country.
“You’d turn your own sister away then?” Euphemia chided as she walked into the room currently undergoing a full renovation.
Alister couldn’t help but laugh as he bowed with a grand flourish. “I suppose for you, I should make time.”
After giving a few last-minute instructions to the workers, he escorted Euphemia to the front parlor. He knew he didn’t need to stand on ceremony with his own relation, although he did snag his waistcoat on the way out and button it up as he asked Barton to make sure tea and cakes were brought around.
He plopped down in a chair by the mantle, while Euphemia sat down a bit more demurely across from him. She was wearing her favorite purple turban, and for some reason, the sight of it caused Alister to smile.
“You’ve been keeping busy, I see.” She gave an elegant lift of her brow. Before Alister had thought the simple action made her appear haughty, but now he considered it rather endearing and just another one of his elder sister’s quirks.
“Indeed,” he concurred. “You might say I’m on a mission at the moment.”
“I can see that. Rest assured, I won’t take up much of your time.” She clasped her hands in her lap as if what she wanted to say was difficult. “I’m here to apologize, Alister. For everything.”
“You made it right,” Alister said slowly. “I just hope you’re not marrying Sir Bowly to do it.”
“No, I’m not marrying Henry because of his wealth, although that was certainly a bonus when it came to making amends with you.” Her lips twisted when she looked at him. “I was furious after you confronted me at Thorn Hall, but the truth was you were right. I’d been unfair to you all these years. I’ve always used my age as a weapon toward you and, as you pointed out, I’m not in my dotage, so I got to thinking that remarrying will be good for me. We only have one life, so we might as well live it, right?
“The baronet is a kind man and he wishes to travel the world, which is something I’ve always wanted to do. In fact, after our wedding, we were thinking of heading to Africa to the Cape of Good Hope.”
“It sounds like a match made in Heaven,” Alister murmured.
“Much like your own, I hope,” Euphemia returned, but when he didn’t immediately reply, she asked softly, “It is, isn’t it?”
Alister smiled, albeit sadly, as he stared at the fireplace flames. “It will be,” he said softly. “It has to be.”
* * *
“Everything looks good,” Dr. Harris said as he smiled kindly at Lyra. “As long as you continue with the tincture, get plenty of rest, and don’t wear yourself out unnecessarily, I see no reason why you shouldn’t carry this baby to a healthy, full term.”
Lyra felt as if the weight of a thousand bricks had just tumbled from her shoulders. “I’m relieved to hear that.”
“I’m sure your husband will be overjoyed at the news. By this time next year, you might have the next duke on your hands. Pass on my felicitations if you would.”
She swallowed over the tight lump in her throat. “Of course.”
After the doctor took his leave, she collapsed against the pillows behind her. Her prayers had been answered. No doubt she had a long seven months ahead, but it would be worth it to hold her child in her arms.
Alister’s child.
A brief knock at her door admitted Mara. “The doctor told me the good news. I’m so happy.”
“Me too,” Lyra sighed. “I was so worried it was going to be…like before.” She paused, before asking, “Has Alister returned?”
Mara clasped her hands in her lap. “I believe he’s still at the estate in Kent.”
“I see.”
“I’m sure he’ll return to London shortly— What are you doing?”
Lyra threw the bedcovers off of her, interrupting Mara’s statement. “Going to Thorn Hall.”
Mara’s eyes widened. “Are you mad? You shouldn’t be going anywhere!”
“Dr. Harris said I was healthy enough to travel, and if my husband is in Kent, then that’s where I need to be.”
