Page 74 of How to Capture a Duke

“I do hope Tristan comes to his senses regarding you. Meanwhile, I’m leaving for Rosehill.”

Olivia lowered her teacup. “So soon?”

“I’m old, my dear. I’ve visited my friends and accomplished all I’ve set out to do in town. Now that I know you and Tristan have come to some sort of agreement, I am confident all will fall into place.”

Olivia wasn’t as confident, but she held her tongue. “I shall miss you.”

“I’m not far away. Now, listen carefully. If my grandson does not come to fully appreciate you, then you may come to me at Rosehill at any time.” She leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “From what I’ve observed, he won’t be far behind.”

Olivia awoke early and rang for her maid and dressed. She had a busy day planned, shopping on Bond Street for new bonnets with her sister, and Ellie would arrive soon.

On her way to the breakfast room, the smell of fried bacon made her stomach roil. She halted outside the door then sprinted back up the stairs to her room just in time to retch in the chamber pot. She collapsed on the bed, a sheen of cold sweat on her brow.

She shivered. Was she ill?

Another wave of nausea struck, and she vomited until her stomach painfully spasmed and there was nothing left but bile. She lay face up on the bed, utterly miserable, until a low knock on her door sounded.

“Olivia?”

Her sister’s voice. “Ellie. Come in.”

Ellie stood in the room, her blue eyes assessing the scene. “You’re ill.” She immediately rang for the maid, and the chamber pot was taken away to be replaced with another.

“I don’t feel ill,” Olivia said. “I was fine until I smelled the bacon.”

Ellie approached the bedside and touched her forehead. “You are not warm.” The concern in her sister’s eyes was replaced with understanding. “You are with child.”

Olivia stared at her. “I don’t think—”

Ellie cut her off with a knowing look. “When was your last menses?”

Olivia’s mind spun to calculate the days. They’d made love a week after she’d last bled. “I’m past due.”

Oh God.

“You are with child.”

Her voice broke miserably. “But the duke did not…that is…he did not finish inside me.”

“It is not impossible,” Ellie said. “I’ve known other ladies who have conceived even though men had withdrawn.”

Olivia buried her face in her hands. The one time he’d made love to her on the settee, and taken measures not to conceive, she had still become pregnant? It seemed horribly unlucky.

“Congratulations, sister.” At Olivia’s silence, Ellie continued. “I’m happy to know that things have improved in your marriage.”

Olivia rubbed her brow. “Yes, but we haven’t discussed this lately, haven’t talked about his concerns about starting a family. I need time to think.”

“How much time? Days or weeks? If you are thinking the later, you may start to show. What will you tell him?”

…

Tristan arrived early to the House of Lords. It was the day of the committee stage, where the detailed line-by-line examination and discussion of any amendments to the Soldiers Bill would take place. Tristan had anticipated which amendments would be the most troublesome, and it was time to put all his hard work to the test. At last, he would speak on the floor. He’d apply the techniques he’d learned under the skilled tutelage of Horace Higgins, the same ones he’d practiced with Olivia.

He owed much to his wife.

Just the thought of her made his blood heat and his heart hammer. The memory of their one intimate evening together haunted him nightly. He’d learned just where to touch her to make her gasp and had memorized all her pleasure points as intimately as a musician knows his instrument, but he could not do what he’d wanted—to come deeply inside her womb.

It was his curse. His burden to bear.