Page 117 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"And we're having a baby," she announced suddenly, to all the staff.

The household erupted. Mrs. Fielding actually squealed—a sound none of them had thought her capable of making. Cookie began crying. Morrison's expression shifted from disapproval to something that might have been joy.

"A baby!" Mrs. Fielding exclaimed. "Oh, my lady, how wonderful!"

"When?" Cookie demanded. "Do you need special foods? I can make anything. My grandmother's recipe for morning sickness..."

"Please," Arabella said desperately. "Anything to help with the sickness."

"And this is Cordelia," Lucien interrupted before the household could completely overwhelm his wife. "My cousin. She'll be staying with us indefinitely."

"The nice one?" Mrs. Fielding asked, then colored. "That is, I mean..."

"Yes," Cordelia said with a smile. "The nice one. As opposed to my mother and sisters."

"We'll prepare a suite," Mrs. Fielding said, recovering her composure. "It's near your chambers, my lady, but private enough."

"Perfect," Arabella said, then swayed slightly.

Lucien caught her immediately. "Bed. Now."

"But dinner?"

"Can wait."

"Cordelia?"

"Can manage. Can't you?"

"Of course," Cordelia said quickly. "Please, Arabella, rest. You've done enough for one day."

"I've done nothing but be sick in bushes."

"You've rescued me from my mother and announced an heir to Blackthorn. That's quite enough excitement."

Lucien carried Arabella upstairs despite her protests, Thistle following with an air of guard dog authority that was somewhat undermined by the fact that he was carrying one of Morrison's gloves.

"Again?" Morrison sighed.

"At least he brings them back now," Mrs. Fielding observed. "That's progress."

"That's criminal behaviour with a return policy."

"Still progress."

Upstairs, Lucien settled Arabella into bed, helping her out of her travel clothes with gentle efficiency.

"I can manage," she protested.

"I know you can. I want to help anyway."

"Why?"

"Because you're my wife, you're carrying my child, and you spent the morning defending my cousin from my dragon of an aunt."

"She needed defending."

"You need rest."