Her eyes widened as though she was surprised he remembered. “The baby is due to arrive at any time. Emma writes that Gwen is very cross and weepy and Jason is nearly out of his mind trying to hide his worry and keep her distracted.”
“It sounds as if you are needed.”
“I am.” She nodded her head. “Yet I confess it will also help me to feel useful.”
Her comment rankled, for it implied she felt useless here. His fault? Probably. “I’ll take you,” he said gruffly.
“There is no need. The duke has put his carriage at my disposal. The journey takes no more than a few hours, so his coachman and equipment will return in the same day. I can send word if I need transportation back to London, though I imagine my brother-in-law will be pleased to have me use his vehicle.”
Her independent, self-sufficient attitude irritated Carter. Which was ridiculous, since he had been the one to foster it upon her by his neglect.
“Stay with me tonight,” he said impulsively, fighting to keep his smile from turning predatory.
She lowered her gaze and her cheeks reddened. “My monthly courses are just ending.”
Ah, so that question was answered. He had wondered, but didn’t want to ask if she was carrying their child. The duke would be angry, but Carter didn’t care. Dorothea wasn’t breeding and he felt a rush of relief. Pregnancy was dangerous business for a woman.
“That doesn’t matter, especially since you are at the end of your cycle. We can be inventive.” He smiled coaxingly, but then noticed the shadows of exhaustion around her eyes, the fine lines of tension etched on her lovely face. Clearly she was tired, and here he was acting like a perfect ass. “Or we could just sleep together.”
“You wouldn’t mind having me in your bed just to sleep?”
His throat suddenly felt too tight to speak. Lord, he was a bounder if his wife believed he only wanted her around to satisfy his sexual urges.
“Come to bed, Dorothea.” He held out his hand.
For an instant she didn’t move. Then she drew in a long sigh and came close, stopping in front of him. “I have missed you, Carter.”
Her simple truth cut him deep. He might not be capable of loving her with the devotion and intensity she deserved, but he could show her that he did care. He could be kinder, more considerate toward her. It was the very least she deserved.
He blew out the candles and helped her into his bed. Tossing off his shirt and breeches, he climbed naked between the sheets and cradled her in his arms. Darkness surrounded them, forming a cocoon of peace. Carter kissed her temple and she snuggled close.
And in that moment, Carter knew a deep sense of peace. No matter what the state of their relationship, she belonged to him. She was his to hold and protect, to comfort and encourage. And that pleased him mightily.
Chapter Sixteen
Dorothea had not expected calm when they arrived at Jason and Gwendolyn’s home, which lay on the outskirts of London, a four-hour drive from the center of the city. She knew from her sister Emma’s letters that it had been tense and difficult as a moody, oftentimes weepy Gwendolyn neared the end of her confinement and the birth of her child.
Children, Dorothea corrected herself silently, for it was a real possibility that her sister would birth twins, a fact that she had shared with no one except Dorothea.
No, Dorothea had not expected calm to greet them, yet she was far from prepared to face the utter chaos that seemed to grip the house, and every person within it, as she and Carter stepped over the threshold.
They stood alone in the foyer, the young, confused underfootman who had answered the door by their side. Every few minutes, a servant would thunder up or down the staircase or dash in and out of a door, their expression serious and intent.
“The family is not receiving callers today,” the underfootman said in a nervous voice. “You should probably come back another time.”
“Mrs. Barrington is my sister,” Dorothea repeated. “We have come today-”
“Dorothea!” Emma’s shout from the top of the staircase was a trembling cry of relief. Wasting no time, the young woman rushed down the stairs and caught her older sister in a hug. “Thank God you are here. Gwen is in labor!”
Dorothea dredged up an overly bright smile. “Isn’t that exciting news? Why, before too long you and I shall be aunts.”
Emma drew back, her eyes wide. “You don’t understand. It’s been so long already and still the baby hasn’t come.”
Dorothea closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Oh, Lord, this was her greatest fear. That Gwen would not survive childbirth. It was an inconceivable horror that she had forced herself to disregard, yet the reality loomed before her now, stark and real.
A solid masculine hand landed on Dorothea’s shoulder, the strong fingers stroking up and down her arm in a gesture of comfort. “When did her pains begin?” Carter asked.
“They started last night, right after dinner,” Emma answered. “At first it wasn’t too bad. Gwen was even laughing and joking for a time, but things changed dramatically with the dawn. She is in terrible pain. If you stand near her bedchamber door you can hear her scream.”
A long, serious silence fell. “Take me to her,” Dorothea insisted, as the tightness in her chest refused to ease. Arm in arm the two sisters began to climb the staircase, with Carter following close on their heels.
“What is the doctor saying about your sister’s condition?” he asked.
Emma’s brows drew together. “The midwife is with Gwen now.”
“Where’s the doctor?” Dorothea inquired.
“Gone.” Emma stopped in mid-staircase and turned to her. “He frightened Gwen and made her cry. So Jason threw him out of the house.”
“Oh, dear.” Dorothea put her arms around Emma and held her tightly.
Emma shuddered. “It wasn’t pretty. The butler had to hold Jason back when he lunged toward the doctor, fists flying.”
“What could the doctor have done to cause such a violent reaction?” Carter wanted to know.
“Jason wouldn’t tell me. But he went pale as a ghost.” Emma shuddered again and leaned into Dorothea. “I’m frightened. She’s been in labor so long. Will the baby never arrive?”
Dorothea shook her head helplessly. She held Emma tightly, her gaze darting above her sister’s bowed head to meet Carter’s eyes.
“I’ll speak with Barrington,” he said, understanding her silent plea. “Where is he?”
“Outside Gwen’s bedchamber,” Emma mumbled, never lifting her head from Dorothea’s comforting embrace.
Flashing Carter a look of earnest appreciation, Dorothea cradled Emma in her arms and pulled her up the remaining stairs.
“I sent word to Jason’s brother, Lord Fairhurst, a few hours ago,” Emma confided. “They won’t let me see Gwen and I can offer no comfort to Jason, but I felt I had to do
“Hush, now, don’t fret,” Dorothea said soothingly. “You’ve done a fine job and I know Gwen is grateful you are here.”
Seeing the fragile state of Emma’s emotions brought a rush of tears to Dorothea’s eyes. Goodness, she was only sixteen. Far too young to be coping with this crisis.
It seemed to take forever, but in truth Carter returned after a few minutes. Not liking the frown of worry on her husband’s face, Dorothea sent Emma off to the kitchen to ask for tea to be prepared so they could speak privately.
“Well?” Dorothea prompted.
Carter hesitated. “’Tis precisely as Emma said. Barrington is pacing the floorboards outside Gwen’s chamber,
