Feeley’s eyes brightened. “The castle at Kinsale, Your Grace?”
“Yes. Would that suit you?”
Feeley’s voice had been unusually subdued but rose along with his grin. “It would, indeed, Your Grace.”
“You would marry the girl?”
“Yes. If I must.” He chuckled. “That I would, indeed.”
“Then, you shall marry her before you leave.”
“Sweet Lilly. ’Twill be my pleasure to become her husband.”
Having finished washing, Charles rose from the bath and took the towel handed to him. He wouldn’t place a wager on Feeley remaining faithful. But he supposed stranger things had happened.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nellie stood beside Charles as the carriage bearing Jason and Beverly away to Dorset rattled down the drive.
“They will be missed.” Charles put his arm around her as they walked back inside.
“I do hope the birth goes well,” Nellie said.
“Indeed.” Charles kissed her cheek and left her to go to the stables, planning to ride out with his gamekeeper.
Nellie went to see how his mother fared. She would read to Catherine if she felt well enough. They were almost finished Pride and Prejudice and would soon begin on Sense and Sensibility.
In the evening, Charles, Catherine, and Nellie played three-handed whist. It was the first evening Catherine had left her bedchamber.
“We must invite our neighbors for dinner when you feel up to it, Mother,” Charles said, reaching for his wineglass.
“There’s absolutely no reason why you can’t entertain them now. I shall return to the dower house in a day or so.”
Charles frowned. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Tut, tut, Charles, how you do fuss.” She placed down a card. “I am a great deal better. And the dower house is only two miles away.”
He glanced at Nellie in appeal.
“But we will miss you,” Nellie complained.
His mother reached across and patted Nellie’s cheek. “I suspect I am being coerced. But I consider myself very lucky indeed. I will stay a little longer.”
The next day, Marian’s reply to Nellie’s letter arrived in the post. Nellie curled up on the sofa in her sitting room to read it.
“Oh, my goodness, Nellie, are you with child?” Marian wrote. “Let me know as soon as you are sure. (Heavily underlined.) The most splendid news, if so! Are you well, dearest? Because by now, you would have missed two of your monthly menses, I feel quite confident you are pregnant! You must tell Charles. Even if you are wrong, he will wish to comfort you in your disappointment.
I am only in my fifth month, and nothing fits me! This baby will be enormous! Belfries is so delighted to have another child, he has agreed to me purchasing a new wardrobe. I shan’t, however, not yet. I’ll have some of my gowns altered. After the baby is born, I’ll splurge on some new dresses. I am sure I shall require something more than a new hat to cheer me. I fear my figure will never return to its original shape. But for the moment, there’s no sense in spending money when one is an unattractive lump who must hide from Society!
But I digress! I am eager to tell you my news! As I left the dressmaker’s rooms in Camberwell, I walked past a small church where a wedding took place. A few guests emerged, and I paused, because so many of them were French. And I love a wedding. Well! The bride shall surprise you, Nellie. It was the (former) Mademoiselle Girard. The woman who accosted you in Bond Street, Charles’s ex-mistress. She is now Countess Lafontain. I chatted for a few minutes with one of the guests. An excellent opportunity to try out my rusty French. A garrulous woman, she was quite happy to reveal their history. Apparently, Angelique ran away from Paris carrying the count’s baby almost five years ago. He was married, apparently. But his wife has since died, and as soon as the war ended, he came to England to claim her. The boy, such a handsome child, was with her, and I must say he is the image of his father. I wonder if the count knows about Charles? And if Charles knows about him? How intriguing but best left to the past, dearest.
I found some beautiful fabric for an evening gown in Pall Mall at Harding Howell, silk velvet in a deep, deep green. You know how I adore green, so I will keep it until the next Season….”
Nellie lowered the page and stared into space. She had come to believe Charles when he’d assured her the boy was not his. He was not a man to lie. But how relieved she was that the Frenchwoman would not be in London eager for his return. Marian was right, however. She would not mention it. It was best left to the past.
She took up the letter again, the two pages crammed front and back in her sister’s small hand. Nat and Eliza have returned to Town, finally. Eliza says they have reconciled. She appears happier than she has been for a long time. And Nellie, they are expecting another child! This is a fecund period for our family, I must say. Mama is beside herself. Wait until she has your news…
“Oh, that is so good to hear,” Nellie said as Charles entered the room.
He came to sit on the arm of her chair. “What is, sweetheart?”
“Marian writes that Eliza and Nathaniel are expecting another baby.”
Charles stroked the back of her neck. “Good news indeed. It might be a late spring. Lambs are cavorting in the meadows.”
Could she detect a hint of disappointment in his voice? Nellie gazed up at him, and her lips trembled into a smile. “I think I might be with child, too, Charles.”
Rising to his feet, he stared down at her, hope in his eyes. “Nellie? Are you sure?”
“I’ve been waiting to tell you. But I am quite sure now, darling.”
“Oh, Nellie, my love!” Charles sank
