The Sextet Presents… The Lady Takes a Pair [In Days of Olde] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (13 page)

“Grandchild?” William said with a start. “Have I missed something?”

“Perhaps,” Nick said blithely. “I know Juliet has.” He cocked his head in her direction. “Haven’t you?”

She peered at him through narrowed lids. “I do have my suspicions. However, I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”

William still seemed puzzled.

“Oh, come now, Will,” Nick said. “Surely you’ve noticed there hasn’t been a single break in our wedded bliss?”

“Well, yes, but…”

Nick shot a knowing look at his wife. “My astute footman has clearly lost track of time since we were wed.”

“I cannot blame him, my lord.” Juliet put down her book. “We
have
been rather…busy.”

“It is fully six weeks since the wedding,” Nick announced. “I think we can safely assume that our dear Juliet is with child.”

William came perilously close to dropping the teapot. “Truly?”

Nick replied with a nod and a broad grin, but Juliet put up a hand. “We should wait a few more weeks to be sure. No need to get excited over what may turn out to be nothing.” She gave William a reassuring smile, although she wasn’t certain it was enough to ward off the fit of apoplexy to which he appeared to be in danger of succumbing. “Help him, Nick!”

“Oh, my
word
,” Nick exclaimed. Leaping to his feet, he hauled William’s wilting form onto the seat he’d just vacated. “I always thought it was the
mother
who suffered from fainting spells.”

“I haven’t fainted,” William said, though his voice
did
sound rather weak. “At least, not yet.”

Dipping a napkin into her tea, Juliet bathed his face, which had gone quite shockingly pale. “You poor dear,” she soothed. “We shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

“I was under the impression we’d broken it to him gently,” Nick said. “I never knew you had such delicate sensibilities, William.”

“I have never thought about someone I loved giving birth to a baby before. I cannot imagine the pain you must endure.”

It was Juliet’s turn to feel faint, but it had nothing to do with the impending pangs of childbirth. “Do you really love me, Will?”

“More than I can say.”

“Come now,” Nick chided. “That should come as no surprise. He makes love to you constantly.”

She shook her head. “Perhaps, but he’s never said it before.”

“No?” Nick blinked. “Neither have I, come to think of it. No, wait. I distinctly recall promising to love, honor, and cherish you—before God, in fact.”

She smiled up at him. “You did, indeed, my lord. However, you would not be the first man to say those words without truly meaning them.”

“You cannot believe that,” Nick protested. “Can you?”

“Why don’t you tell her?” William whispered. “It’s the sort of thing everyone needs to hear.”

“My dear Juliet,” Nick said. “I adore you—and love you—with at least half of my heart. The other half shall forever belong to William.”

She heaved a sigh. “And you each have half of my heart, as well. I love you both so very, very dearly.”

“Our hearts must soon be divided into thirds,” Will reminded them. “Eventually even fourths or fifths.”

Juliet nodded. “True, but then, loving hearts have no boundaries.”

“And we have three of them,” Nick said, smiling. “I believe we’ll do.”

A native of Louisville, Kentucky, Cheryl Brooks has recently retired after thirty-five years of critical-care nursing to become a full-time writer. A lifelong lover of horses and animals in general, she lives with her husband, two sons, two horses, four cats, and two dogs in rural Indiana. She enjoys cooking, gardening, and has played guitar since the age of ten.

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