She blinked back tears. She was a veritable watering pot nowadays and the slightest thing seemed to set her off. When Alexander returned she would make her peace with him. Her unexpected brush with mortality had given her the push she needed. She doubted she would ever forget what he’d done to her, but maybe now was the time to forgive and give him a chance to demonstrate that his metamorphosis was genuine and permanent.

What a strange day it had been. First there had been Sally’s funeral service and then an encounter with an armed man. She prayed life would be less eventful in the ensuing months for her constitution was no longer as robust as it had once been. She feared many more shocks of this sort might bring on a miscarriage. The conception of this child was now unimportant; she loved and wanted the baby and wished the infant to be born at full term and not prematurely.

Good grief! Alexander was not the only one who had changed. She wasn’t going to abandon her baby to go and live on an unknown estate in Essex. Her life was here at Newcomb bringing up this child.

Dusk had fallen when Alexander eventually joined her. He looked less grim than he had when he’d set out. She greeted him with a smile. “You have spoken to Bill? It’s a great shame Jed didn’t return before you all left for the funeral and I took my walk.”

“Indeed it is, sweetheart.” Wearily he dropped into the armchair opposite the day bed she was relaxing on. “He was quite correct. We found evidence of others having been in the wood. The trail led to the back lane but there we lost it. I’ve spent the remainder of the day riding around the farms warning my tenants to be vigilant, to ensure they have bolted the doors before they retire.”

“Could not Hill have done this for you? “

“Of course, but I wished to let my people know I have their safety at heart.”

“Will the militia be here tomorrow to search for them?”

 “I’ve written a letter to Squire Rollins telling him what happened today, I can do no more. I must insist you take no more solitary walks until these men have been apprehended.”

She bristled. “You insist?” His shout of laughter sent her tea cup flying and it smashed in the hearth. “Now look what you made me do.”

“Don’t ruffle your pretty feathers, my love; I’m certain one broken cup won’t be noticed. I shall rephrase my sentence.” His wicked smile played havoc with her equilibrium. “My dear, might I request you reconsider your daily promenades? I should be most distressed if you were shot by an itinerant veteran.”

“You’re being ridiculous, sir. However, I shall bow to your position as head of the household and follow your instructions. In future I shall expect you to be downstairs at seven o’clock each morning to accompany me on my walk.”

“A hit direct, my love. I shall be delighted to come with you. I am also certain the two outside men who must check the grounds before we go out will be equally thrilled you wish to walk so early.” He grinned. “I’m relieved I don’t have to thunder off to London today. My thigh is deucedly painful.”

“I’d quite forgotten you have an injury. Indeed, you’ve been racing about these past days without the slightest sign of a limp.”

He clutched his chest and fell back in his chair. “I’m in need of your loving care, sweetheart. See—I’m swooning.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alexander. You’re perfectly well.” Her smile slipped - he did look a trifle pale. “My dear, shall I fetch Bill to take care of you?”

“Absolutely not! I’m funning—my leg is sore but will be perfectly fine by tomorrow.”

There was little point in changing to dine so she spent a further delightful hour discussing the high price of corn, the woeful provision for ex-servicemen and whether it was now safe to tour the continent. When Bill came in to announce dinner was served she could not remember having spent such a relaxed afternoon with Alexander.

After dinner he smiled at him as he lounged at the table. “Do you wish to remain on your own to drink port? I warn you I shall be retiring soon so if you linger long I won’t be in the drawing-room when you come through.” Isobel had been persuaded to drink a glass of champagne in honour of the passing of her abigail. The unaccustomed alcohol had quite gone to her head making her feel as skittish as a school-girl.

“I’ve had sufficient to drink, thank you, my dear. I’ve finished off the bottle—far more than I normally have.”

She snorted inelegantly. “Your normal intake, if I remember rightly, would include three bottles of claret, port and a decanter of brandy. Heavens! I would consider what you have imbibed this evening as a mere bagatelle.”

 Not remaining to hear his reply she almost skipped through the communicating door into the drawing-room. She was not unduly surprised to hear his chair crash back and to see him right behind her.

“I’ve changed, sweetheart, I no longer drink to excess nor do I gamble. I am a reformed man in every way.”

“I’ve come to a decision, Alexander. The more I think about it the less I want Mr Bentley to have anything to do with Newcomb. Neither can I in all conscience abandon this baby. You were quite right to point out children need both parents in order to prosper.”

 His eyes widened, he looked shocked. Did he not want her to remain? Then he was beside her and before she could tell him to desist she was in his arms. She meant to push him away but her hands crept around his neck and buried themselves in his hair.

He drew back before matters progressed to their inevitable conclusion. “Darling, we can’t make love here. We must retire to your bedchamber.”

Her lips glowed from his kisses, every inch of her tingled from his touch, there was nothing she would like more than to feel him inside her, to experience the ecstasy they’d shared at the beginning of their marriage, but common sense returned. This was not the time to let him get closer and she wasn’t certain such activities would not be harmful to the baby.

“No, Alexander, we must not do this. I don’t feel my pregnancy is secure enough to risk such vigorous activity especially after the double shocks I’ve suffered today.”

At her words his ardour shrunk, the hectic colour along his cheekbones faded and his eyes returned to their normal blue-grey. “I’ve no wish to jeopardize the health of the child. I hadn’t realised something so pleasurable could be harmful.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s just I find you damn near irresistible. I shall have to find other outlets for my energy.”

She could not allow him to believe things were fully restored between them She was still not quite sure. “There’s something else I wish to tell you. If this baby is a boy then, at the moment, my role as your true wife will be ended; I shall live here in the east wing, but not depart from Newcomb entirely.”

“And if it’s a girl?”

She could not look away. She was pinned like a butterfly on a board beneath his gaze. “If our child is female then I shall remain with you as your wife until you have your son and heir.”

*   *   *

Alexander tried to school his features, not show his elation, for she might misinterpret his reaction and think it was triumph not joy. He knelt down beside her and took her hands within his own. They were all but lost beneath his. “Then, my darling, I shall pray every night that this baby of ours is a girl.”

“And I shall pray for the opposite. I might never be able to produce another child, remember we thought I was barren. I thought securing your title was everything to you?”

Gently he raised her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one in turn. “No, Isobel, you’re everything to me. I shall count myself a lucky man if we produce a dozen daughters if it means that you remain as my loving wife.”

Giggling she snatched back her hands. Good grief! She was a trifle bosky. Would she have committed herself if she had been entirely sober? He must pray she did not recant in the morning. “Come along, Isobel, I shall carry you up to bed. It isn’t I that has consumed too much alcohol tonight, but you, my love.”

He left her in the capable hands of her new maid and returned to the drawing-room to wait for the coffee tray to arrive.  There were still aspects of today’s events he was not happy with. It seemed odd these renegades should choose to burgle Newcomb in broad daylight.

Devil take it! The men had known the house would be empty - Jed would have mentioned the girl’s funeral whilst he was in the village and had, no doubt, told all and sundry his master was allowing the entire staff to attend. The vagabonds must have seen this as the perfect opportunity. If Othello had not found them, God knows what might have happened.

He stretched out his legs on the day bed; Isobel’s scent lingered on the upholstery and he sniffed appreciatively. She was almost convinced he had become a man she could love again, but he wanted to do something else, something tangible, to prove his credentials as a loving and caring husband.

When he eventually retired he was sure he had the perfect solution. What he planned to do for her would not only surprise her it would make her life at Newcomb more enjoyable.

*   *   *

Something woke Isobel. Had Alexander changed his mind, ignored her strictures to remain out of her bed? The all-too-familiar heat spread from her toes to her fingertips. Despite her protestations she knew she could not refuse him.

“I should not be here, darling, I promise I haven’t come to importune you. I’ve come to tell you what I plan to do next door.”

“Could it not wait until tomorrow? I can’t think of anything that will make up to the fact that you have woken me up in the middle of the night.”

By this time he was lighting candles and she had no option but to sit and listen to his proposal. She was forced to admit her irritation was mainly because she was disappointed he had not come to make love to her.

“There, my dear. Tomorrow I am going to move the kitchen at Newcomb so that in future you shall have your meals served to you hot.”

Whatever she had expected him to say it had not been this. What an extraordinary conversation to be having at midnight. “Move a kitchen? It can’t be done. What about the chimney, the scullery and all the other paraphernalia involved with preparing food? The kitchen was put where it was for a reason…”

“This was to make sure we had unpalatable and unpleasant food and that all our staff ate better than us.”

His playfulness was infectious. “In which case might it not be better for us to move into the servants’ quarters and for the servants to live in Newcomb proper?”

“A sound idea, my love, but I’ve a better one. I still have the drawings the architect made and have been perusing them these past hours. We have more rooms on the ground floor than any sensible family could ever use, I doubt I’ve been into half of them and I’ve lived here all my life.”

She yawned and was too late to disguise it. “Tell me tomorrow, Alexander. Go away now and let me sleep.”

In answer he strolled across and sat on the edge of the bed. “There’s something else I wish to tell you, darling girl, I’m irrevocably in love with you. No, don’t protest, I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, but I wanted you to know.” He leaned down placing his hands on either side of her and his kiss was sweet and loving. The ice around her heart finally melted.

Chapter Seventeen

“What kind of day is it today, Ellie? Do you think it will be hot?”

Isobel’s abigail flung back the shutters letting the sunlight pour into the bed chamber. “It’s a beautiful day, my lady, I reckon as his grace was right to delay your move back into the main building until them April showers had gone.”

“Have you seen the improvements, Ellie? I’ve not been allowed to peep. Do you know I’ve not felt so excited since I was a small child waiting for my name day.”

Her brow creased. Today was in fact her anniversary and she would be one and twenty. Alexander had never acknowledged her birthday. Indeed, she had no notion when his birthday was, but he must be well into his thirties. What a ridiculous situation! How could she have been married to a man without actually knowing how old he was? High time this matter was cleared up.

“I’ve not been in; no one has apart from them that are working in there. That lot who came back from London are the only ones who know what’s been done.” The girl carefully placed the tray on the bedside table. “Shall I put out the pale green dimity, my lady? The one with the pretty daisies sewn around the neck and hem?”