His face drained of colour and his eyes widened. “My God! Is there a likelihood that you’ll miscarry? I don’t care what the weather’s like; I shall fetch the physician myself even if I’ve to dig my way out.”
She wished the words unsaid; she had wanted to hurt him, to make sure he didn’t attempt to make love to her again but not to send him out into the snow to meet his death. “I shall remain in bed; there was no more than a twinge. I’m sure with rest nothing will happen to this child.”
His expression stabbed her heart. He looked so relieved, so abjectly miserable, she was driven to broach the subject she’d intended to talk to him about last night. “Alexander, your Mr Bentley believes that my home is intended for him when he comes to live with you. As I always meant to move back into Newcomb when my time comes I think it might be prudent for me to return in May, before you get back. However …”
Something flashed across his face. Could it have been triumph? “I shall be eternally grateful, my dear, if you do so. The thought of being obliged to share my home this summer with that ninny quite appalls me. At least in there we shan’t be seeing him every time we turn the corner.”
“Alexander, you did not allow me to finish. I shall only return if I can have my own staff around me. I’ve no wish to be waited on by those presently in London.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I can dismiss anyone who has offended you.”
“Good grief, there’s no need to do that. Most have been with you this age, they believe they are doing their duty by keeping me from damaging your reputation. As long as I’ve your word the people I’ve gathered here won’t be under the jurisdiction of your butler or house-keeper, I shall be happy.”
“You have it, Isobel. Why don’t you select those you would rather not have at Newcomb and they can serve Bentley?”
“Thank you, that’s an excellent notion. I suppose we must set up the nursery in readiness for the arrival.”
“Leave all that to me. As you don’t intend to be here to watch your child grow up I believe it’s my prerogative to select who will do the job for you.”
She quailed under his frosty stare. “Of course, Alexander, no doubt you have an old retainer lurking in a cottage somewhere who can be recalled.”
Talking about the baby was distressing. She wanted him to go but suddenly he was sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, things will work out for the best one way or the other. I’m sorry I was so brusque, but the thought of you not being here to see our baby is as upsetting to me as it is to you.”
His thumb caught the tear trickling down her cheek and rubbed it away. She turned her head, when he was being like this she could feel her anger melting, could almost believe they might have a life together after all.
Chapter Thirteen
The snow showed no sign of melting and Isobel resigned herself to the fact Alexander could not depart for several more days. Gradually she became accustomed to sharing her meals and her home with him once more. He was so pleasant, so charming and such lively company that being incarcerated with him was no hardship.
The fourth night of his visit they had been playing an entertaining game of Piquet, which he had won, when he tossed his cards on the table and walked over to the window. “I believe it’s raining, the snow will be gone by tomorrow.” He peered behind the heavy curtains and nodded.
“Listen, you can hear the flames spitting. It must be decidedly heavy to come down the chimney like this. The roads will be a quagmire; I think you had best wait until the carriage arrives. Your leg isn’t sufficiently recovered for you to ride back to Grosvenor Square,” Isobel said.
He grinned and stared ruefully at his injury. “As always, my dear, you’re quite correct. In which case, you must endure my presence for a further day or two.”
Resuming his seat he stared into the flames while she picked up her novel. Unexpectedly Sam appeared at the door his face creased with concern. He looked from one to the other and then addressed his mistress. “Excuse me for interrupting, my lady, but I’ve to tell you the ceiling has just collapsed in your bed chamber.”
“Good grief! How can that be? The roof was sound when I moved in, and we have had several heavy downpours since with no leaks at all.”
“I reckon the weight of the snow cracked the tiles and with all that melting and then this downpour it came right through.”
Alexander got to his feet. “Is it just this one room or are others affected?”
“There’s leaks springing up all down that side of the building, your grace.”
“The tiles are ancient. There’s been nothing done to this place for generations, small wonder they have given out under these extreme conditions. Move her grace’s belongings into my bed chamber.”
Isobel shot up sending her novel flying into the grate. Alexander grabbed the poker and flicked it from the flames before it burnt. Picking up the book he extinguished the remaining sparks with his fingers. “Not seriously damaged, a trifle pungent but definitely still readable.”
Her protest about his highhanded suggestion that she move into his bed chamber remained unspoken. “But what about your hand? Have you hurt it?”
He waggled his fingers in front of her face. “See, no damage to them either. I must go and see—”
“Alexander, I’m quite sure my staff are capable of placing buckets under the drips where necessary. There’s something I wish to say that’s more important than you overseeing the positioning of receptacles.”
Shrugging he returned to his chair and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Well, my dear, what’s it you wish to say to me?”
“If you think that I…”
“There’s no need to fly into the boughs, Isobel. I’ve no intention of remaining in my bed chamber once you’re safely installed there. You can be quite certain Watkins will be moving my belongings as we speak—after all he knows exactly how things are between us, does he not?”
Isobel ignored his comment. “Oh! There is something I’ve been meaning to say to you about the settlement we agreed to the other day.” His eyes were watchful but he made no comment. Emboldened by his silence she continued. “Sam was under the erroneous impression that you were sending him details of the estates you own and I did not disabuse him. On reflection I think it might be better if I moved somewhere within your demesne, I’ve no wish to cause unnecessary scandal for you or the child.”
He thumped the table scattering the cards on the floor. “Devil take it! Why did I not think of that myself? There’s already an estate you have undisputed claim to. Highfield House in Epping is held for each duchess in her lifetime. The revenue from the farms, which is substantial, will have been banked in your name since our marriage.”
“Why does this estate not pass down to the eldest daughter? It seems strange an estate should move from one duchess to the next like this.”
Alexander glanced down at his boots. “This estate comes down through my maternal great-great grandmother. You are not the first duchess to wish to live apart from her husband.”
“Are you telling me unhappy marriages are expected in this family?”
“I believe the Dukes of Rochester are infamous for their infidelities. My grandmother died at Highfield House, as did my own mama.”
Her stomach curdled, she stared at him as if seeing him clearly for the first time all week. Was he incapable of being the kind of man she wanted because he was genetically disposed to philander and abuse? Tears pricked her eyes as she recalled what Bentley had said about Lady Fulbright.