The Earl's Pregnant Bride

Brooke produced a slow, mean smile. “Allow me to congratulate you.”

“Thank you.”

“Granny’s asked me to go away, did you know? For a week. I’ll stay with Fiona.” Brooke’s lifelong friend had a house in Chelsea. “It’s partly a reprimand for my behavior this morning. But it’s mostly for you, of course. To give you time settle in as countess of Hartmore without having to deal with me.”

“Do you want me to tell Eloise to let you stay, is that it?”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t dream of that.” Brooke stared up at her, defiant.

“Brooke, I’m not going to beg you to stay.” And who was she kidding? It would be a relief to have the woman gone.

“It’s fine.” Brooke gave a lazy shrug. “Time away from here with someone who loves me is just what I need about now.”

Genny wanted to grab her and shake her. “Why does it have to be my fault that you feel unloved at Hartmore?”

“Did I say I felt unloved?”

“You didn’t have to.”

Brooke made a humphing sound. “Well, you can take what I said however you want to.”

Genny asked with excruciating civility, “Was there anything else you needed to discuss with me?”

“Not a thing.”

“Then, let’s go back in.”

Brooke swept to her feet and they turned together for the house.

* * *

The remainder of the day passed uneventfully. Brooke and Geoffrey left for London.

In the afternoon, the rest of them walked down to the lake, where they threw sticks for the dogs to fetch. Rory took more pictures and they shared a picnic. And that night, they all enjoyed a lovely dinner in honor of the bride and groom and the visiting Bravo-Calabrettis.

After the meal, Genny’s father and Rafe disappeared into Rafe’s study. Eloise pleaded exhaustion and went to bed. Genny, her sister and her mother went out to sit at an iron table under the stars in the terrace garden. It was good to have a little time together, just the three of them.

At a quarter past eleven, her father and Rafe came out. Genny glanced up and Rafe met her eyes....