'Yes,' she breathed. 'I felt the baby move.' She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. 'Wait.'
They stood for a moment, surrounded by sunlight and birdsong.
'Yes! Yes, I felt it, too.' Gideon gave a delighted laugh. 'My child.' He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently. 'At last it feels real. Is that the first time you have noticed it?'
'I suspected it before, but it was never so certain.'
'It is like a miracle.' He tucked her arm in his again and they resumed their walk. 'I would like to feel my child kicking every day.'
'Then stay, at least a few more days.'
Seeing her shy, hopeful smile, Gideon was sorely tempted, but he glanced up at that moment and saw the viscount at the drawing-room window. A lonely figure gazing down at them, reminding him of the perils of loving one's wife too much.
'You would soon grow tired of my company,' he said lightly. 'Besides, I promised Gwen I would look in upon her at Brighton. Then I have to set work in motion at Chalcots, if it is to be ready for you and the baby.'
'Yes, of course.'
Was that a sigh in her voice? She had schooled her face into a smile and began to talk on other subjects. It was for the best, he told himself. Time away from Nicky would be a good idea. He was growing far too fond of her.
* * *
Dominique knew she had erred. Gideon had withdrawn from her as soon as she had asked him to stay, the moment she had shown a weakness, a desire to cling to him. Pride came to her aid and helped her to hide her disappointment. She was his wife, the mother of his child, but he could not love her and she must not expect it.
* * *
Dominique's sunny spirits had revived by the following morning and she stood at the door with the viscount to watch Gideon ride away. When they turned to go back into the house Lord Rotham held out his arm to her.
'How am I to entertain you, my dear? I would not have you suffering from ennui.'
'What with paying morning visits and receiving them, and the house to look after, I am well entertained, my lord.'
'You must not overtire yourself,' he said quickly.
She laughed as she preceded him into the house.
'I promise you I shall not do that. However, there is a little change I should like to propose.'
Those hazel eyes, so like Gideon's, held a wary smile. 'Well, madam?'
'I think we should dine in the breakfast room. With just the two of us it seems so silly to use the dining room. The servants have to carry everything twice as far and the table is so very long...'
She thought for a moment he was going to refuse, but after regarding her soberly for a moment he turned and made his way across to his study, saying over his shoulder, 'Whatever you think fit, my dear. Tell Colne to organise it.'
* * *
In an effort to keep herself from missing Gideon, Dominique threw herself into the running of the house. Her body was swelling and she was a little apprehensive, especially when she saw the viscount regarding her so anxiously, but she put her faith in Dr Bolton, who had told her she was perfectly healthy. Besides, there was far too much to do for her to take to her bed. She persuaded the viscount to allow the aged gardener to take on another boy, so that the shrubbery could be tidied up and the paths weeded. Inside the house she explored rooms that had been shut up for years, opening windows and ordering chimneys to be swept in readiness for the winter. She found trunks of material in the attics and used some of it to make cushions, which she scattered on the carved wooden chairs in the drawing room.
Gradually, as summer wore on, the old house came alive under her care, and such was her tact that the servants were happy to oblige her, polishing and dusting and cleaning the rooms until Mrs Ellis declared that the old house was looking almost as good as it had done when Lady Rotham was alive. She also confided to Colne that the master was looking better for the company.
'Aye,' returned the butler, 'he has even ordered the carriage tomorrow, to drive out with Mrs Albury. That will be the first time he has been further than the park for years, save to go to church on Sundays. Bringing the master out of himself, she is. She's proving herself to be a godsend, Mrs Ellis, even if Master Gideon was hoaxed into marrying her.'
The housekeeper wagged a finger at him, frowning.
'I hold no truck with that rumour and I'll thank you not to repeat it in front of the servants, Mr Colne.'
'As if I would,' he retorted, affronted. 'But 'tis what Warner told me Master Gideon had written to his father. Tricked, he was, by the lady's cousin, Lord Martlesham, and that wild set the young master used to run around with.'
'That's as may be, but Master Gideon is changed now, anyone can see that.' Mrs Ellis folded her arms, a satisfied twinkle in her kindly eyes. 'He and the new mistress is a match made in heaven, you mark my words.'
* * *
With a liveried coachman on the box and a footman standing up behind them, Dominique found her drive out with the viscount a much more stately excursion than when Gideon had taken her out in the phaeton, but she enjoyed it very much, as she told her father-in-law when he expressed his surprise at finding her in the drawing room after dinner that night.
'You have had a busy day, my dear. I would not have you tire yourself by sitting here with me late into the night.'
She laughed at that.
'A steady drive with you was a tonic, my lord, and not exhausting at all.'
'Nevertheless, I have sent a note to Dr Bolton to call tomorrow morning to see you.'
'I saw him two days ago and he declared me perfectly healthy.' Dominique bit her lip, then added in a milder tone, 'As I explained to Gideon several times, I always feel better for a little fresh air.'
'My son is anxious for your well-being.'
'A little too anxious,' she replied, smiling. 'Before we left London Dr Harris told him that we ladies should not be cosseted and encouraged to think ourselves ill-' She broke off, flushing, and added haltingly, 'I beg your pardon. I realise that not everyone is as fortunate in their health.'
'You are thinking of Gideon's mother.'
'Yes. I am very sorry if my condition brings back unhappy memories.'
'It does, but your presence at Rotham more than compensates for that.' He stared into the fire. 'It was my fault, you see.'
'My lord-'
'I loved her too much, and she-she could deny me nothing. I wore her out.'
He put a hand across his eyes. They were sitting together on the sofa before the fire and she touched his arm.
'Lord Rotham, I am sure-'
He shook his head.
'There is no excuse. She was delicate and I was too hot-headed, too passionate.' He put his weight on his stick to get up and walk to the hearth. 'I only realised what I had lost after she had died. But I made sure Gideon knew of it. I would not have him make the same mistake in his own marriage.'
Dominique thought of Gideon's letters. They were cheery, full of the entertainments and diversions he was enjoying. She could not believe he had gone away to avoid temptation.
'I think your case was very different,' she said candidly. 'You were very much in love with your wife.'
'Ah.' He rested one arm on the mantelshelf and gazed down into the empty fireplace. 'That is something else for which you should blame me, my dear. I am the reason Gideon plunged into marriage.
'When James was... After James died, I refused to let Gideon leave Rotham. He was my heir and I needed him to learn about the estate. He was a young man and needed to see more of the world, I should have understood that. When he inherited the Telford fortune it was only natural he should kick over the traces and go off to town. I live very retired here, but I have acquaintances in London and what I heard of Martlesham's set worried me deeply. Even then I could not see that it was my own doing-if only I had been less hard on the boy-!
'Last December, when Gideon came home, I could only criticise his way of life. Is it any wonder that he stormed off back to his friends?' He turned to look at Dominique, the sadness of the world in his eyes. 'It resulted in a marriage neither of you wanted and I beg your pardon, my dear.'
Dominique forced a smile.
'What is done cannot be undone, but I intend to be a good wife to Gideon.' She went over to him, reaching out to take his hands. 'My lord, I am not a delicate flower from the hothouse that wilts at the first chill breeze. My mother always told me I came of sturdy stock. I promise you if I am tired I shall rest, but otherwise let me do my duty here.'
He regarded her silently for a long, long moment, then nodded.
'Very well. I will send again to Bolton in the morning and tell him not to call. You must forgive me, my dear, I am an interfering old fool.'
With great daring she reached up and planted a kiss on his lean cheek.