Page 78 of Wickedly Yours

Why do you have a chamber pot in here? What—”

Rowan sprinted to the desk replacing the ledger before her with the chamber pot. He was not a moment too soon. Poor Bella. He rubbed her back while the spasms shook her. For weeks she hadn’t been sleeping well and became sick nearly every afternoon at the same time. Worried his wife was truly ill, Rowan confided in his mother. Lady Marsh smiled knowingly and sent Bella a box of cherry tarts.

Bella assumed his mother was trying to poison her, suspicious of any overture Lady Marsh would make. While the relationship between Bella and his mother had improved, it was still rather…contentiousat times. Thankfully, Mother was too busy hovering over Petra, determined to marry her off, to pay much attention to Arabella. That would likely change though in light of recent developments.

“I think I need to lie down.”

Carefully, Rowan wiped her mouth with his handkerchief before picking her up and carrying her to the couch.

“I am capable of making my way to the couch, Malden.”

“Lay down.” He sat and placed her head in his lap, his fingers sliding through the mass of her hair to loosen the pins. “Better?”

She nodded, purring like a kitten as he gently massaged her scalp while they waited on the tea tray.

Rowan looked down at her with a smile. The woman in his arms meant everything to him and now Arabella would give him the most precious of gifts. Unlike many of his friends, Rowan did not view his marriage as a necessary evil. He and Arabella were partners in all things. She was fiercely loyal, brilliant in trade and a skilled negotiator. She terrified Hind as well as the manager he’d hired at the textile mills. But neither man could argue with her business acumen. Arabella was usually correct. Rowan adored her.

“Stop smiling like an idiot. I’m quite afraid.” The dark eyes shone with a hint of tears. “What if I’m not any good at it? I did not have the best example, after all. What if I make a mess of things?”

His finger slid down her jawline. “You won’t, my love.” She would be a wonderful mother although he expected her to be slightly overprotective.

“How can you be so sure?”

He smoothed the worry line from her forehead. “I love you.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “I still think it might be the duck.”