Page 71 of Dangerous

Adam’s hands tightened on the wooden arms of his chair at the memory of Veronica’s rage. He’d worried around the clock when she’d been pregnant with both Eva and Melissa, terrified she would do something to harm her unborn children.

He would not have those worries this time. Mia’s face glowed with the knowledge she carried a child. In spite of an inability to keep food down, she looked happier than ever.

Adam had ordered every delicacy from the kitchen that he could think of that morning, hoping something would soothe her stomach. Part of him knew he was acting ridiculously, but another part refused to listen, not caring how foolish he might appear. He’d been overjoyed to learn that what pleased her most was simply the feel of his hands on her.

“Mm, yes, stroke my stomach,” she’d murmured, making contented sounds as he rubbed her flat belly. “I am feeling better already,” she promised, her face indeed looking less taut and pale.

In the days that followed he could not stop marveling that she not only allowed his touch, but sought it. Veronica had hidden herself from him as though she were obscene.

Mia, on the other hand, seemed even more determined to spend all their time naked, speculating about what he would think of her when she was big and round. Laughing and teasing him when she saw he was more aroused by her than before, something he’d not believed possible.

It was as if he’d been transported into some brighter, more intense version of his life. He was torn by emotions he’d not known he possessed, sensations he’d believed to have dried up and blown away long ago. Adam couldn’t bear to leave her for even a day, feeling as if he were missing part of himself.

He’d made two simple promises when he’d asked for her hand in marriage—one to her and one to himself—and he’d broken them both. He’d fallen in love with a woman who’d told him in plain English that she never wanted to live with her husband.

What the devil was he supposed to do now?

* * *

What the devil was she supposed to do now?

She was pregnant.

Mia took a sip of tea, hoping it would calm her churning stomach, if not her churning mind. Would Adam return to London now that she was breeding? Was the source of so much joy—the fact she was carrying his baby—also the death knell for the happy, wonderful life they’d been living?

Well, one thing was certain. She could not go off to Oran while carrying his child. She winced away from the relief and happiness she felt at finally making the decision. Was she really so shallow, so ephemeral, she could rejoice in abandoning her son?

She’d wrestled with the argument until she wanted to scream. In the end, she told herself it didn’t matter how she felt about her decision to stay—at least until she had the baby—it was the only decision she could make. That did not mean she couldn’t send her son money.

The door opened and Gamble stepped into the room.

“You wished to see me, my lady?” The blond man’s attitude toward her had become surlier as the weeks passed. He was long past the point of believing she intended to share anything with him, let alone her favors. She’d given him expensive gifts and generous vails—far more than she gave any of the other servants—but he was not appeased.

Mia smiled, wanting to set him at ease before she sent him on her errand. “It occurs to me you might be missing London, Gamble? Would you care to go back for a few days?”

He squinted and his mouth opened. Nothing came out.

“I’m not displeased with you, Gamble. I just thought you might be a little homesick. This is your first time away from London, isn’t it?”

He colored, whether in embarrassment or pleasure, Mia could not have guessed. “Yes, my lady. I’m London born and bred.”

He sounded so proud Mia smiled. “I need you to take a package to Eastbourne. After that, you could go to Exley House and spend a week before returning to Brighton. Would you like that?”

This time he was definitely flushing with pleasure. “Yes, my lady.”

“Good.” She stood and went to her desk. She paused, as if just remembering something. “And Gamble?”

“Yes, my lady?” He came closer, his eyebrows raised in question, but his mind clearly on the holiday ahead.

“This is a private matter.” She opened the desk drawer and extracted twenty pounds, which she held out to him. His eyes widened and his hand hesitated. “Take it. You will need it for traveling money. Whatever is left is yours. Consider it a token of my appreciation.”

He locked eyes with her, his expression not one a good servant would show his mistress. “Very good, my lady.”

Mia wondered if it had been wise to give him so much. Well, it was too late now. She opened the lower drawer on the desk and extracted the slim but heavy packet. It contained her mother’s jewels, all except a few pieces. She’d never gotten around to selling them, but Bouchard would know what to do.

She looked up at him, considering his formfitting livery. “There is a direction on the packet. The man in question might not be around when you arrive, but the owner of the Pig and Whistle will know what to do. I want you to leave today. Take whatever method of travel is most expeditious. You may take your time on the return journey, if you’d rather. Here—” She held up the parcel. “I don’t want you to walk out of here with this in your hand, Gamble. Is there any way you can tuck it into your coat?”

He looked too befuddled by the twenty pounds she’d given him to find her request odd. He pulled out his lapel and undid a couple buttons. Mia stood on tiptoe and shoved the packet into the opening he made. She pushed it down harder, making sure it was secure, and then fastened the buttons. “It’s hardly noticeable,” she said, smoothing her hand over the front of his broad chest. “I want you to keep—”