Page 33 of After the Abduction

A blush crept up her cheeks at the same time that a thousand little details clamored for her attention. Rosalind’s strange reaction whenever the impending birth of Helena’s baby was discussed. Her preoccupation of late with apothecaries. The wistful look she got whenever she saw children.

“They’ve only been married two and a half years.” Yet patience was not one of Rosalind’s virtues. Two and a half years without conceiving would seem like a lifetime to her. Juliet winced, remembering the good-natured teasing the family had heaped on Rosalind when Helena had gotten pregnant first after marrying second. And the way Rosalind hadn’t laughed it off as she usually did when they poked fun.

Something else occurred to her. “How did you know about the mare’s milk?” she blurted out. When a faint tinge of color touched his cheeks, she groaned. She really had no business discussing such an indelicate matter with a man. Yet curiosity got the better of her. “It’s just that I’ve never heard of it. And since I tended Papa during his illness, I’m familiar with physic.”

He cleared his throat nervously. “It’s an ancient remedy. No sensible woman uses it now, but that doesn’t stop quacks and the occasional stupid midwife from touting it as an old-fashioned solution. Or women desperate to conceive from attempting it.”

“Yes, but how would you have heard of it?” she persisted.

He shrugged. “My mother tried it.”

That shocked her. “You know that for a fact?” And how did a young man find out such a thing about his mother?

Closing his hand around a napkin, he murmured, “My uncle told me. Evidently she tried a number of remedies in her quest to have a child.”

When his fingers squeezed the napkin convulsively, she felt a stab of pity. Why had his mother tried so hard to conceive, yet left one of her children behind? No doubt he wondered the same thing. Yet his forbidding expression made it clear that any questions in that regard wouldn’t be welcome.

He caught her staring at him with concern, and his jaw tightened. He seemed to be weighing something, then said, “What actually worked for her was consulting the local wise woman.”

“Wise woman?”

He smiled faintly. “This may be Shropshire, Lady Juliet, but the blood of Wales runs through a goodly number of the county’s inhabitants, including my mother. In desperation, she spoke with my father’s tenant, Winifred, who reputedly could cure anything with her herbs. Whatever she gave Mother worked. Mother conceived twins.”

“Perhaps she was only lucky.”

“Perhaps. But Uncle Lew said she’d been trying for five years. And she conceived within three months of her first visit to Winnie.” He toyed with the napkin. “You know, Winnie still dispenses herbs and advice. Your sister might consider a visit to her as well. I’d be happy to take her.”

The offer surprised her, since it meant his involving himself in a most delicate family matter. “That’s very kind of you. Why would you do such a thing? Especially knowing that my brother-in-law might object.”

He shot her an enigmatic glance. “Your sister made a suggestion to me this morning that I begin to think has merit. I’d merely like to repay the favor. And I can promise that the wise woman won’t suggest anything harmful.”

That reassured her only a little. “I don’t know if I should interfere.” Not in this. How on earth could she tell Rosalind that she’d discussed this with Lord Templemore?

“Do as you think best, but if you change your mind, I usually rise early. If I’m not at breakfast, I’m in my study or my workshop. Tell your sister that, and we can arrange for a little visit that wouldn’t alarm your brother-in-law.”

“You mean, go behind his back.”

“If she wants.”

She sighed. “I’ll consider it.” In truth, she was sorely tempted to step in. It bothered her to see the couple argue, and of late there’d been tension between them. But she was always complaining about how they interfered in her life, so it was hardly fair of her to do the same. “In any case, thanks for the offer, Lord Templemore.”

“Please call me Sebastian,” he said softly. “At least while we’re in private.”

The intimacy in his tone banished all thoughts of her sister’s problems. He had a way of stripping her inner soul naked when he looked at her, as if he knew her better than she knew herself. It unnerved her. It thrilled her.

She should refuse to address him so…familiarly, yet she heard herself saying, “Very well, Sebastian.”

The name did suit him better than Lord Templemore or even Morgan. Templemore was the name of a lofty lord, and Morgan that of a reckless adventurer. Sebastian was a solid English name, perfect for a man who’d offer to help a stranger because someone else had done the same for his mother. That man she could understand and even like.

Now if only she could figure out which man was the real one.

With a pleased smile, he stood and held out his hand. “And now, my lady, it’s time.”

“For what?”

“Have you forgotten what you asked of me earlier?” His smile broadened. “It’s time for your first lesson in recognizing scoundrels.”

Chapter 7