Once a Wallflower, At Last His Love (Scandalous Seasons #6)(103)

She winked. “I did say them quite well.” Their laughter blended together and then Hermione shifted under him.

He registered her slight wince of discomfort and rolled off her…remembering too late… He grunted as he landed with a hard thump on the floor.

Hermione peered over the side of the sofa, her cheeks pink from their loving, and a quivering smile on her lips. “Oh, dear, I trust you’re uninjured?” She held a hand out to assist him up. Sebastian took her fingers and pulled her down atop him. She landed with a squeal on him, her luscious dark brown hair a silken curtain about them. She swatted at him. “Oh, that wasn’t well done.” She propped her elbows upon his chest and laid her chin in her hand. “There is something I would say to you, Sebastian.”

He shifted her sideways, upending her resting position. “Is it a request for me to make love to you again?” He palmed her breast.

“Er…well, no.” She paused. “Though I suppose I would be willing to again.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare force such a chore upon you,” he pledged solemnly and dropped a kiss upon her breast.

“N-no ch-chore, really. B-but…” Her lids fluttered closed. “Oh, dear, I-I d-do struggle to think w-when you do that.”

“Then don’t think,” he whispered. He slipped a hand between their bodies and caressed her downy thatch once more.

“B-but th-there is something I really would…should say.”

Sebastian gently rolled her under him. He wedged a knee between her legs and parted them, then lay between her warm, welcoming thighs. “What is it?”

“I-I’m…that is to say…” She moaned as he pressed into her once more. “I’m with child.”

He froze, unblinking. A loud humming filled his ears. He wasn’t one of those old, deaf dukes, yet it had sounded remarkably like…

“A babe. A child. A bairn.”

Yes, that is indeed what she’d said. Sebastian surged to his feet. He hurriedly stuffed himself inside his breeches.

She shoved up onto her elbows. “Sebastian?”

He jabbed a finger. “By God, Hermione, why didn’t you tell me? I could have hurt you.” With something akin to horror, he picked her up and ran his hands over her arms. Christ, he’d yanked her down from the sofa and—

She rolled her eyes. “Sebastian, I am not broken. I’m merely with child.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “How?”

“Oh, the usual way,” she said dryly. Then, her smile slipped. “I imagine the night you…” She colored.

The night he’d left. His heart tightened amidst the shame battering at his insides.

“Are you not pleased? I’d thought…” Her words trailed off.

Ah, God, how could she still not realize? He had been nothing before her. His happiness, his sole reason for living was intrinsically tied to her happiness. She made him want to be a better man for her, because of her… Sebastian swept her into his arms. “If I were more poetic with words, wife, I would be able to convey that I’m elated.” He kissed her lips. “Thrilled.”

Hermione laughed. “More joyous than if the king had given you sole right to the sun, moon, and stars?”

“What need have I of the sun, moon, and stars when at last I have everything I should ever need?”

She tilted her head back to receive his kiss. “And what is that?”

“Your love.”





E





pilogue

The carriage hit another bump. Hermione winced.

Her husband trained a glower on her. “I daresay this was a horrendous decision. You shouldn’t be in a carriage.”

She sighed. It would seem in addition to walking, dancing, and climbing stairs, she could now add riding in a carriage to all the activities forbidden by her overprotective husband. If she didn’t realize it was merely born of love, she’d have clouted him over the head long ago.

Another bump.

Another wince.

And another black glare.

“I want you to meet my sister,” she said.

“As do I, but not at the expense of you or the babe.”

Hermione drew back the curtain and peered at the passing countryside. It was indeed going to be a long seven months. Very long.

The carriage hit another nasty bump in the road and Sebastian cursed.

Hermione let the curtain go and it fluttered back into place. “Do tell me, husband, what activities are permissible for someone in my hobbled condition?”

On the opposite bench he bristled with annoyance. “There are any number of activities. Why…” He opened his mouth and then closed it.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

“Or…”

“You didn’t provide a first. An ‘or’ requires something before it.”

His mouth flattened with annoyance and he reached for the folded package on the seat beside him.

Warmth unfurled through her belly at his thoughtfulness. “You’ve given me a gift.” No one had given her anything since before her life had been flipped upside down more than ten years ago.

“It is a book.”

Amusement tugged at her lips. “Generally, a person awaits for the respective person to open said gift before revealing the contents of the package,” she said wryly.