When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal #4) - Stacy Reid Page 0,52

am having a baby. That I am to be a mother.”

“And now?”

The radiance of her smile hit him squarely in the gut.

“I…I find that I am looking forward so very much to meeting my child. I never imagined I would feel such a love for someone I’ve never met before.” She gave him a tender, searching look. “It must be quite odd for you as well. Two months ago, you were not a father.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug and looked away as if made uncomfortable by her assessment.

He placed a finger under her chin and directed her gaze back to him. “I was never a man afraid of changes. The more unexpected they were, the more challenging.”

“So you have no fear?” she whispered, her gaze searching every nuance of his expression.

He held up his thumb and forefinger into a pinch. Then signed. “Maybe just a smidgen. I have no wish to disappoint you or the baby. If you find that I am disappointing your expectations, my lady, I ask you tell me right away.”

She laughed, the sound light…and perhaps even happy. “That I shall do,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of his chin. With all the kisses they exchanged today, this one…unfathomably this one made his throat ache with its sweetness.

His fingers jerked to life, and he asked, “Will you move into my chamber?”

Chapter Ten

Phoebe nearly choked, she drew in her breath so sharply. And it had nothing to do with how delightfully scandalous she was pressed up against her husband, nor did it have to do with the wonderful kisses she swore she could still feel against her mouth or the molten need which had settled hot and troubling low in her belly.

For a moment, Phoebe did not comprehend his meaning, then she wondered if she misread the signs. She had been diligent in studying his language, even reading the sign manual and dictionary written by Charles Michel de l’Epée, a man Hugh said had the honor of being called the father of sign language. It had been quite fascinating to learn this new language and to discover that their British manuals had variations on certain signs. It was all so very illuminating, and it had helped her immensely along with the daily conversational lessons she had with her husband. “Please repeat,” she whispered, watching his face intently. “Did you…did you ask me to move into your chamber?”

He reached for the paper and quill, pressing them against her lap to write. Whenever he had a lot to say, he would do this, fearing perhaps she would not be able to keep pace as he expressed himself.

We will convert your room to be a nursery for the baby.

Emotions tightened her throat as he continued writing.

On our wing of the house, it is only our chambers, a few sitting rooms, a music room, and a smaller library. The nursery is on the east wing, and I’ve seen you standing in that room looking forlorn. I suspect you want to be closer to the child, so let us share my exceptionally large room and our baby will only be a connecting door away. Very unconventional, I know, but are we not the masters of our home? I daresay we can do whatever we want.

Phoebe flung her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly, and squeezed. She eased back, cupped his jaw tenderly, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you!”

Before she could lean back, he turned his head so their lips were a mere whisper apart. He had such extraordinary eyes—cobalt with a fleck of sapphire. And in that beautiful stare, there was a faint glimpse of humor in his eyes and arousal so profound she blushed. Despite using every excuse under the sun to ravish her lips so often, he showed the most admirable restraint in not seducing her further.

“I have been here six weeks now,” she said, brushing a curl from his forehead.

He did not object to her tender ministration but leaned even further into her touch. She went frightfully warm inside. Each day they grew closer, but there was still a reserve in his gaze at times, as if he were a watcher of their interactions and not a participant.

It had made her feel odd, and she had been incredibly careful to maintain a facade of propriety, which he had smashed earlier with his request for her to be unrestrained. Now she wanted the same from him. That