Her Christmas Earl
“Yes.” She glared at him, challenging him to object. “Are you?”
A shuddering breath expanded his chest. Somewhere in their passion, she’d tugged off his neck cloth and his shirt lay open, revealing dark hair over the hard, powerful muscles of his torso.
“I love you,” he said flatly. “I want you to be happy. If this baby makes you happy, then I’m overjoyed.”
“Of course this baby makes me—” She faltered into an astounded silence. Surely there was some mistake. He couldn’t have said what she thought he had. Particularly in such an unlover-like tone. Pregnancy must play with her mind. “What…what did you say?”
“I said I’m overjoyed. When is the child due?” he asked, sounding much more like himself. He hadn’t sounded like himself when she’d heard him say that he loved her.
Still distracted, but unable to gather the courage to pursue the issue, she answered. “June or July, I think.”
“And how are you feeling? Will you be able to travel tomorrow? We can stay here until the baby arrives, if you think it best.”
In spite of the fraught moment, she couldn’t restrain a dry laugh. “Now I know you must be excited about the baby, if you’re offering to extend your time with my family.”
He’d told her he loved her. Had he?
“I can’t bear to lose you.”
That was no surprise. He’d said things like that before. From their earliest days together, she’d been in no doubt that he valued her. Her qualms about trapping him in a marriage he didn’t want hadn’t lasted beyond the night in Salisbury.
She basked in the way his overriding concern for her outweighed his male urge to procreate. Perhaps he might love her after all. Still she shied away from asking him if she’d heard him right. What if she hadn’t? “You won’t lose me. I’m as healthy as a horse. I haven’t even been sick, although I gather I should have been by now.”
“Should we go to London and see a doctor?” He sounded unsure. Again, not like himself. She rather liked seeing her lordly husband in a sweat. “Balcannon only has the village midwife.”
The impressively competent village midwife on his estate had confirmed that Philippa was indeed expecting a child. “Let’s wait and see.”
The blankness receded from his expression. She realized now that his silence had been shock. His eyes brightened and he smiled at her. “What a clever girl you are.”
She sucked in a relieved breath. “Well, I had help.”
“Yes, I take all the credit.” He was definitely back to sounding like the man she lived with day in and day out. Not like the stranger who had told her he loved her.
“Not all the credit.”
“A baby.” His smile widened. She was reassured to see that he appeared remarkably cheerful. She dearly wanted him to look forward to this child with her. “In the summer.”
She started to smile, too. After all, she was excited to start their family. “Yes.”
“A little girl for me to spoil.”
“Or a boy to continue the family name.”
He gave a sudden shout of laughter. “Well, damnation, that’s wonderful news!”
He reached out and seized her, hauling her into his arms for a kiss that combined passion with celebration. It was unlike any kiss he’d ever given her. Beneath the elation lurked something she’d never felt in him before.
Eventually she pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re happy.”
“Of course I’m happy.”
He kissed her again, then stopped. “What’s wrong? You’re not getti
ng into the spirit of things.”
She was such a fool. Against all the odds, they were contented with their life. And now fate granted them the child she’d prayed for. Any reasonable woman would leave it at that. What was the point of crying after the moon? But if it was true that Blair did indeed love her, her joy would be complete. Philippa could stifle the question no longer. “Did…did you say you love me?”
“Of course,” he said lightly.