Page 34 of On the Ropes of Scandal (With Love in Their Corner #3)

Bedford Square, Mayfair

W ith a yawn, Duncan made his way up the stairs of his townhouse.

He’d gone over to Alexander’s home for a few moments after his last client at the boxing salon had finished, for he’d wanted to meet his new niece, born barely a month ago.

While he’d been there, after praising the baby, he and his brother shared a couple of drinks and talked for a while.

Time got away from him, but now that he was home, he was glad for it.

As he always was.

By the time he reached the suite he shared with Phoebe, he had his cravat off.

In the adjoining dressing room, he stripped down to his breeches before finally coming into the bedchamber where his wife sat in the wide four-poster bed with their nearly two-year-old son sleeping by her side.

Her pregnant belly was hidden by the folds of her satiny nightdress, but that babe would be their third, due by the end of August.

“Am I disturbing you?” he asked in a whisper, as he came fully into the room.

“Of course not.” She set the book she’d been reading aside then patted the mattress next to her. “How is your brother?”

He settled where she indicated. “He is still such a proud father. Exhausted, of course, but proud. Lydia is doing as well as can be expected. Since her labor was difficult, she hasn’t been up and about much in the last month, but I expect she’ll rebound soon enough.”

Phoebe nodded. “She’s a Stapelton, so she’ll rally.” She moved into a more comfortable position. “I have four months before this one will make an appearance, but I’ll try to call on her in the next few days.”

“She’ll welcome that. As will Alexander.

Especially since Mama is far too busy and distracted with preparing for her second marriage to be a doting grandmother.

” If there was a touch of bitterness in his voice, he couldn’t help it.

She’d nagged for years about having grandchildren, and now she was pursuing her own interests.

“Don’t be cross, Duncan. Love is love, and your mother deserves happiness again in her life. Once she is wed, she’ll pour most of her attention into the children again.”

“I know you’re right, but it is still a bit annoying.

” But he couldn’t fault his mother. She’d been lonely since his father had died a handful of years ago, and now that her sons were married and not needing her as much, she probably considered herself with free time.

Then he peered around her at his son, Edward George, named after both of their fathers.

The boy’s softly curling brown-blonde hair was as soft as cornsilk.

Dark lashes lay against his rounded cheeks as he slept next to his mother.

His chin, mannerisms and reckless attitude had all come from Duncan, but his blue eyes were all Phoebe’s.

“Every day that goes by, I’m continually thankful for what we have in this life.

” His heart was full, for he adored both of his children equally.

“I am as well.” She laid a hand on her belly. “Edward is so curious. I think you’ll need to take him to the boxing salon soon to familiarize him early with that part of your life, for it will be his future and your legacy.”

That was undoubtedly true, for he had worked in the boxing salon he owned with his brothers for nearly four years.

While Alexander managed it and ran it quite seamlessly, it was Duncan’s responsibility to keep investors happy and coin flowing into the salon…

while finding backing for the exceptional boxers they launched into the bare-knuckle arena.

It was rapidly becoming one of the most popular sports in England, and unless he missed his guess, it would soon cease to be illegal.

Frankly, he couldn’t wait for that day. And with each sponsorship he sold and with every new investor, he took a cut of that coin, which made for a very lucrative income each year.

He and his brothers also conducted private boxing lessons in addition to teaching the general public a few points while in the salon.

“Perhaps, but I rather think it’s safer to bring him to Lewis’ home since they have the private salon, and his cousins would be happy to see him.” He met her gaze and grinned. “I should probably check in on Abigail before exhaustion fully claims me. Shall I take our son up to the nursery as well?”

“Yes, please. He was a bit petulant when the nursery maid put him down, so I had him brought here hoping to calm him, and since I was far too tired to argue with him, I thought this was the best place for him.”

Over the years, Phoebe had come into her own within the beau monde .

In fact, she used the skills she’d learned in Surrey to open two small bakeries around London, and with his investments, they were running flawlessly.

So much so that she’d encouraged her Aunt Bess to move to Town to help oversee them.

Phoebe popped in when she could around the children’s schedules, but with the new babe coming soon, she would need to hire more workers.

Especially since her jam tarts had made a bit of a sensation among Mayfair residents.

“You need to rest more. No sense in putting yourself or the babe at risk.” Duncan winked.

“I’ll return shortly.” After he gently gathered his son into his arms, he carried him along the corridor to the suite they’d made by putting two guest rooms together.

There was one left, and if they continued to have children, they would need to move to a larger home.

There are worse problems to have, I suppose.

Inside the nursery suite, he laid Edward into his crib with a nod to the nursery maid. The nanny, he assumed, had already retired to her tiny room in the attic space. She and the maid often switched off monitoring the children.

“Is all well?” he asked of her.

“It is, my lord,” the young woman said with a nod. She looked up from the pamphlet she’d been reading. “Abigail went to sleep without a fight tonight. Perhaps she is moving out of her colicky stage.”

“One can only hope.” As he quietly moved across the large space to the other crib, he peered down into it and smiled to see the little angel that was his daughter.

As of yet, she didn’t have much hair to speak of, and instead had very fine, very pale blonde hairs all over her head.

Born in the middle of July last year, she was almost a year old, and though she was plump and petite like her mama, she had quite the temper and didn’t like having her schedule upset.

In that, she was a bit like her uncle Lewis.

Which made Duncan laugh more often than not.

She would be a force to contend with when she grew older.

Unlike her brother, she had brown eyes, but they were the most soulful pools he had ever seen.

“Enjoy your journey through dreamland, princess,” he whispered to his daughter, but didn’t dare to touch her cheek for fear she’d wake.

Then, with a nod to the nursery maid, he returned to his bedchamber and Phoebe.

With a grin, he slipped beneath the bedclothes beside his wife.

“They are both asleep and both far too adorable.”

“If nothing else, you and I make beautiful children.” She leaned over and blew out the candle on her bedside table. “I can’t wait to meet the newest.”

“Me either.” For long moments, Duncan simply held her in the darkness as he listened to the sounds of the house as it settled in for the night ahead. “Once the babe is born, will you consider our family complete?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She laid a hand on his naked chest, and just as every time she touched him, his muscles clenched, and desire built. “I might like one more before we should probably take measures to prevent other pregnancies.”

He nodded. “Four sounds like a lovely number.” Then he slid down the bed, put his hands on either side of her belly, and then kissed the bump through the thin fabric of her night dress.

“This is your papa, baby. Your mama and I can’t wait to meet you.

” The fact Phoebe had been delivered of two children already and was growing a third in her belly never failed to astound him.

“Ooh!” Phoebe chuckled softly. “I think the child likes the sound of your voice. It’s moving about in there.”

“How amazing.” When he came up the bed, he once more took her into his arms and encouraged her backward. “Each year that goes by, I fall deeper into love with you.”

One of her hands went around his nape. “I feel the same about you, and I knew you would prove a wonderful father. Just as you have been an even better husband.”

“I try every day to be a better man than I was before.” Who would have thought that nearly three years before, he would have become a married man who had no more interest in chasing skirts or indulging in the vices he used to hold so dear.

Of course, the reason he’d done that to begin with was to make his family pay attention to him and to try to relieve ennui.

There was no need for any of that, for he was quite fulfilled and content in the life he lived now.

“I’m so proud of you.” With gentle pressure from her fingers, his wife encouraged him down for a kiss.

All too soon, he was lost, as he usually was when things turned amorous with her. “I am not the only one doing good things.”

“Mmm, but I don’t want to talk about me. Or anything, really. I only want to feel you against me, moving inside me.”

It was a wonder she hadn’t killed him with her enthusiasm, but it was yet another thing that he adored about her, and one of the reasons they were such an exceptional fit together. “As if I could deny you anything,” he whispered, as he undid the ties that held her wrapper together.

Life was essentially a mystery where it was lovely then awful then wonderful again, before starting the cycle all over. The key to surviving the upheaval and uncertainty was to just hang on tightly and never doubt the love and support one found along the way.

The End