Page 113 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville

“Quite sure.” He puffed out his chest. “I’ve caught many a fine trout in that pond.”

“More like troutbait,” Maria told Oliver, who was stretched out on the blanket beside her, reading a letter from Jarret. “I’ve never seen a fish longer than my thumb in that pond.”

“Hmm?” Clearly Oliver hadn’t heard a word.

She pushed the letter down with her finger. “How goes Jarret’s search for a bride?”

“He doesn’t say.” Oliver’s eyes darkened. “But Gran’s ill. She hasn’t been able to leave her house in town for a week. Jarret is worried.”

“Then it’s good we’re returning soon.”

He nodded. “He also says something rather peculiar.”

“Oh?”

“He’s been thinking about the day our parents died, and he’s almost certain that my memory of the events is wrong in one respect.” Oliver stared off across the field. “He claims that Mother did not ride out after Father. That it was the other way around.”

“What does he base that opinion on?”

“He doesn’t say. All he says is that we’ll talk about it further when you and I return.”

She considered that a moment. “Does it matter who went after whom?”

“For me, it does. It means Mother didn’t go tearing off in anger to kill Father. That perhaps I wasn’t as much to blame as I’d thought.”

“You were never as much to blame as you thought,” she told him softly.

A brief smile touched his lips. “That’s whatyousay. But you’re biased.”

She shrugged. “Maybe a little. But I would never have agreed to marry you if I’d thought you capable of real wickedness. I wouldn’t have risked having a child of mine suffer the same torments you and your siblings suffered.”

Oliver went still. “And does this sudden mention of some future child have anything to do with your sneaking out of the house to consult with a physician this morning?”

She gaped at him. “You knew? How did you find out?”

“Believe me, angel, I know whenever you leave my bed.” His eyes gleamed at her. “I feel the loss of it right here.” He struck his heart dramatically.

“Aunt Rose spoke the truth about you,” she grumbled. “Youarea smooth-tongued devil. And apparently you read minds, as well.”

He chuckled. “Your aunt simply cannot keep secrets. But to be honest, it’s not been hard to notice how little interest you show in your breakfast these days, and how often you like to nap. I know the signs of a woman with child. I watched my mother go through them with four children.”

“And here I was hoping to surprise you,” she said with a pout. “I swear you are impossible to surprise.”

“That’s only because you used up all your surprises in the first hour of our meeting.”

“How so?”

“By boldly threatening me with Freddy’s sword. And by agreeing to my insane proposal. Then by showing sympathy for the loss of my parents. Few people ever did that for me.”

As a lump caught in her throat, he pulled her into his arms. “But your greatest surprise came long after, on that day in the inn.” Laying his hand on her still flat belly, his voice grew husky. “You surprised me by loving me. That was the best surprise of all.”