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Back Where The Story Starts Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Grace sat in the orangery trying to summon up the energy to move. She had estate business that she ought to be dealing with, but everything felt like such an effort these days that it was hard to muster up the enthusiasm. Just five more minutes, she thought. Perhaps she would make her weary way to the office when Marguerite came to take away her tea tray.

Grace rested her hand on her bump and felt a hard angular shape, an elbow maybe, or a heel, pushing out against the wall of her stomach. She pressed the knobble gently and the baby kicked back against her hand impatiently as if she had disturbed it at a crucial moment. Soon they would be three and she would have an heir to the barony that she had inherited from her father. It was very exciting, but if she let her mind dwell on the shadowy details of the impending childbirth for too long her excitement morphed very quickly into gut-wrenching anxiety. It was best to keep busy, if only she could find the verve.

The double doors into the orangery creaked open and in strolled Charles. Her husband, tall and broad with chestnut hair brushed back from his face and tawny eyes, was the most handsome man Grace had ever known and, whilst she knew it was shallow of her to think so, she just could not help it. When they attended social functions together she loved the way he could command a room, turning heads as he went, and she felt proud when after charming all the right people, he always settled back at her side.

Charles was dressed for work in his satin-trimmed dinner jacket and a crisp white dress shirt, the bow tie still dangling untied around his neck.

‘Ah, there you are, darling,’ he said as he approached. ‘I’ve been hunting for you all over.’

He was at her side now and he reached down and gently pressed the flat of his hand against the swell that was their baby.

‘Hello, Junior,’ he said in a squeaky voice that made Grace giggle. ‘This is your father speaking. Are you okay in there? Good. Well, I’ll see you very soon.’ Then he turned his attention back to Grace. ‘You couldn’t help me with this tie, could you?’ he asked with a lopsided grin.

Charles was perfectly capable of tying his own bow tie, but Grace liked that he still asked her to do it for him. It was becoming increasingly difficult, though, as her bump forced them to stand further and further apart.