She looked up at him, surprise on her face. “You cannot imagine that I would miss the game,” she said. “It might well be my last. The baby shall be here too soon.”
“Not soon enough,” he said. “I never allowed myself to wish for children; there were too many ways I could ruin their lives.”
“Once he is here, you will wish him gone again,” she teased, turning back to the casino floor. “He shall scream and squawk.”
“Once she is here, I will wish her near me all the time,” he vowed. “Alongside her mother and her sister.”
She smiled. “Your passel of adoring admirers.”
“I can think of worse things,” he said, wrapping her in his arms and letting her lean into him. His hand slid down her stomach to her thigh, fingers gathering her skirts, pulling them up until she was bare to the knee.
“I have always adored you in trousers, love, but skirts must be the best thing about your pregnancy.” His fingers grazed the skin of her thigh, and she parted for him, letting his touch creep higher until he reached the place where she was suddenly ready for him.
“We cannot.” She sighed, leaning into him, letting him hold her safe. “They are coming.”
He sighed his disappointment. “You could be coming as well, you know.”
She laughed as the door to the suite opened again, and he dropped her skirts, pressing a hot kiss to the side of her neck. Taking her earlobe between his teeth, he promised her, “Tonight.”
She turned to face her partners, a blush high on her cheeks.
Bourne seated his wife at the card table, before raising a knowing brow in Georgiana’s direction. As he headed to the sideboard to pour himself a scotch, he said, “Good evening, Mrs. West.”
She warmed at the name just as she always did – she could have kept the “Lady” into which she was born. It was her due as the daughter of a duke, but she did not want it. Every time someone referred to her as Mrs. West, she was reminded of the man she married. Of the life they had made together – three, soon to become four.
Georgiana and Duncan West ruled London’s ballrooms with their combined power – the newspaper magnate and his glittering, clever bride. Still a scandal, but one worth having at a dinner table – and the aristocracy did enjoy that.
And when they were not dining at tables across Britain, she continued to run the club as Chase. Anna, on the other hand, had taken her leave soon after Duncan and Georgiana were married, after a particularly dangerous evening that ended in a surgeon having to be called after Duncan attacked a member who was altogether too friendly with Anna.
It was best, because the two of them struggled to keep their hands from each other, and it would have been only a matter of time before someone connected the spots between West’s two loves.
Pippa and Cross took their own seats at the table, Cross extracting his deck of cards and setting them in front of him as Pippa craned around to see Georgiana. She blinked. “You grow bigger by the minute,” she said.
“Pippa!” Lady Bourne said. “You are gorgeous, Georgiana.”
“I did not say she was not gorgeous,” Pippa said to her sister before returning her attention to Georgiana. “I simply said you were growing. I think it might be twins.”
“What do you know about twins?” The Duchess of Lamont entered, trailed by Temple, who was discussing a file with Asriel.
“I’ve delivered several sets of multiples,” Pippa asserted.
“Really?” Duncan asked, pulling out a chair and helping Georgiana into it. “That is good to know, in case we require your assistance.”
“You did not ask her if they were human multiples,” Cross said.
“I’ve done it with dogs many times,” Pippa defended herself. “And I’ve had two human children, you might recall, husband.”
“Yes, but not twins. And thank God for that.”
“Agreed,” said Bourne, now father to three. “Twins is just bad luck.”
Duncan was turning pale. “Can we stop discussing twins?”
“It won’t be twins,” Temple said, coming around the table to hand the file he’d been looking at to Georgiana.
“It might be,” she teased. “Pippa says I’m enormous.”
“I certainly didn’t say enormous!”
Georgiana opened the file and considered its contents. She looked up at Temple, “Poor girl,” she said, “Let her out of the box.”
“Who?” Duncan asked.
“Lady Mary Ashehollow.”
There was a collective sound of understanding around the table, but Duncan was the only one to comment. “You’ve decided to end your revenge play?”
“She made me angry.”
He raised a brow. “She is a child.”
“She is in her third season, so she’s not quite that. But yes,” Georgiana said. “And if it is any consolation, she’s going into the betting book as one of the prime ladies of the season. Will that do, husband?”
“Quite well.” He leaned over to give her a long, lingering kiss.
Cross spoke up. “As we are on the subject of the betting book, I believe you owe me one hundred pounds, Chase.”
“For what?” Duncan asked, all curiosity.
“For taking a foolish bet a year ago,” Cross said.
“Cross thought you and Chase would marry,” Temple explained. “Chase…”