Read Online A Scandalous Marriage by Cathy Maxwell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cathy Maxwell
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son stiffened at the sight of Devon, but then his gaze slid to Leah on the bed. He cried out her name and started to move for her.
His mother stopped him by grabbing his arm. “What are you doing in my bed, missy? And who are you?” she demanded of Devon.
Leah started to rise, but Devon placed his hand on her shoulder, holding her in place.
“You don’t understand—” Leah protested to him, but he shushed her.
Facing the woman and her son, he announced, “I am the Viscount Huxhold.”
The woman’s blue eyes went wide, and she clasped her leather prayer book to her chest. “Huxhold!”
She was obviously familiar with the name.
Devon couldn’t resist sending Leah a rueful smile. There were advantages to having a shocking reputation. He rarely had to introduce himself twice.
“Please, Devon,” Leah begged. “I must move from Mrs. Pitney’s bed.”
Devon ignored her. “She’s having the baby,” he informed Mrs. Pitney and son.
“Well, she can’t have it there,” Mrs. Pitney replied briskly. “That’s my bed.”
“Mother!”
“Oh, Adam, can’t you see what is plain as the nose on your face? She’s one of Huxhold’s doxies. They say he has bastards from here to Cornwall. He’s come to claim the child. And he can hie her off to another bed as far as I’m concerned!”
Adam jerked at her words as if they’d physically assaulted him. “Is that true?” he said to Devon. “Did you do this to Leah and abandon her?”
A denial was on the tip of Devon’s tongue, but then he looked into the young pup’s eyes and hesitated.
Adam was in love. He would fight Devon for Leah. He was ready to champion her.
There was only one way to dismiss the lad’s adoration. “Yes,” he answered.
“No,” Leah corrected, but Mrs. Pitney drowned her out.
“See?” she said to her son. “I warned you, but you wouldn’t listen. All you could see was her pretty face.”
Adam was in no mood to hear his mother crow—and Devon almost felt sorry for him. The lad had been planted a facer. Love hurt. Especially loving Leah. Devon knew that firsthand.
Leah might have challenged the claim, but another pain took hold of her body. She cried out.
“She must have help,” Devon said. “Mrs. Pitney, do you know about childbirth?”
“Not a thing!”
“What about a midwife?”
“Wait a minute!” she snapped. “That’s my bed. She can’t have the child in my bed. It’ll muss the sheets.”
Her son rounded on her. “What do you expect, Mother? That she have the baby out in the stable?”
“I don’t care. I wish you’d never brought her here, Adam. Then you’d already be married to the miller’s daughter. As it is, your chances may be rained!”
Devon reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his money purse. He tossed it at Mrs. Pitney’s feet, where it landed with a heavy thunk. “There. You can purchase a wagonload of beds with it. Now go fetch the midwife.”
“Well, I never—” she started to say even while she bent to retrieve the purse. She caught her son frowning at her. “I’m not wrong for wanting my bed. She’s just the farm girl.”
Adam frowned in silent disapproval. His mother made an impatient sound, clutching Devon’s purse tightly. “I can see you won’t listen to me. Well, then have it your way. I’ll be over at your aunt Lisbeth’s.
Come fetch me when the brat is born and she is out of my house. I’ll not have her here a day longer than necessary.” She flounced out the door and was gone in a blink.
Adam stood in the middle of the room, staring at the door. Devon doubted if the lad had ever gainsaid his old goat of a mother.
Leah moaned, bringing Devon’s attention back to her. He stepped back into the bedroom and rested his hand on her brow. Cold sweat covered her skin. Her breathing was shallow.
“Is she all right?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know,” Devon answered candidly. “Is there a midwife available?”
“Yes, Old Edith. Leah has talked to
His mother stopped him by grabbing his arm. “What are you doing in my bed, missy? And who are you?” she demanded of Devon.
Leah started to rise, but Devon placed his hand on her shoulder, holding her in place.
“You don’t understand—” Leah protested to him, but he shushed her.
Facing the woman and her son, he announced, “I am the Viscount Huxhold.”
The woman’s blue eyes went wide, and she clasped her leather prayer book to her chest. “Huxhold!”
She was obviously familiar with the name.
Devon couldn’t resist sending Leah a rueful smile. There were advantages to having a shocking reputation. He rarely had to introduce himself twice.
“Please, Devon,” Leah begged. “I must move from Mrs. Pitney’s bed.”
Devon ignored her. “She’s having the baby,” he informed Mrs. Pitney and son.
“Well, she can’t have it there,” Mrs. Pitney replied briskly. “That’s my bed.”
“Mother!”
“Oh, Adam, can’t you see what is plain as the nose on your face? She’s one of Huxhold’s doxies. They say he has bastards from here to Cornwall. He’s come to claim the child. And he can hie her off to another bed as far as I’m concerned!”
Adam jerked at her words as if they’d physically assaulted him. “Is that true?” he said to Devon. “Did you do this to Leah and abandon her?”
A denial was on the tip of Devon’s tongue, but then he looked into the young pup’s eyes and hesitated.
Adam was in love. He would fight Devon for Leah. He was ready to champion her.
There was only one way to dismiss the lad’s adoration. “Yes,” he answered.
“No,” Leah corrected, but Mrs. Pitney drowned her out.
“See?” she said to her son. “I warned you, but you wouldn’t listen. All you could see was her pretty face.”
Adam was in no mood to hear his mother crow—and Devon almost felt sorry for him. The lad had been planted a facer. Love hurt. Especially loving Leah. Devon knew that firsthand.
Leah might have challenged the claim, but another pain took hold of her body. She cried out.
“She must have help,” Devon said. “Mrs. Pitney, do you know about childbirth?”
“Not a thing!”
“What about a midwife?”
“Wait a minute!” she snapped. “That’s my bed. She can’t have the child in my bed. It’ll muss the sheets.”
Her son rounded on her. “What do you expect, Mother? That she have the baby out in the stable?”
“I don’t care. I wish you’d never brought her here, Adam. Then you’d already be married to the miller’s daughter. As it is, your chances may be rained!”
Devon reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his money purse. He tossed it at Mrs. Pitney’s feet, where it landed with a heavy thunk. “There. You can purchase a wagonload of beds with it. Now go fetch the midwife.”
“Well, I never—” she started to say even while she bent to retrieve the purse. She caught her son frowning at her. “I’m not wrong for wanting my bed. She’s just the farm girl.”
Adam frowned in silent disapproval. His mother made an impatient sound, clutching Devon’s purse tightly. “I can see you won’t listen to me. Well, then have it your way. I’ll be over at your aunt Lisbeth’s.
Come fetch me when the brat is born and she is out of my house. I’ll not have her here a day longer than necessary.” She flounced out the door and was gone in a blink.
Adam stood in the middle of the room, staring at the door. Devon doubted if the lad had ever gainsaid his old goat of a mother.
Leah moaned, bringing Devon’s attention back to her. He stepped back into the bedroom and rested his hand on her brow. Cold sweat covered her skin. Her breathing was shallow.
“Is she all right?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know,” Devon answered candidly. “Is there a midwife available?”
“Yes, Old Edith. Leah has talked to
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