Miss Winters Proposes (11 page)

But then, neither was hound breeding.

“Yes, Henry and Philip. The two were dears, older than us by a decade. But illness ravaged them—a fever Philip brought home from one of his expeditions to the West Indies. Benjamin gained possession of the title quite unexpectedly. A third son. Who would have expected?”

“Who, indeed?” Benjamin asked, his voice strained. “I really ought to see Artemis.” He stared at Juliet, his sorrow-filled and conflicted eyes urging her departure…and demanding acquiescence.

If not her understanding. Clearly, something was amiss. Was it fear of an attachment, a friendship between her and his kin? One he did not want to develop due to Juliet’s departure and the fragility of Eleanor’s condition? Was his coldness nothing more than a tactic to prevent heartache upon her departure? Juliet stood and made her way to Benjamin’s side, settling her hand on his arm.

And her heart in his hand.

…

Few men enjoyed suffering, and Benjamin was no exception. He did not like the sharp pain pricking at his eyes, threatening, God forbid, watershed, at the mention of his lost siblings, his parents, or even Amelia. Nor did he fancy the way his breath lodged in his throat whenever he was reminded that, with their deaths, he had been bequeathed roles he did not want to fill, burdened with responsibilities he was not prepared to assume.

He was a third son. A recluse who invariably preferred mammals with four legs rather than two. He did not wish to be a viscount responsible for both his family seat and the people living on its land.

And yet he had assumed the roles forced upon him by fate. Duty compelled him. And so did Eleanor.

No one felt him more deserving of the title than his sister, his twin by birth if not personality. Her amiable and effervescent temperament had made her elated by his good fortune, insisting that with death came new life, and the viscountcy offered him opportunities he had otherwise been denied.

She had supported, encouraged, and inspired him with her enthusiasm and her insistence he would make an excellent example of a gentleman.

But he had never been prepared for such a role. His life was to be one of humility, of a clergyman in a distant parish with a few hounds and even fewer members. Never had he thought he would take on the running of Darlington and all the responsibility it entailed.

Eleanor’s presence was a reminder of loss. And of failure. He could never be the man she believed him to be. And he hated himself for it.

Due to the distraction and enigma that was Juliet, he had almost forgotten he was the lone son, the remaining Colwyn heir to whom all the expectations had fallen…had almost believed himself capable of feeling, of healing beyond the pain of his past with his new wife.

A wife who, with the delivery of Artemis’s litter, would be leaving him in a short time.

But perhaps, with some coaxing, he might convince her otherwise. That was, of course, if he dared to do what he once believed impossible, and trust her. Trust she would not let him down like everyone else. Like he had Eleanor.

He had to get those puppies. Had to make certain Artemis delivered well and healthy…

But he wasn’t entirely certain of Juliet’s abilities. While she appeared confident, he had playfully snatched a primer on the basics of canine breeding from her hands, had born witness to her admission to not being fully competent in the study of whelping. He did not know if Juliet was up to the task before her.

A task that would ease both the burden of having fallen short of the man his sister believed him to be, and those wrought by her lack of funds. Artemis’s litter would change everything, including his future. One that included his wife. Here. At Darlington.

“Benjamin.” Juliet wrapped her arms around him as soon as he entered into the library next door. “I had no idea you suffered such great loss.”

His body slackened in her embrace, reveling in her gentle touch. “It is not something I like to recall.”

“I can’t imagine you would.”

“Then let us think of it no longer. Shall we find the hounds and see how they are faring?”

Juliet’s mouth spread wide with a smile. “I believe it is time for them to be fed.”

He grabbed her hand and led her toward what appeared at first glance, to be a bookshelf. But upon closer inspection, and with a gentle push in the upper left corner, revealed itself to be a secret entrance to a flight of stairs.

“These lead to the kitchens, where the hounds should be awaiting their meal.”

Juliet stared down the darkened stairwell. “How innovative.”

“Yes, and convenient, too. Especially when one works up an appetite whilst reading the
The Monk
.” He gave her a wink. “Come, Udolpho. Shall we see what mysteries await? Perhaps we will hear the rattling of chains or see the misty shroud of a phantom on our way to visit the hounds.”

She giggled, the light and airy sound further easing the wounds of his past.

“I do believe you are mocking me, my lord,” she said, following him down the narrow stone steps.

“Never.” He squeezed her hand, reveling in the way it fit perfectly in his. “Simply stating the possibilities. Who knows what mysteries await us? Or what secrets of the macabre shall be revealed?”

Juliet’s grip tightened around his fingers. “I am much less interested in the macabre and much more curious to hear the soothing words of a hymn sung by a secretive viscount.”

Benjamin chuckled. “My sister grossly overestimates my talents. You should be thanking me for sparing your ear.” He had not sung a word since Amelia’s death. Had not even hummed a note. There had not seemed a point to engage in such a jovial pastime. At least not until now…

“Nonsense. You are obviously afflicted with false modesty. Besides, what else should bring comfort in a medieval stairwell but a hymn offering praise?”

“I can think of one or two things.” Like her soft pink lips. And sweet cinnamon-scented curls. “But I am well acquainted with your determined spirit. And I know you will persist in ferreting out my so called talent until you can dispute my sister’s accolades.”

“Likely confirm rather than dispute, but yes, I am quite determined.” Her voice echoed off the stone walls.

He smiled in the dark as he led her around a corner and toward the door that awaited them at the bottom. “Then I shall sing you a hymn.”

“Excellent. I find they bring me comfort in times of despair.”

“And following a secretive viscount down a darkened stairwell is despairing?”

Juliet laughed. “It is quickly leaning that way, yes.”

“Then allow me to convince you otherwise…as much as I am able in present circumstance.”

With a deep breath, he sang the words to a hymn that had once come so easily to him…the familiar tune rolling off his tongue, his voice filling the narrow passageway. Benjamin held the last note of the first verse as he lifted the latch on the door, pulling Juliet into the bustle of the kitchen.

She peered up at him, her sapphire eyes transfixed. “That was…”

Benjamin dipped his head and covered her lips. Taking the supple flesh of her lower lip between his teeth, he drank of the woman he could not deny and whom he very much wanted to impress.

Her eyes bright, her mouth stretching wide with a grin, she pulled away. “You only succeed in delaying my review, not preventing its eventual delivery.”

“Then perhaps the arrival of the hounds will distract you from contriving your critique.”

Artemis bounded to his side, toppling over an empty bowl with her tail. Benjamin knelt down, rubbing her favorite spot under her chin, her pink tongue lapping at his face.

“No, but the arrival of your sister’s children might. I would not want them to hear me gush like a school girl as I delivered my praise.”

Benjamin gave his wife a smile and stood to lift up the towheaded boy of four who had raced toward him. “No, we wouldn’t want them to hear any sort of complimentary remarks or notes of admiration in regards to their cantankerous uncle, now would we?”

His sister’s youngest squealed with laughter in his arms.

He ruffled the boy’s light hair and directed him toward Juliet. “This, my dear Lady Colwyn, is Master James Meadowcroft.

Juliet gave an elegant curtsy. “How do you do, sir?”

James scrunched his nose, seemingly unimpressed with his new aunt and grabbed Benjamin’s nose. “Cook let us play with the hounds. Did you know Artemis is going to have puppies?”

“I did.” Benjamin set down the tot and rubbed Artemis’s back. “What do you think we should name them?”

His nephew placed a finger under his chin in deep contemplation. “I don’t know.”

“How about Apollo?” asked the boy’s elder sister. “And Athena? Why not continue with the Greek Parthenon of gods?”

“An excellent idea, Louisa.” Benjamin beamed down at his niece.

“When you do think the puppies will arrive?” Louisa asked.

Juliet placed her hands on Artemis’s swollen sides. “As soon as nature determines she is ready. Which, if my guess is correct, should not be long.”

Which meant Juliet’s departure would follow and his solitude would be restored. His life would return to normal, and he would resume the role of reclusive viscount.

A role that had suddenly lost its allure.

Chapter Twelve

Juliet had always favored Yuletide and the festivities that accompanied the season. The gathering of family, the celebration of the Lord’s coming, and the spirit of peace and giving always brought a smile to her face and an overwhelming wave of gratitude to her heart.

Especially this Christmas, when her plate was filled to overflowing with a multitude of blessings, such as her husband, her marriage, and her new home. Juliet trailed her hands over the balustrade in the elaborate foyer on her way toward her room to ready for bed. She smiled at the signs of the season the staff had set out to celebrate the holiday. Boughs of evergreen covered every mantle, the lush green needles filling the house with their pungent fragrance. Even a sprig of mistletoe hung in front of the entrance, the tiny white berries eliciting a passion-filled kiss from her handsome husband each time they passed beneath the festive greenery.

She had waltzed into a fairy tale. And while she bore no crown or jewel-encrusted tiara, she was a princess, with her knight in shining armor at her side. For the entire week Benjamin had doted upon her, his feelings duly expressed in both the bedroom and out—for no one’s eyes but their own.

Away from Frederick’s judging and leering glares, Juliet embraced a self-confidence in her appearance she had only ever dreamed of possessing. Benjamin treated her as a priceless gem, not a tarnished piece of silver that might shine with a bit of polish.

The hounds also appeared enraptured with the festive and merry atmosphere of Darlington. Cleo, Horatio, indeed, the entire kennel had endeared themselves to Darlington’s staff, and even more so to Mr. Meadowcroft.

His patience, his firm guidance in his training, and his affection for her kennel lent the man a special air and Juliet couldn’t help but find herself in his constant companionship. His eager interest in her breeding methods, in her selection of champions, had him asking a thousand questions she was more than eager to answer.

Much to her husband’s chagrin.

“Juliet,” Benjamin whispered. He came up beside her and pulled her behind a Flemish tapestry, into a hidden enclave off the main corridor. “If you spend another moment answering Meadowcroft’s incessant barrage of questions, I shall have to challenge him to a duel over your attentions.”

Juliet could not fight the pull of her lips as they lifted into a smile. “Careful, my lord. Or I might begin to think you are jealous of my time.”

He let out a throaty laugh. “Of course I’m jealous. I have to steal you away to have a moment without him trailing after you like a compass needle set on north. He is bewitched and infatuated with your teachings. Meadowcroft speaks of little else, his conversations focused entirely on the superiority of your hounds and which question he would like to ask you next. I admit to being rather possessive of your time, my lady. I find I do not like to share.”

Her heart fluttered at her husband’s words. He wanted to be with her.

She had never had someone jealous of her time. Well, perhaps her father when she became overly involved with the hounds. He, however, had done remarkably well with her recent departure, his smiles throughout their Christmas dinner relieving any lingering fears she had concerning his health and her transition into married life.

But that a man outside of her relations should be desirous of her time, of her attentions—it made her heart swell and her head spin.

Maybe this meant he would not expect her to leave once he had his puppies, that he believed they had a chance, as a couple, to have a future together. He seemed happy enough she had developed a relationship not only with Meadowcroft, but with his sister and his niece and nephew…that meant something, did it not?

“Nonsense, he is simply curious.” She sent a playful shove into his chest. “He has aspirations of being a breeder. He simply wishes to be educated by someone knowledgeable in the field.”

“Yes, well, thank heavens for your father’s arrival, or I would never be able to do this without Mr. Meadowcroft bearing witness.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, his frustrations and need to capitalize on their seclusion evident in his affection, of the need and desire he poured into his kiss. She was unable to deny his pursuit. Which was fortunate, as she had no inclination of refusing him.

A small cough came from the other side of the tapestry. With a growl, he tore his lips from hers.

“Excuse me, my lord…my lady, but it is Artemis. Mr. Meadowcroft believes she may be starting…the process.”

Juliet straightened, her gaze locking with her husband’s.

The time had come. Artemis’s pups would be delivered.

And Juliet would be expected to depart for Evenrood shortly after.

The word that had once brought her a sense of peace and comfort suddenly made her sick to her stomach.

Evenrood
.

She couldn’t depart for such a distant locale. Not now. Not when she had grown accustomed to Benjamin’s whispered words of affection. His smoldering kisses. And his gentle embraces.

Evenrood was made of cold stone and mortar, a veritable castle on a remote moor in distant Northumberland. And the very opposite of the warmth that radiated from Darlington’s halls, that her husband evoked with his rich laughter and kind words.

She could not leave Darlington. Not now. Not ever. This was her home. Her stronghold, where for the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged.

Oh, her father had loved and doted upon her, and she had been quite happy as the mistress of Hollington. But her future there was not secured, and one day Frederick would inherit, and she would be at the mercy of his wife and their charity.

Here, with Benjamin, as his viscountess, her future was one she could not have ever imagined—filled with security, affection…love.

She peered into the eyes still holding her gaze. Big, expressive, mahogany-colored eyes she could no more forget than she could leave. Her heart had been stolen, taken by the man who stood anxious and tense, awaiting her direction.

She had fallen in love.

And now that Artemis’s time had arrived, Juliet found she wished the beast carried the same length of time as a human, if only to further delay the inevitable separation she no longer wished to endure.

Nine more months would be more desirable…and closer to the time of her possible delivery.

Juliet tore her eyes from her husband’s to stare at her flattened middle section. She could very well be with child.

Which was another reason, as good as any, to delay her departure to Evenrood. And to give voice to her suspicions. Perhaps if Benjamin knew she was possibly carrying the next viscount, he would not wish for her to go…

Not that he had made any comments suggesting her departure. All conversation on the topic was avoided, ignored as though it was not the eventuality both expected.

Or wanted.

The footman cleared his throat. “How shall I proceed, my lady?”

Juliet pulled herself away from Benjamin’s embrace, sweeping aside the heavy tapestry. “Where is she?”

“In the room beside the viscount, as you suggested. Her pawing and whines alerted the staff to her distress.”

“She’s whining?” Benjamin asked. His face paled.

Juliet placed a comforting hand on his arm. “It is not atypical for the dam to feel discomfort. She will stop when the process is over and the pups have arrived.”

She headed toward the footman. “Run ahead and alert the kitchen staff. We’ll need plenty of water and fresh clean linens for the whelping.”

“Yes, my lady.” He gave a shallow bow and departed, his quick footfalls echoing in the empty hall.

“How can I assist?” Benjamin asked, keeping a quick pace beside her. Juliet took the now familiar route to her husband’s room as fast as her two feet would allow. Who knew how long Artemis had already labored, or how quickly the pups would follow? Heaven forbid if any complications should arise…

Juliet turned a corner, and then another, lifting her skirts and near racing up the stairs. “I need you to keep Artemis calm. This is her first whelping, and I am unsure of how well she will work through her discomfort…” Juliet paused. “Then again, it might be best if you left things to themselves. Your interference might bring agitation. Artemis is in a great deal of pain. She is not herself. She may growl and nip at your fingers as the contractions progress her delivery.”

Benjamin nodded. “Understood.”

Juliet rushed down the hall to the set of heavy oak doors sealing off her husband’s room from the rest of the house. Making her way past his massive bed, she opened the connecting doors that led to the adjoining room, a quiet, warm room free of other dogs and set aside for the purpose of Artemis’s delivery.

A large fire roared in the hearth, keeping the room at a perfect and toasty temperature for the impending arrival of whimpering pups.

“How far along is she?” Juliet asked Mr. Meadowcroft, who stood watching Artemis paw and scratch at the collection of blankets in the corner.

“The staff informed me she has been acting this way for the past six or so hours. She’s been restless, pacing the room, and pawing at her nest.”

“Why did no one alert me?”

Weston, Benjamin’s butler, came forward. “We did not wish to interrupt your holiday meal, my lady. Artemis did not appear to be in any danger. When Mr. Meadowcroft came in to see her, we informed him of her state. He then bade us to alert you to her condition.”

Which was all well and plausible. Little more could have been done for the dam. Juliet let out a little sigh. A long night awaited them, especially Artemis.

“Would you like me to send for Lord Roughton, my lady?”

Juliet shook her head. While her father was in remarkable health, there was no need to overtax his body with any unnecessary stress or burden. Nor was there any need to interrupt his Yuletide revelry. “No. Artemis is in good health, and I am more than competent in my area of expertise.”

“Yes, of course, my lady.”

“Is she all right?” Benjamin asked, coming to stand by her side.

“Of course.” Juliet squeezed his arm. “She is only in the beginning phase. It is likely the first pup will not arrive for a few more hours. For now, there is no sense in denying yourself rest. I will wake you when she begins to whelp. Until then, I shall sit here and wait.”

“I should like to join you, Lady Colwyn.” Mr. Meadowcroft took off his gloves and set them on the fireplace mantle. “You have taught me much this week, and I would like to apply my newfound knowledge. That is, if you don’t mind?”

“Not in the slightest,” Juliet said. She gave the man a smile. “I would be much obliged to have another set of hands.”

Benjamin glanced between her and Meadowcroft. “I don’t find I am tired.”

“Indeed?” asked Juliet, her smile deepening. “Well then, please join us as we have our patience tested.”

“What should we be looking for?” Benjamin pulled a wooden chair away from the wall.

Juliet approached Artemis and ran a hand over her swollen sides. “A contraction of the abdominal area.”

Artemis whined and vomited, the contents of her stomach landing on Juliet’s slipper.

Benjamin sprang from his chair and snatched up one of the towels recently deposited by the staff. “Is this…expected?” He wiped the refuse from her feet.

“It is not ideal, but neither is it abnormal. Likely Artemis is nervous.”

Benjamin set aside the towel and poured clean water over his hands. “As am I. I feel so helpless. I do not know what I would do if any harm befell her or the pups. She is—”

“In good hands, I promise. The whelping process is mostly instinct. She will contract and deliver the pups whom we need to keep warm and well fed. I highly doubt any troubles will arise, but should they, both Mr. Meadowcroft and I are here to assist, and my father is only downstairs.” If he wasn’t already too deep in his cups.

Benjamin knelt on the floor, rubbing Artemis behind her ears. The first contraction took hold of the dam, her lithe body straining against the discomfort, her muscles shaking beneath her coat.

Benjamin stood, his eyes wide, his face pale. “I-I-I-” he stuttered, glancing down at the contorted Artemis. “I have not harmed her, have I?”

“No.” Juliet placed an assuring hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

“It looks like things are progressing faster than we expected,” said Mr. Meadowcroft. He grabbed a linen and spread it over his hands.

Juliet stepped back, dipping her hands into a bowl of water, cleaning herself, and giving the dam space to proceed with the delivery of her first pup. “Mr. Meadowcroft, a cloth, if you please.”

Mr. Meadowcroft placed the clean linen into her hands as the first pup made its appearance.

Artemis began licking the tiny offspring, clearing away the remnants of birth and stimulating the pup to breathe. With a tiny cry, the pup uttered its first sound.

Benjamin’s eyes widened farther. “Is that…?”

“The first of your litter, yes,” Juliet said with a smile. “Artemis is officially a dam. And one who is steadily progressing.”

Juliet kneelt down and scooped up the spotted pup, wrapping it in a dry cloth to keep it warm.

“Will it need to be fed?” Benjamin asked, his voice filled with wonder.

“Yes, but not while Artemis still labors.” Juliet massaged the back of the pup, instilling warmth into its tiny body. “With this being her first time as a mother, I do not want to risk her stepping on the pups or damaging them as she readies for the next delivery.”

“Which is now, Lady Colwyn.” Mr. Meadowcroft handed her another cloth. Juliet set the first pup in a closed off corner near the fire and made her way toward Artemis.

Artemis strained through another pup, once again licking it free of the membranes in an attempt to stimulate its small lungs. Lungs that did not respond.

She scooped up the limp body, rubbing its tiny back and doing her best to remain calm. Blood thundered loud in her ears. She was fully aware of the importance of these pups, the attachment her husband held for them, despite his silence in verbalizing the claim. He had a placement for these pups. And if there were no pups to place…