Pregnancy Proposals: The Duke's Baby

He’d sounded like he’d really meant it. What an incredible man …

After putting the magazine back on the table, her gaze traveled to the wall paintings. Guinevere seemed exactly the same as before. But this time when she studied Lancelot, it was Lance Malbois’s face and body she saw everywhere she looked. The way his eyes adored the queen filled Andrea with a strange envy.

For the first time she found herself curious about Lance’s stepsister. Did she elicit that same kind of worship from him?

The Galerie Bouffard in Rennes stayed open until nine-thirty on Thursday nights. Lance made his way through the crowded store from the book section to the camera department.

After explaining what he needed to the employee, the man showed him several upgrades of the camera Andrea had been using. It didn’t take Lance long to choose something state-of-the-art to replace the one his horse had smashed to pieces.

He included a pack of film with his purchase, then asked for directions to the infant department. He’d never shopped for baby clothes in his life, but learning Andrea was expecting made him want to do something to help her celebrate. Since he didn’t know if she was carrying a boy or girl, he decided to stick with white and yellow, both safe colors, the assistant had assured him.

By the time the young female employee had shown him everything, he left the store with half a dozen little outfits and two baby blankets in those colors, a baby book and a Fifi the poodle-in-the-box that played a French tune, all gift wrapped. Among the ribbons the clerk tied three rattles he’d picked out.

As she handed him the bag of packages, she winked at him. “Your new baby’s lucky to have a father like you.”

She’d made a wrong assumption, but he liked the sound of it. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”

“Don’t be a stranger now. Babies grow.”

They did indeed. Lance found himself looking forward to watching Andrea blossom. During that moment in the lake when he’d helped her to the surface, he’d felt a quickening as the rich contours of her body pressed against him. Her imprint still lingered, causing him to think thoughts he hadn’t entertained for a long time.

“Merci, mademoiselle.”

After emerging from the ascenseur, he made his way to the main doors of the store.

“Eh bien, if it isn’t Lance Malbois, you handsome devil. Geoff didn’t tell anyone you were home on leave.”

He looked back over his shoulder to discover Helene Dupuis, the wife of his father’s best friend. She was a good person, but a gossip. Lance had hoped to keep his homecoming a secret for a while, but bumping into her had dashed that idea.

“Bonsoir, Helene. Comment ça va?”

“I’m very well, and I have to tell you I’m thrilled to see you are, too. Geoff worries about you. It’s no wonder he’s been so sick even Yves and I have been barred from dropping in,” she chided.

Henri knew what he was doing. Though she meant well, a visit from Helene would have been too exhausting. “He’s getting better now. By next week he’ll want to see both of you.”

“Yves will be delighted to hear it. How long can we expect you to remain this time?”

Lance decided to tell the truth since it would come out anyway. “I’ve retired from the service.”

“You’re home for good?”

“Oui.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh—I must give a party!”

He shook his head. “That’s very nice of you, but no parties. I have too much work ahead. Now if you’ll excuse me. Papa’s waiting.”

“But of course. You go to him, and we’ll see you soon.”

“À bientôt, Helene.”

“I know someone else who’s going to be ecstatic at the news you’re home,” she called after him. But he pretended not to hear as he strode around the corner to his car. Corinne was like all unpleasant things one had to deal with on occasion.

As he was putting his packages on the passenger seat, the streetlight reflected in one of the baby rattles. It drew his thoughts back to Andrea who might or might not be asleep when he returned. He hoped she was still awake since he was eager to see her reaction when she opened her presents.

He couldn’t get back to the château soon enough, and raced up the stairs to the third floor two at a time.

When the housekeeper came in at eight to take away the dinner tray, she brought a small, battery operated radio for Andrea.

“Lance said you were tired. Since this room hasn’t been wired for television, he thought you might like to listen to some music from his transistor,” she explained before setting it on the bedside table.

Lance thought of everything. Had he told the staff she was pregnant? If so, Brigitte was being discreet. She was also amazing. Andrea would give anything to speak French the way the older woman spoke English.

“That was very thoughtful of both of you. By the way, how is Geoff tonight?”

“Doing better than yesterday.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.”

“If you need me, call me on four.”

“I will. Merci.“ It was one of the basic words Andrea had picked up so far.

After a few minutes of playing around with the radio, she found a music station and lay back against the pillow to listen. It was fun to hear songs sung in French, even if she didn’t understand the words.

While she studied the paintings on the walls, she smiled to herself, remembering Lance’s tenderness at the doctor’s.

Deep in thought over the revelations of this day, she lost track of time. When she heard a knock on the door, she was surprised to see that her watch said nine forty-five. The idea that it might be Lance on the other side caused her pulse to speed up.

“Come in.”

Her breath caught the second their eyes met for an intense moment.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“The truth,” he commanded.

“I honestly feel better. If you want proof, ask Brigitte. She came for my tray and will tell you I ate all my roll and drank half the juice. So far I’ve kept it down.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

After shutting the door, he walked toward her carrying several shopping bags and handed her the smaller one.

“Go ahead and look inside. If it isn’t what you want, I’ll return it.”

Intrigued, Andrea sat up against the carved headboard and reached inside to discover a new camera and film. He’d already been to town for one! She couldn’t believe it.

“You didn’t need to do this,” she said, pulling it out of its box. There were instructions in four languages including English. She examined all the features. “This is perfect, but it’s much more expensive than mine.”

“As long as it works for you, that’s all Tonnerre cares about.”

She laughed gently. “That was very generous of him. Please thank your horse for me, Lance.”

His compelling mouth lifted at one corner. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

“What does his name mean in English? I’m curious.”

“Thunder.”

She smiled. “How apropos.”

He sat down in the chair he’d pulled up earlier and handed her the bigger bag. “This is from me.”

Andrea shook her head. “I can’t accept any more gifts.”

“These aren’t for you. Not exactly.”

Just as he spoke, she saw a rattle entwined in ribbon peeking at her. Letting out a small cry of delight she lifted her head. “What have you done?”

“What any excited father-to-be would do upon hearing the news he’d made his wife pregnant.”

Lance’s words shouldn’t have caused her to tremble, but they did …

To cover her emotions, she reached inside and pulled out box after box wrapped in white paper dotted with adorable little baby faces. Before long she’d opened everything and sat half buried in cuddly newborn outfits and soft blankets.

Beads of tears glistened on her lashes while she looked through the baby book. He’d brought several books in English about becoming a parent. She was so overcome by the gifts, tears spilled from her eyes. Within seconds she was convulsed.

“What’s the matter, Andrea?” his voice rasped. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Oh, no, Lance—” She lifted her moisture-drenched face to see the deep concern in his eyes. “Anything but. It just hurts to realize Richard won’t be here to do these kinds of things for the baby. He’ll have missed the whole experience, and our child will never know him.

“I can’t believe the timing of everything—” she cried out. “He should be here to help me! It doesn’t seem possible he’s not going to be around to be a father to our baby. How unfair that he was taken before he could experience the joy of even knowing he was going to be a dad.

“I know how I felt when I realized my parents had died and I would grow up never knowing them. It’s so cruel to an innocent child. I don’t want my son or daughter to grow up without their father.”

The tears kept coming. She felt like a bottomless geyser. “Forgive me, Lance. I didn’t mean to fall apart like this in front of you. You’ve been so good to me and have made this day so special.

“Look at all these darling clothes you took the time to purchase. And yet how sad it is that Richard couldn’t have been the one to do it. It’s what he would have wanted to do.” She shook her head. “Why is life so hard?”

Andrea tried to undo the other package he’d put on the bed, but she was having trouble. Lance must have become impatient because he reached over and finished opening the toy he’d bought for her. Out of the box bounced a French poodle. It played a tune but she couldn’t hear it for the radio, so she leaned over to shut it off.

He pushed the button again and the cute white dog jumped out, accompanied by the tune “Alouette.”

She smiled sadly as tears dripped off her chin. “I know that song. It’s probably the only thing I can sing in French.”

“Prove it,” he challenged her in that deep voice of his. She knew he’d said it to try to cheer her up. After all the trouble he’d gone to, she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Andrea shut the lid, then pushed the button once more and sang along. “My accent’s horrible,” she said when she’d finished.

His gaze had narrowed on her mouth. “I found it charming.”

Her heart was pounding too fast. “Lance—You’ve overwhelmed me with these gifts.”

“That was my intention.” He got to his feet. “Now do my father a favor and stay at the château for as long as you like. I understand you want to honor Richard’s memory with this book. I’d like to do all I can to help in order to atone for my sins.”

“You’ve already done that,” she whispered.

His body stiffened. “I’m aware how much you loved your husband. No matter how you deny it, I said and did things to hurt you, unaware of your grief. Let me try to make it up to you.”

For Lance to plead had to be a rare occurrence. Yet the longer she stayed here, the more she would be around Geoff’s arresting son. She didn’t need that complication in her life, especially when she was expecting Richard’s baby.

“Have you told your father I’m pregnant?”

“That’s not my place.” After a tension filled moment he said, “The doctor said you needed rest. Be honest. Nothing pressing requires you to get back to Connecticut right away.”

“No,” she murmured.

“Then the matter’s settled.” Before she could take her next breath he put the gifts he’d bought back in the bags and set them at the end of the bed. Then he handed her the pills and glass of water left on the table.

After she’d taken one he said, “What else can I get for you?”

“Nothing. You’ve done far too much already. I need to thank you for the radio. It has kept me company.”

He nodded. “When I need a distraction, I prefer it to television even now that I’m out of the service. However I could have you moved to the second floor if you’re missing TV.”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t understand it anyway. I much prefer being in this room where I can study all the paintings.”

He flashed her a glance she couldn’t decipher. “Can you guess which of them is my favorite?”

She knew which one she loved the most. It was the painting of Lancelot leaning over the queen in the bedchamber, a look of love and desire burning in his eyes. Her gaze went back to it again and again.

“Since you rode your horse as if it were a part of you, I presume you like the one where Guinevere is riding through the forest with Lancelot.” The queen lay in the crook of his arm and stroked his chin while her eyes devoured him.

Lance cocked his dark, handsome head. “You’re close. I’d rate that second. Think about it some more and tell me later.”

She wished he hadn’t put the thought in her mind. Now she’d spend the rest of the night trying to imagine which scene spoke to him at his deepest level.

It was probably the one where Lancelot lay on his back in a flowering meadow. He’d removed his armor. Guinevere was leaning over him, tickling him with a long pheasant feather from her cap. They were both smiling at each other, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

Lance Malbois had so many cares he kept to himself, Andrea assumed he would love that painting best. It represented a moment out of time where Lancelot could forget the world and love this woman of his heart without strife or fear of being caught out by the other knights.

Aware he was still standing there she said, “Before you go, let me thank you again for the presents. They’re so lovely, I’ll never forget.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“One day you’ll make a wonderful father for some lucky child.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lance.”

When she looked up at him, she glimpsed a bleakness in his eyes. After a tension-filled moment she heard him say, “Would it help if I told you life hasn’t been fair to me, either?”

Her gaze flew to his scar. “If you’re referring to your injury, in my opinion it adds to your attraction and makes you more interesting. Ask any woman and she’ll tell you the same thing.”

“That’s always nice to hear,” he said dryly, “but I’m referring to another one.”

She bit her lip. “You have more than the scar?” her voice shook.

“Sometimes the wounds on the inside do the most damage.”

He’d caught her attention. “What’s wrong with you?”

There was an unnatural quiet in the room before he said, “I can’t father a child, Andrea, I’m impotent.”

The impact of his words was so painful, her heart plunged to her feet. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her cry, but it escaped anyway.

They stared at each other while streams of unspoken words flowed between them.

“You’re the one person I know who understands how it feels to learn you’ll never be able to create a life from your own body. In fact you’re the only person in my life I’ve told,” he admitted soberly.

She groaned remembering Geoff’s excitement that Lance had come home for good. His expectations of grandchildren had put a new light in his eyes.

Those ever ready tears stung hers once more. “Oh, Lance—How did it happen? When?”

After a sharp intake of breath he said, “During one of my assignments in the Middle East, I was exposed to a chemical agent that put me in the hospital for a while. That was seven years ago. After I recovered, I was told I’d never be able to have children.”

To be told that was like being given a death sentence of sorts. She understood. Oh how she understood.

He would never know the joy of seeing himself in one of his own children. There’d be no flesh and blood baby who would grow up to look like the Malbois family.

“If you hadn’t gone in the military …”

“But I did.” His barely leashed anger revealed his pain. “Unlike you however, there’s no miracle that can change my condition.”

Andrea had nothing to say to that. There weren’t any words to give him the smallest hope. She’d never felt so helpless.

“Suffice it to say, not many women of childbearing age want to marry a man who can’t give them a child.”

Right now wasn’t the time to assure Lance there were plenty of women out there who’d give anything to be his wife if he were in love with them. They’d agree to adoption. In any case, the woman who wanted to be his wife wouldn’t make children the issue.

Yet with hindsight she could see that her being infertile had mattered to Richard. He hadn’t even wanted to discuss adoption. If she’d heard she couldn’t have a baby before she’d married him, he would have lost interest in her and walked away. He liked a well ordered life, everything in its place. Anything less than perfect didn’t suit.

Andrea had turned out to be less than perfect. Maybe that was why their sex life had suffered in their marriage. It could explain why he’d ended up burying himself in his books.

When she looked back, she realized she’d been the one to reach out to him on the day he’d died, hoping to ignite that missing spark.

She buried her face in her hands. “Your father’s going to feel terrible for you. You’re his raison d’être.“

“He’ll deal with it.”

“But what about you, Lance? Honestly …” With her heart aching for him, she lifted her head to look at him.

“For a few moments in the clinic today when Dr. Semplis congratulated us, I felt as if you and I had made your baby together. I liked the feeling. So much in fact that I’d like to be its father on a permanent basis.”

She sat up straighter. What was he saying?

“You’ve asked for an honest response from me, so let me ask you a question. How would you like to marry me?”

For the second time in one day, her world stood still. It took her a minute before she could speak.

“You’re talking a marriage of convenience?” she asked in wonder.

“I guess that’s one way of putting it,” he drawled. “From the outset it’s been clear you and your husband enjoyed a great marriage. I realize a love like that only comes once in a lifetime.

“Life has dealt us both a great blow to our dreams, so I’m not going to ask for the impossible. But if you’d let me, I’d like to give you my name. Then I can be there to help you through your pregnancy, and after. I’ll provide for you and the baby for the rest of my life. Everything I have will be yours.

“I can promise you it won’t be hard to say it’s mine. After listening to its heartbeat, I already feel a bond. What are the chances of that happening again? This will be the closest I’ll ever come to playing the role of father right from the cradle.

“Think about it, and we’ll talk more tomorrow after I’ve come back from Rennes. If you’re feeling up to it, we’ll take a drive into the country for dinner.

“In the meantime, do me a favor and mind the doctor. I’ll instruct the kitchen to send up your meals tomorrow. That way you can give those pills a chance to do their job while you rest.

“Bonne nuit, Andrea.”

Still in shock, she watched him leave, knowing there’d be no rest for her from now on. Not when the future Duc Du Lac had just asked her to marry him so he could have a baby.

Richard’s baby.

But Richard wasn’t alive, and Lance, who was very much alive, yet could never get a woman pregnant, was prepared to step in and father her baby.

It meant she’d never have a financial worry. She could be the total stay-at-home mother she’d dreamed of being, and her baby would have a daddy who would raise him and love him.

Andrea had no doubts about Lance’s devotion to her child. His reaction at the clinic, the excitement in his eyes when he’d gone out to buy her the gifts, let her know he’d be a natural when it came to fatherhood. After all, he was Geoff’s son. What better role model could any man have.

Her baby would inherit a grandfather who would lavish his love on his grandchild.

Three people who’d known loss would dote on her baby. What a lucky boy or girl to be the recipient of so much love.

The only way the decision to marry Lance wouldn’t be convenient was if he eventually met a woman and fell madly in love.

Andrea had no doubts he would always be there for their child, but he would feel trapped in the marriage he’d entered into with Andrea. That would be the risk she’d be taking if she said yes to him now, and then further down the road he wanted out.

For the rest of the night she tossed and turned, wishing she couldn’t feel or understand his pain that he couldn’t procreate.

She should never have listened to him—never have given him the chance to broach the subject with her. Something had told her there’d be a price to pay if she did.

There was a price all right.

He’d stripped her of her of peace of mind. Lance knew she’d become emotionally involved and had purposely left her to writhe while she considered the pros and cons of his outrageous marriage proposal.

It was a desperate measure on the part of a very desperate man. If she agreed to it, what did that make her?

Every kind of a fool for even entertaining something that could bring untold pain and anguish down the road.

CHAPTER FIVE

“THIS is a lovely old inn, Lance. What does the name of it mean in English?”

He studied Andrea’s oval face in the candlelight. She had the classic features of a true beauty. He doubted she wore anything but lipstick.

“It’s called the Gold Chestnut Tree. If you hadn’t become ill the other day, I would have shown you the real one.”

She blinked. “Real one?”

“In 1990 there was a fire here in the Valley of No Return. It burned for five days. Afterward thousands of donations poured in from around the world to help save the mythical heritage that abounds here. Papa was one of the people instrumental in spearheading it.”

“Five days—”

“It was devastating. You may have heard of the Parisian sculptor, François Davin. He created a huge golden chestnut tree with pure gold leaves to pay tribute to international cooperation. The tree symbolizes the immortality of the dreams of men of goodwill.”

“I believe Richard did mention something about it. The branches are supposed to resemble a stag’s antlers.”

“That’s right. It’s to commemorate the wild animals who led the knights through the enchanted forests, and to remind us of the power of man’s love of Mother Nature.”

“How lovely,” she mused.

The personification of loveliness was seated across from him. “How was your crêpe?”

“As you can see, I ate most of it. Combined with the cider, everything tasted delicious.”

“No nausea spells this afternoon?”

She shook her head. The golden-brown strands glistened against her shoulders. With eyes dark as poppy throats, she had an enchanting color scheme.

“I spent part of the afternoon with your father in the garden and kept waiting to be sick, but it didn’t happen. The medicine has worked wonders.”

That was good news.

Since driving away from the château with her, Lance had purposely kept up desultory conversation to put her at ease. To his chagrin she’d seemed so comfortable with him throughout dinner, he had the premonition she’d made up her mind to turn him down hours before. As a result, she was enjoying their evening out without any accompanying nervousness.

Lance on the other hand found his appetite had left him. Once having asked her to consider his proposal, the idea that she might turn him down was getting harder and harder to accept. In fact it was quite unthinkable.

Baby or no baby, he discovered he wanted to be with her all the time. His physical attraction to her had been immediate. Knowing she was pregnant made her even more desirable.

Tonight she looked lit up inside. In the simple black dress and strand of pearls, her curvaceous body moved with a femininity that made him ache to touch her. He was charmed by her soft laughter. She was a person who enjoyed the small moments.

Andrea wanted nothing from him. As a consequence, he was prepared to give her his name. So far no other woman had meant enough to him that he wanted to live with her on a constant basis, let alone be responsible for her.