Chapter One

"I shouldn't tell you about it," Daisy railed, pacing back and forth in the Marsden parlor later that evening. "In your condition you shouldn't be distressed. But I can't keep it to myself or I will explode, which you would probably find infinitely more distressing."

Her older sister lifted her head from Lord Westcliff's supportive shoulder. "Tell me," Lillian said, swallowing against another wave of nausea. "I'm distressed only when people keep things from me." She was half-reclining on the long settee, settled in the crook of Westcliff's arm as he spooned some lemon ice into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, her dark lashes resting in spiky crescents against her pale cheeks.

"Better?" Westcliff asked gently, swabbing a stray drop near the corner of her lips.

Lillian nodded, her face ghastly white. "Yes, I think it's helping. Ugh. You had better pray for a boy, Westcliff, because this is your only chance at an heir. I'm never going through this again -- "

"Open your mouth," he said, and fed her more flavored ice.

Ordinarily Daisy would have been touched by the glimpse into the Westcliffs' private life . . . it was rare that anyone saw Lillian so vulnerable, or Marcus so gentle and concerned. But Daisy was so distracted by her own problems that she barely noticed their interaction as she blurted out, "Father has given me an ultimatum. Tonight he -- "

"Wait," Westcliff said quietly, adjusting his hold on Lillian. As he eased his wife to her side, she leaned more heavily on him, one slender white hand coming to rest on the curve of her belly. He murmured something indecipherable into her