Emery blinked at her like a hoot owl through his thick-lensed spectacles."Gout? No, your Grace, I don't have gout. But thank you for being concerned."

Confused, Jules gazed at Nicholas.

"Emery doesn't hear very well, I'm afraid," he replied to her unspokenquestion.

The man was eighty if he was a day. Poor boy had no family. Nicholas hadtaken him in, but never let his butler think he was there on charity. Emeryhad a great deal of pride.

Besides, he'd come with a sterling reference from the Tuileries--even ifthe piece of paper had been yellowed with age since it was nearly thirty yearsold.

But Nicholas wouldn't complain. Most top-notch butlers didn't want to workfor a Sinclair, let alone an untitled one. It was professional suicide.

Nicholas pointed to the item in his butler's hand. "Use your horn." Theinstrument, shaped like a moose's antler, amplified sound. Nicholas had boughtthe contraption in an effort to keep his sanity. More often than not, Emeryleft it somewhere and promptly forgot its location.

More than one of his butler's faculties had deteriorated with age. Nicholasoften found himself answering his own door when Emery had fallen asleep in achair in the hallway.

One time the old boy even took a nap in Nicholas's bed. But did Nicholasrouse Emery from his sweet dreams and send him scuffling back to his own room?No. Instead Nicholas camped out on a chair in case his butler decided to takeup sleepwalking and get himself killed. Nicholas woke in the morning with acrick in his neck that lasted for three days.

Emery put the horn to his ear and Jules repeated her comment with a greatdeal of amusement.

"No, Your Grace. The master is not a lout. He treats me very well indeed."

Nicholas nudged his cousin with an elbow. "See? I'm the very milk of humankindness," he told her, straight-faced, to which she promptly rolled her eyes.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" Emery inquired, attempting tostraighten his permanently stooped shoulders. Nicholas swore he heard theman's bones creaking.

"No, thank you, Emery. That will be all."

"Yes, sir." He bowed so low Nicholas could see the bald spot on top of hishead. Nicholas was grateful the man had ceased wearing the ridiculous periwigthat made him look as if he had stepped out of another century. Gray keptreferring to him as Father Time.

Jules chuckled as her gaze moved from Emery's departing figure to Nicholas."He seems very nice."

"When he is awake, he's quite nice."

She studied him for a long moment as if perhaps a third eyeball hadappeared in the middle of his forehead. "I have to admit I'm surprised,though."

"Surprised? At what? That I've grown even more handsome since you left?"

"That was never in question. You were always too attractive for your owngood. I pity the poor women who fall for the Sinclair brothers."

"Well, then, you can go see Damien and ask his wife if she needs somepitying. A do not disturb sign would be more apropos. I ate dinner with themone night and they spent the whole time gazing at each other like lovesickgeese, yearning oozing from every pore. Frankly, it's sickening. My palmsactually get clammy whenever I'm around them."

Jules gazed at him, unblinking, her look identical to those expressions ofstunned shock Nicholas had seen when Damien had returned with a wife in tow--and not just any wife, but a girl who had once intended to become a nun.

The devil had been reformed. And from what Nicholas had witnessed thus far,his brother basked in paradise. All he needed were pretty white wings and aharp to complete the idyllic picture.

Nicholas still reeled. His mentor had gotten leg-shackled--a master ofdebauchery who had oft been heard to say, "A man without a wife is like a neckwithout a pain."

Nicholas grew up learning there were three essentials to survival and theywere not reading, writing, and arithmetic, but rather that he should never tryto comprehend the labor of bees, the ebb and flow of the tide, or the mind ofa woman. The advice had served him well over the years.

"I can't believe it," Jules uttered when she found her voice. "Damien ...married."

"I know, my girl. Damien and married are two words that just don't seemsynonymous, do they? It's like heaven and hell. Black and white. Oil andwater. Peas and carrots." He frowned. "On second thought, peas and carrots dohave a certain harmony, so let's exclude them."

Jules wasn't listening. Her face still wore a glazed expression, as ifNicholas had just informed her that Jesus was coming for dinner.

Then she blinked and cohesive thought returned. "When? Where? How?" Alitany that had oft been repeated in the last month.

"In a convent. About a month ago. And God only knows. Amazing, isn't it?And here scientists claim there are only seven wonders of the world. Bloody skeptics."

She shook her head. "How things have changed in such a short time."

"That's not the only thing that has changed, I see." Smiling, Nicholasglanced down at his cousin's gently rounded stomach. "William has kept youbusy."

With all the tenderness of a mother expecting her first child, Jules laid ahand on her swelling womb. Her face glowed with an inner light. "Very busyindeed," she murmured with secret pleasure.

Nicholas beamed. "Now I'll have another generation to teach all about beinga Sinclair. The name comes with a certain amount of responsibility, as youwell know."

She leveled him with a look that said hell hath no fury like a woman whosebaby is tampered with by a roving bachelor. She appeared surprisinglyferocious for a mother-to-be, her rosy glow having nothing to do withimpending childbirth but rather with the urge to clout him with the nearestobject.

"William will have your heart on a silver platter if you dare corrupt thisbabe."

William wasn't the only one, it seemed.

"The old boy has become too severe in his dotage," Nicholas scoffed, wavinga dismissive hand. "Frankly, I'm surprised he knew how to get you with child."

"Oh, he knew, all right." A slight smile curled a corner of her lip. "And Idon't think he will appreciate your comments about his being old, especiallysince he is only five years your senior."

"Only five? I would have thought at least twenty."

Her hands on her hips, Jules glowered at Nicholas with eyes likethunderbolts prepared to cleave him in two where he stood. "I won't tell himyou said that. He might feel it necessary to take issue with you, and I'dprefer not to have my child shrieking in fear when it sees its cockeyedrelative."

Nicholas tipped back his head and laughed. "Puss, you've got it backward."

She quirked a brow. "Really? I seem to recall William had the upper handthe last time you two went head to head in another one of those barbaric maletests of strength."

Nicholas frowned. "I let the sod win," he grumbled, disgruntled at theremembrance.

"Male egos are such fragile things." She chuckled and strolled past him,leaving him to scowl at the wall. "So what have you been doing since I left? Ihope you haven't gotten into too much trouble."

"Plenty." Turning, he wagged his eyebrows.

"You are hopeless." She tried to ease herself onto the settee, a difficulttask with her expanding waistline.

Nicholas moved to help and then settled himself next to her. "Well, nowthat you are back, you can keep me in line. That is if your slave-drivinghusband will allow you out of his sight long enough to be my shadow. You don'tknow how many of the good Lord's commandments I inadvertently bend--or break,rather--without your guiding light to pull me from the black abyss."

Tenderly, Jules brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. "Someday, dearcousin Nicky, you shall get your comeuppance. And I hope I'm here to see it."

"That's not a very benevolent attitude, my girl."

"Pssh! You need a swift kick in the backside."

Nicholas chuckled. "I see marriage has not mellowed you. You still speakyour mind at will."

She nodded briskly. "And I shall continue to do so, and you men had bestget used to it."

Nicholas gave her a jaunty salute. "Yes, ma'am. Will that be all, ma'am?Should I spit shine your shoes? Polish your pretty buttons? Hold yourreticule? Or just cower at your dainty feet?"

"You don't want to ... oh!" Her eyes widened to saucers. One hand grippedthe arm of the settee, the other she placed over her stomach.

Nicholas felt like a vise had clamped around his neck when he saw hiscousin's pale visage. Quickly, he knelt in front of her. "What is it, Cooch?Are you hurt? Do you want to lie down? Do you need a doctor?"

She took his hand and placed it on top of her stomach. "The baby kicked."

Nicholas swallowed. "It can ... do that?"

Jules rolled her eyes. "Men!"

Nicholas grinned sheepishly, feeling out of his element. Babies gave himthe jitters, as did pregnant women. Something eminently fragile about bothmade him feel like a clumsy oaf, which was why it was rather strange that hewas considering settling down and starting a family of his own--unless hestill expected babies to be born the way Gray had claimed they did whenNicholas was a child.

Gray had been a worldly fourteen to Nicholas's ten when his brother hadtold him that, according to Damien-- the oldest sibling, and therefore thewisest--that to get a woman pregnant he had to plant his seed in her.

Wide-eyed, Nicholas had stared down at the sunflower seeds in the palm ofhis hand, his favorite snack. Panic shot through his system as his mind racedto recall if he had given any seeds to the pretty little blond-haired daughterof one of their tenants.

For weeks afterward, he had dreaded the day that little girl would tell himshe was pregnant. The thought of becoming a husband made sweat trickle downhis back-- a reaction that still haunted him as an adult.

He had wondered what his parents would say when they found out, wondered ifthey'd make him leave home, wondered if he could take Martha, their cook, withhim because she made pudding the way he liked it, with milk instead of water.

And then came the big wonder: Would his soon-to-be wife have the samebedtime as he? What if she got to stay up later? That possibility hadcertainly ruffled his ten-year-old feathers. Good thing she wasn't pregnant.

Not surprisingly, he had stopped eating sunflower seeds that day--and hehadn't had one since.

At first Nicholas had blamed his inexplicable desire to end his blissful Meof rakehell and rabble-rouser on Damien and the fact his brother had broken a longstanding pact never to be caught in a matrimonial choke-hold. Nicholas hadconcluded that the urge to hang himself with the same noose had come from achildlike need to do whatever his older brother did, a sort ofyou-did-it-I'll-do-it thing.

But that wasn't it.

The desire to cleave himself unto a woman he called wife had been in him long before Damien got married. Nicholas had never let himself acknowledge it.But just because he had acknowledged it didn't mean he was ready to jump headover arse into the murky pool of domesticity. Frankly, the whole idea made himshake like a drunk on a three-day dry spell.

The only thing Nicholas knew conclusively was that when he married it wouldbe to a woman of impeachable character; refined, malleable, pure.

Faithful.

Unlike his own mother. The thought of her caused his belly to cramp.

"Are you all right?" Jules asked, laying her hand on top of his.

Nicholas threw off his disturbing thoughts and smiled at his cousin. "I'mfine. Why?"

"You're clenching your teeth."

"I was thinking about the pain in my back."

"What's the matter with your back?"

"Nothing yet, but when I try to heave you off this settee it will be likeMuhammad moving the mountain."

"You're a beast!" she huffed, her lip twitching, and then she laughed withhim.

When he sobered, he asked in a more serious tone, "Does it hurt?"

She shook her head, her hand smoothing over her stomach. "No. It feelswonderful. Below my heart lies a beautiful little human that William and Icreated. It moves me in ways I cannot define."

Beneath Nicholas's palm, something stirred, and then he felt what he couldonly describe as a tiny kick. His heart lurched. "Sweet God," he whispered.Knowing he appeared like a wide-eyed schoolboy, he stared at his cousin withawe. "I'll be damned. It's moving!"

"I should hope so. The cheeky bugger has been quite active of late."

Jules's eyes glowed with love for her unborn child, causing that odd acheNicholas had experienced on and off since he was a child to wrap around himlike a gray, clinging tentacle.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

"Upset me? Don't be a goose."

"Still..." Nicholas stood up abruptly, raking a hand through his hair. "Doyou ... need anything?"

Before she could reply, he caught the edge of the cocktail table; legsscraping across the floor as he dragged it over. He put her feet up on it.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you comfortable."

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I'd prefer it if you just satnext to me. I have a favor to ask."

Nicholas vaulted over the table and sat down. "Ask away."

"Do you remember the missive I sent you about a month or so ago?"

Nicholas searched his mind and drew a blank. When it came to his beloved horses, he was known to retain even the most minute details. Everything elsegot lost in the shuffle.

"I treasure everything you send me," he replied in lieu of an answer.

She cocked an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "You've forgotten, haven't you?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "A temporary lapse, I assure you. Refresh mymemory."

"Well, I mentioned that a friend of mine was coming to visit."

"For your sake, I hope this friend doesn't have a deep voice and hairylegs, especially if William still has that old blunderbuss hanging from a pegin his office."

"My William is ever the gentleman and not jealous one whit."