Page 36 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“I happen to like water,” said Tobias stubbornly before drawing forth some penny candy and sharing a piece with Edward. “I get it from a good pump.”
“You’re going to end up yelling as Rymer draws out your teeth if you keep eating this,” said Edward, happily sucking on the lemon drop himself.
“I had a thought on the way over,” said Tobias, playing with his flat cap. “Why are the bucks and bloods talking about this case so much?”
“Dalpole’s wife? Yes, ‘tis strange that they discuss a lady in the breeding state,” said Edward, choosing his words carefully to protect young Tobias, though he’d seen and heard things on the streets Edward couldn’t imagine. “My mother always boxed my ears if I so much as acknowledged the existence of procreation. God forbid one admit to knowing a lady wasenceinte.”
“Perhaps the lady went outside the house too often in her condition?” asked Tobias skeptically. “But why should they be yammering about this in connection with you, when you’ve bedded plenty of ladies? For money.”
Edward and Tobias sucked on their candy and mulled over the problem.
“It seems rather pointless, doesn’t it?” asked Edward.
“How so?”
“Well, if the lady is already breeding, why would a stud be involved?” asked Lord Edward.
“If she’s already got a baby in her belly, she doesn’t need your services,” said Tobias.
“Yes, and why would her husband allow such talk to continue, especially when she’s in a delicate state? It might upset her.”
They listened to the fading screams from the main room of the barbershop while trying to make sense of this conundrum.
“I think I need to pay a call on the Dalpole household and see what I can learn,” said Edward, dusting some clipped hair from his boots and grabbing his hat.
Chapter 2
With the help ofdirections obtained from Tobias, Edward reached the Dalpole townhouse before morning calls — actually taking place in the afternoon — were done.
The butler showed him into a bright sitting room, and soon, the lady of the house swept in.
Charlotte Dalpole was a young woman, pretty enough, but rendered beautiful by her burgeoning belly. Her pregnancy had sent her bosom to the heavens, leaving Lord Edward hard as stone.
He took a seat next to her on the divan and placed a small pillow thoughtfully in his lap.
“I wondered when you might pay a call,” she said excitedly.
“Were you now?” asked Edward, surprised but pleased that she had no plans to feign ignorance of the gossip.
“Yes. You see, I’ve been hearing talk,” she said.
Excellent. They could exchange information efficiently and squash these rumors in no time.
“When it concerns me, talk is often true. Except in this case, as you know.”
Her face fell. “I did not realize the stories were not true.”
“You, better than anyone, should know—” Edward stopped when he realized the source of the confusion. Clearly, they were discussing two very different stories. “To which stories are you referring?”
“It is said that you engage in the marital act for money,” she said, leaning over to pour tea.
He attempted not to look down the front of her Grecian dress, he really did, but the necklines du jour were so favorably placed and her bosom so bounteous that Edward was riveted to where the dough overflowed the bowl, so to speak. The nearly sheer fabric seemed to suggest a hard peach nipple. London’s wives were going to get him shot. Again!
“I don’t mean to correct you, madam,” he said, pulling his eyes away regretfully. “But I do not engage in the marital act formoney. I step in and provide breeding services for fine families in need of help.”
“Is there a difference?” she asked, her face betraying a good deal of confusion.
“Ahh, yes,” he said, setting down his saucer and teacup so he might use his hands for this lesson. Baroness Dalpole was proving considerably thick in places other than her midsection, and he’d need full use of his person to educate her.
