Free The Viscount Returns by Eryn Black Page B

tossing orders over his shoulder.
    “Ruth, my son and I will dine in the breakfast room this morning before I take him to town where we will hire a new upstairs maid and a keeper for my wife. If a caged game keeper are necessary then so be it. My wife will remain here and I am afraid her breakfast will have to wait until I can find someone to feed her nourishment.”
    “But, sir—”
    “No one, and I repeat, no one may untie her until I say so. The laws of England have charged me with full reign and ownership of her body and I mean to see that her body remains warm and above ground.”
    The lock of his door gave an aggressive period to his commands.

Chapter 8
     
     
     
    “My Lord.” Sprout came bouncing into the breakfast room with all the energy of any normal seven-year-old. Robert took one last peaceful look out the window at the stream that fed into his special pond before manufacturing a smile and facing his son. The boy’s eagerness to please his father with a loving honest smile warmed Robert’s heart. He knew not what it was like to be a father, but starting with one already half grown child seemed like the easiest start.
    “Good morning, Sprout.” He approached the boy with his hands clasped behind his back and his voice was warmed with a friendly note, but his body was rigid with his discomfort. He had never been exposed to children, even when he was one with his only companions being his brother and Sara. They had never been given a chance to play as local children may have been encouraged to.
    Sprout did not hesitate or allow his father’s body language to deter him. Crossing the room, he wrapped his arms over Robert’s, embracing his very rigid father. Stuttering in his response, Robert did not fight off the boy but tried to pull a hand free to pat the boy on the head. Unaware of the giant step that Robert had just taken, Sprout took his seat beside the head of the table, leaving that seat for his father. Robert was amazed at how quickly the boy—his boy—could adjust and relinquish his role as head of the household to him. His boy was just that, a boy still at the nursery age, but no doubt had inherited his father’s sense of pride and duty. Something that Robert had taken too long to take on himself and was still struggling with.
    “I regret to tell you that your mother is still under the weather and will perhaps be confined to her room for the remainder of the week.” Only minutes ago he had no qualms about binding his wife to her bed and nearly commanded a husband's right to his wife’s body.
    “I understand.” The boy swallowed back a mouthful of fresh bread. “Mother used to get sick a lot. Ruth says it’s from the complications.” He reached for his milk.
    “Complications?”
    “From my birth,” the boy whispered. “I know I am not supposed to know such things, but Ruth says it’s important that I know what happened.” Looking down, he watched his fingers play nervously in his lap.
    “And I still think it was the right thing to do.” Ruth announced herself from the doorway. “Everyone should know and understand what life has to offer, the good as well as the bad.”
    She came into the room and placed a small plate of fresh baked treats for Sprout’s pleasure.
    “I agree to a point, but perhaps when referring to a child’s birth it would be best to hold off such information until the child is no longer a…child.” Robert knew that he was the last person to preach about moral conduct, but he was beginning to see a gray line ahead of him. "When my son is only a babe himself, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from telling him any more about the miracles of life.” He did not make light, to his disdain, of the word miracle. Never had Robert seen birth for anything more than a required step towards death.
    Her hands clung to her hips and she gave out a breath in revolt.
    “I’ll have you know that when I helped to pull you and your brother into this world I could