Drake took in the dark circles under Penelope’s eyes as she rubbed her slightly rounded belly. “You appear quite fatigued.” “No. I’m fine. The doctor said light exercise is good for the baby and me.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and leaned toward her ear. “I can think of other ways we can entertain ourselves if we stay home. And provide exercise, too.” He slid his hand up to cup her breast, kneading gently. She purred, resting her back against his hardness. Once they’d returned to Manchester Manor at the end of July, with his mother and sisters in tow, her continuing queasy stomach and unusual fatigue had increased. Finally, the dowager duchess had pulled his wife aside and enlightened her. Whereupon, Penelope had taken no time at all to make the announcement to him. He was to be a father sometime in March. Although he had relented and, in fact, now encouraged Penelope to continue with her scientific studies, he had drawn the line at her crawling around in the dirt in her condition.
