“Glanville!” Grace exclaimed, dropping her sewing and rising from her chair as her husband entered the room.

The creases running on either side of his mouth were dark with dust, and deep shadows encircled his eyes. Was the news bad, after all? Was Mr. Dutton to hang? Glanville looked travel worn and tired. She studied his face anxiously, but his stony expression gave nothing away.

Her clasped hands tightened into a knot at her waist. “What was the verdict? What happened?”

He smiled, his entire face lightening. Despite the fact that they’d been married for several months, his grin retained the power to send clouds of butterflies fluttering through her stomach. Her lips twitched in a hesitant smile in response.

“There you are, Grace.”

“Yes, here I am. Please don’t tease me—what happened?”

Glanville waited until he was close enough to catch her hands in his. His fingers were warm and strong around hers. “It was unaccountable.”

“Unaccountable? What do you mean? What was the verdict?”

“For some inexplicable reason, the jury decided Dutton’s actions should be construed as self-defense. He was acquitted.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Her limbs shook, suddenly weak with relief, and she clutched at Glanville’s strong arms.

He caught her with a chuckle and kissed the top of her head as his arms tightened around her.

Laughing, she pushed him away far enough to look into his craggy face. Amusement danced in his eyes.

“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that inexplicable decision, did you?” she asked, tilting her chin at a saucy angle.

In a dramatic display of shock, Glanville shook his head. “No, my dear. I would never dream of trying to influence the course of justice.”

“Perhaps not. But you were more than happy to ensure that Mr. Dutton was provided with the best legal counsel possible, weren’t you?”

“Of course.” He shifted his hands to more firmly grip her waist. “You did say that it was the very least I could do.” His gaze drifted to her mouth.

“Oh! Have you told Agnes? She’ll be frantic to know the outcome!” Grace twisted, trying to escape from his embrace. Pale and hollow eyed, Mr. Dutton’s sister had been walking the floors at night, sick with worry. She had to be told her brother wouldn’t hang. “Let me go!” Grace pushed at his chest with no discernable effect. “I must let her know!”

“I imagine Dutton has already told her.”

“Dutton!” She stared up at him.

“He returned with me and went directly to the kitchen.”

Sighing, Grace settled back into her husband’s embrace, resting her cheek against his wide chest. “I am so relieved, my love. And so grateful.” She peered up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “However, you are not the only one with news.”

Warmth glimmered in his eyes. “News? No—don’t tell me, Mr. Wolstenholme has found a new curate.”

“Don’t be silly.” She tapped his arm with her fist. The only result was a slight bruising of her knuckles against his rocklike muscle. “I don’t believe he wants a new curate, or ever will again.”

“Then what secrets have you discovered?” One brow quirked. “Surely, you haven’t found another body, have you?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous.” Her smile deepened. “I hope—no, I know—that in about seven months, you will need to hire a nanny.”

“A nanny?” Glanville’s gaze roved over her face, his body rigid. “Grace! Are you sure?”

“Yes. Fairly sure.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when he crushed her against him. His heart thundered under her cheek. She listened for a second before such a strong surge of elation leapt through her that she broke into laughter. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she gulped, trying to control her emotions. When she glanced up, she was not surprised to see her husband grinning like a fool.

“Are you pleased?” she asked, her voice shaking with joy.

“Pleased? Pleased? My dearest heart, that does not begin to describe my feelings at this moment. I love you.” He lowered his head and kissed her. “Both of you. And I always will.”