Ainsley, old chap, how are you?” Walfort asked. He was still in the carriage, peering out the window.
Ainsley stepped back. Walfort didn’t seem at all distressed seeing him for the first time since he’d sent his wife to Blackmoor Cottage. He wondered if he could be as unaffected as Walfort if he found himself gazing upon a man who had known his wife intimately. He didn’t think so. As a matter of fact, he knew so. In all likelihood, even if he had no use of his legs, he’d find a way to catapult himself from the carriage and introduce the man to his fists.
“Don’t know if you’ve heard,” Walfort continued. “Jayne is with child.”
He understood the motivation behind his cousin’s announcement. He’d done it for the benefit of the servants. A man thrilled with the realization that his wife would soon give birth. A man letting all know that he was still a man.
Ainsley couldn’t help himself. His gaze flickered back to Jayne. “That’s wonderful news. Congratulations.” He thought his voice could not have carried less excitement if he were already in the grave.