THE EARL'S PREGNANT BRIDE by Christine Rimmer - THE BRAVO ROYALES (BRAVO FAMILY TIES #41) 08 - THE EARL'S PREGNANT BRIDE Page A

Edward is gone,” she sobbed. “And that leaves Rafe to ape his betters and pretend to be the lord and heir that he can never, ever be....” Her shoulders shook. She swiped at her streaming eyes. “It’s only that I can’t bear it, you see? Sometimes I wish I could die. Sometimes I just want to curl into a li’l ball of misery and die.”
    But Fiona didn’t die. She only covered her face with both hands, fell over sideways on the sofa and dissolved completely into an ugly fit of soggy snorts and heavy sobs.
    Genny did nothing for several seconds. She sat there and watched Fiona cry and longed to get up, march over there, grab Brooke’s BFF by her long red hair and slap her good and hard across her snot-soaked, splotchy little face.

Chapter Seven
    G enny gave herself a count of ten to let her violent urges fade down to a slow-burning rage. And then she said, slowly and clearly, “I’ll say it again. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m as sorry as anyone that Edward is gone. But Rafe is doing Hartmore proud and he is every inch the earl in every way. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop spreading vicious lies.”
    Fiona only went on sobbing. “I can’t bear it. I never s’pected he would... That it would end. It
can’t
end. That’s not how it was supposed to be....”
    Clearly, there was no point in talking to her.
    Genny got up, went to the door to the hallway and opened it wide. Then she marched into the bedroom and took the box of tissues from the dressing table. She carried it back to the sitting room and stood above the sobbing, shoeless woman in the yellow dress. “Fiona.”
    “What?” Fiona dragged herself to a sitting position. Her dark eyeliner had dribbled down her cheeks. She blinked at the tissues. “Ugh. Thanks.” She whipped out a handful and dabbed at the mess on her face. “I’m...” She let out an enormous belch. “Oh. S’cuse me. So sorry...”
    “Take it.” Genny shoved the box at her.
    Fiona caught it, fumbling, and blinked up at her. She was catching on at last. “Oh, my. I do b’lieve you’re bloody cheesed off....”
    “Yes, I am.” She grabbed Fiona’s shoes in one hand. With the other, she took Fiona’s arm and hauled her upright. “And you are going to your room.”
    “I don’t think that’s such a good idea...walking and all that. I’m a li’l woozy...”
    Genny ignored her. She jerked the arm she held, guiding it up and across her shoulders.
    “Ow! You’re
hurting
me....”
    “You’re going now.” Genny started moving, taking Fiona with her, to the door and through it.
    Half walking, half dragging the other woman, Genny somehow managed to keep them upright and moving down to the end of that hallway and on to the next.
    Halfway down that second hallway, Fiona dropped the box of tissues. “Stop,” she whined. “The tissues...”
    Genny only snapped, “Never mind that,” and kept them lurching along toward the room Fiona always used when she came to Hartmore.
    It took forever. With each step, Genny feared Fiona would pass out completely. Or chuck up all that wine she’d drunk.
    But they made it to Fiona’s room at last. Genny dropped Fiona’s shoes on the threshold and shoved open the door.
    Inside, Genny dragged the other woman past the small sitting area and over to the neatly turned-back bed. She backed them both to the mattress and sat Fiona down on it, then eased out from under the limp weight of her arm. Fiona swayed in place for a moment—and then collapsed back across the bed, her shoeless feet dangling over the side.
    Genny stared down at her, thoroughly disgusted. She tried to think of one final thing to say to her, the right words that would shut her evil little mouth about Rafe once and for all.
    But then Fiona started snoring.
    Genny went to the door, scooped up the yellow shoes and tossed them into the room. Then, quietly, she shut the door and returned to the East Bedroom, only pausing to get the fallen