ever just reached out and held her, taken the scared girl she had been in his arms and recognized her fears.
She gasped for air, trying to bring herself under control.
“Here, take this.” He held out a glass to her.
She took it, swallowed, almost spit the brandy all over the fine brocade of his jacket.
“I fail to see the humor in the situation.” He sounded so stiff. Was there anything left of the warm, caring man she had loved for the last three months.
Love.
Her laughter stopped in an instant. She loved him. That was what had brought the magic. She took another gulp of brandy. How had this happened? Tears welled behind her eyes. From laughter to tears in seconds. He would think her mad.
She had to try one more time. The world could not be so cruel as to show her such riches and the cast her into the gutter. She would not be alone again.
“So why did you marry me? What did you hope to gain, if as you claim you had reasons beyond revenge?” She stood and walked towards him. She needed to see deep into his eyes when he answered.
He stared back at her. His lips pressed together, the skin stretched tautly across his cheeks. His eyes shifted, tracking down her body and then returning to her face. For a moment his features softened and her heart skipped a beat. Then he turned from her and walked to the door. “I have said all I care to say on this matter. You know my feelings.”
Marguerite stood motionless in the middle of the room. Masculine scents, tobacco, brandy, leather, and horses surrounded her. If she closed her eyes she could have believed he was still there.
But, he was not.
“What am I to do now?” she said to no one. “The man is not an idiot. Surely, he knows that his wishes will make very little difference in the situation.”
She ran a hand over her still flat belly, let it rest for a moment against the life within. She started to shake with cold fury, the anger returning. No, Tristan was not an idiot. He had shared her bed for too months, no matter what his ‘precautions.’ It was unreasonable and irresponsible of him to react as if he had no part in this.
She stalked over to the window. His gelding was gone, but the pretty mare he had presented her with such joy still stood saddled, staring patiently at the stable door. It was a reminder of how quickly the world could change.
Chapter Seventeen
What had he done? He was not an idiot. Tristan spurred the horse to a gallop despite the pedestrians starting to wander the pathways. Dammit all. Why had he not taken more precautions with Marguerite? He’d been around enough to know that a baby could catch no matter what, but still there were more reliable methods.
Dammit all.
It wasn’t like he’d wanted her to get pregnant. Was it?
He pulled back on the reins at the thought, causing the gelding to balk.
He’d given up all thoughts of home and family when he’d found his mother and her lover – found out what a lie his family had been. He tapped his heels against the horse’s ribs quickening the pace again.
What had he been thinking over these past months? Or had he been thinking? No, he hadn’t and that was the crux of the matter. He’d convinced himself that withdrawal was enough. Being with Marguerite was so comfortable, so easy that he’d left his brains behind. When he was with her he almost believed again in possibilities.
He started to pull back on the reins again, but caught himself – talk about not thinking. This was no way to treat a mount. He pulled the horse to halt and dismounted. He walked forward, the horse following behind.
What did he want?
It was in and of itself a stupid question. He knew that regardless of his wishes the child would come. He was going to be a father. An hour ago the thought had filled him with horror, but now as he strode forward, the leafy boughs of summer overhead, he felt a kind of wonder.
He had not wanted a baby, but perhaps having one would not be so bad. He pictured a small infant tight in its mother’s arms – in Marguerite’s arms – and actually felt warmth begin deep within his chest. His wife would be a wonderful mother, there was no doubt of that. He had seen her