Page 86 of The Soldier
“I don’t know yet,” she said in a small, miserable voice.
Well, that must be it. She was on tenterhooks waiting to see if their night of passion had ruined all her plans.
“You’ll know soon?” he asked, hesitantly patting her hand only to see her glance down at his fingers with dismay.
“A day or two. If I’m not, I will tell you.”
“We wait, then,” he said, rising but frowning down at her. “If there is a child, the banns should be cried immediately.”
“I doubt Bothwell will want a wife pregnant with another’s child,” Emmie said, rising, as well. “He does have a title to consider.”
“Emmaline Farnum, for God’s sake.If you carry my child, you will marrymeand no other. How could you think I’d let my child be a cuckoo in Bothwell’s nest?”
“I’m sorry.” She glanced down, not meeting his gaze. “I didn’t think that… I just…”
“It’s all right,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “When we know what our situation is, we’ll go from there. Get some sleep.”
She left the room without meeting his eyes.
Could she do that, Emmie wondered as she stumbled off to her room? If she carried St. Just’s child, could she condemn him to a lifetime of marriage to a woman who would never make a creditable countess? A woman no longer pure of body or heart? She’d have to tell him the truth first, but in his mind, the only truth would be that his child not be born to bastardy.
God Almighty, she thought as she prepared for bed, how could she have been this shortsighted, this selfish, thissimpleminded, to take advantage of St. Just’s generous and lusty nature without any thought to the consequences for them both?
And for Winnie.
She drifted off to sleep, wondering how much worse things could get before the weight on her heart began to lift.
In the morning, she found she was not expecting a child, and for all the contradictions and complications it implied, the weight on her heart doubled.
***
“Wee Winnie.” St. Just hoisted the child onto his lap where he sat at his desk in the library. “There was something I wanted to ask you concerning a discussion you had with Lord Val.”
Winnie’s brow knit. “If he told me a secret, I won’t tell you.” She scooted around, settling with her head pillowed on his chest.
“I won’t ask you to tell secrets. This had to do with asking if you wanted to move to Cumbria with Emmie.”
“I don’t,” Winnie said with perfect equanimity.
“Why not?” St. Just inquired in the same pleasant tones.
“It’s complicated,” Winnie said warningly, “but it goes like this: If I am here, then Emmie might come home if she’s unhappy in Cumbria. If I am there, then Emmie will stay in Cumbria and try to make me happy there. Besides, Emmie went away before.”
“What do you mean?” St. Just asked, smoothing a hand over Winnie’s blond curls. When had the child’s hair gotten so long? It was almost to her shoulders, almost long enough to pull into two pigtails if not quite braids.
“My mama told me Emmie lived with us when I was very little, but then Emmie went away to Scotland. When she came back again to care for the old earl, she lived in her own house. Emmie went away to school before I was born, too.”
“You didn’t expect her to stay here, then?”
“I hoped she would. But you won’t go away.”
“I already have,” he countered. “I went away to Morelands.”
“That was just a visit, to see your mama and papa and to meet Rose. That wasn’t goingawayaway. You live here now, and you’ll stay.”
“Why will I stay when Emmie, who was raised here, will not?”
“She’s a girl,” Winnie said patiently. “She will marry Vicar and go away. You are not a girl, and besides, you were in the army for a long time.”
