Bound By One Scandalous Night. Diane Gaston

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СКАЧАТЬ raised her blue eyes to his for a moment but quickly averted them again. ‘I am well enough, I suppose.’

      She appeared altered, though, not full of sparkle and happiness like when he first met her in Brussels. She was different than when he’d made love to her, as well. She seemed...worried.

      In the dining room she was seated next to him, and he was aware the entire time of her closeness. He found himself wanting to see the expressions on her face to gauge how she was feeling.

      There were so many questions he wished to ask her. Was she ill? Was she still affected by Fowler’s behaviour in Brussels? Did she ever think of the night they’d spent together? If so, did she remember it as he did? As a transforming experience? Or did she feel regret, remorse, or worst of all, shame? Should he have left her at the hotel door?

      He hardly attended to the conversation at the table, hardly knew what he’d said to anyone. He’d talked about his investments, his plans to travel to wherever a fortune could be made. He and Glenville debated what countries that might be and also what the end of the war might mean to the economies of Britain, France and the rest of the Continent. If only he could remember what they concluded. A part of his mind had fixed on Amelie and would not let go.

      * * *

      Amelie made a show of eating, although she mostly pushed food around her plate. She’d not had an appetite of late. Would he notice?

      She’d forgotten how handsome he was. Out of uniform in a beautifully tailored coat and trousers that showed his muscular legs, he was an impressive sight.

      Was he glad to see her? She could not tell. There was no way to talk to him alone, and she dared not reveal that she knew him a great deal better than Marc or Tess could ever imagine. Perhaps his reticence to even look at her was to help keep their secret. She hoped so. She hoped it was not that he disliked encountering her again.

      * * *

      After dinner he and Marc did not linger over brandy. Instead they all returned to the drawing room for more conversation.

      She’d thought she might never see Edmund again, thought he’d return to the army and be sent somewhere far away, but here he was and now she needed to make a decision. To speak to him now, to tell him of her—situation—or to have him find out later, perhaps in a letter from Tess.

      It had bothered her greatly that he would find out after the fact and not hear it from her own lips.

      He was here now, though. This might be her only chance.

      But how to speak to him alone?

      She could not think of any excuse to do so. He seemed not to pay her much mind, so would likely miss any hint she could try to send him to let him know she wanted to see him alone, with no one around. Just her and Edmund.

      Eventually she excused herself, saying she was going to bed. Instead she put on her cloak and sneaked outside. She’d stand in the chilly September air until he walked out the door.

      She waited in the stairs that led from the street to the servants’ entrance, hoping none of them opened the door and caught her there. The wind and damp seemed to find their way to her hiding place, making the minutes ticking by move even more slowly. How easy it would be to simply turn around and re-enter the house and tell herself she’d tried. He might stay for hours, might he not? Could she wait so long? Her feet, still in her dinner slippers, felt like ice, and her ungloved fingers trembled as they sought warmth in the recesses of her cloak. How long had it been? She tried to listen for the chiming of clocks, but all she could hear was the wind, an occasional carriage rumbling by or the chattering of her teeth.

      Finally she heard the front door open, and she emerged from her hiding place, stepping into the light cast by the rush lamps.

      He turned at the sound of her footsteps. ‘Amelie! What are you doing out here?’

      ‘I—I wanted to see you alone,’ she managed.

      He took hold of her arm and walked her back into the darkness. ‘Tell me truthfully, Amelie. How do you fare? Your brother said you were not doing well. Are you ill?’

      ‘I’m not ill,’ she said.

      ‘Do not tell me you are still affected by Fowler.’

      She almost laughed. ‘Certainly not.’

      ‘Then is it what transpired between us?’ He sounded distressed. ‘If so, I am so sincerely sorry—’

      ‘It is not that,’ she broke in. ‘At least not precisely.’

      ‘You must not allow that night to change you. You are still beautiful. More beautiful, in fact. There is no reason you cannot marry—’

      She cut him off again. ‘There is a reason, Edmund! A very important reason. That is why I contrived to see you alone. There is something I must tell you.’

      ‘What is it?’ His voice was tense. She could not clearly see his face.

      Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. She took a deep breath and said words she’d never until this moment spoken aloud.

      ‘I am going to have a baby.’

       Chapter Five

      The air was knocked out of Edmund’s chest.

      A baby.

      He knew efforts to prevent a baby were anything but reliable, but he’d ignored that. He’d allowed his passion to overtake him.

      ‘You might wish to ask if the child is yours,’ she said stiffly. ‘I assure you it is. And I am certain I am carrying a child. I have not had my courses since—since that night. I am sick every morning, fatigued all day, and I feel...altered. No one knows. Of course, they will discover it soon enough.’

      ‘A baby,’ he whispered.

      She lifted her chin. ‘Do not fear. No one knows of our meeting that night, and I will say nothing. You will be safe from blame. I am perfectly aware I was the cause of this.’

      ‘No.’ He knew who was to blame.

      She took a breath. ‘Well. There it is. That is why I wanted to see you alone.’

      She turned to leave, but he seized her arm. ‘Do not tell me such a thing and then leave.’

      ‘There is no more to say,’ she told him. ‘I ask nothing of you.’

      ‘Nothing of me?’ he repeated. She wanted him to have no part of it?

      Her eyes flashed. ‘I’ll not get rid of it, if that is what you are about to say.’

      He still gripped her arm. ‘I was not about to say that.’ He was about to ask her why she wanted him to have no part in a child they created together, why she did not see what they must do, even if she disliked it.

      ‘I do not yet know what I will do,’ she went on. ‘Perhaps my parents will send me to France. I have СКАЧАТЬ