Page 79 of Taken By the Icy Duke

Her cheeks flamed at the word ‘condition’. This was not how she imagined announcing her pregnancy to him; revealed in the harsh light of public scrutiny. She clenched her hands with fresh humiliation. “I did not want it to happen this way,” she said in a trembling voice. “I did not want you to learn of it from some stranger’s pronouncement. I am sorry.”

Gilbert gently laid his hand on hers. “I know,” he said softly. “But do not speak further of it here. Let us first get you settled.”

She nodded, trying to swallow back her sobs. The carriage ride felt both endless and too swift. She dreaded the conversation, yet she longed for it, hoping there was still room for him to accept the life she carried. She remembered how firmly he had once declared he would never father an heir. The memory made her chest clench with apprehension.

He pressed his lips into a tense line, then lifted his hand from hers.

“You must know—” he began, but cut himself off, glancing at the coachman’s shadow through the window. “Later,” he murmured, almost to himself.

She caught the faint tremor in his exhalation. “Gilbert,” she said softly, tears threatening again, “I wish… you do not hate me?”

“I could never hate you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Please, rest. Save your strength. I promise we will talk.”

Silence fell again, the only sounds the clatter of wheels and the occasional jolt along the uneven road. Her mind spun wildly. Would he resent her for conceiving a child he had sworn never to have? Would he recoil from her once they were behind closed doors? She wrapped the shawl around herself more tightly to protect her trembling heart.

They fell quiet as the carriage bumped over the final stretch of road. When they reached the gates of Rivenhall House, Diana glanced outside, spotting the warm lamplight in the windows. Servants waited under the portico, concern plain on their faces. Gilbert climbed down first, then offered his arm to help her. She clung to him, her legs wobbly from fatigue and stress.

Inside, footmen hovered, but Gilbert waved them off. “We need no assistance beyond privacy,” he said, guiding Diana toward the stairs. “Clear the corridors if you will.”

She leaned on him, her heart pounding with a mix of dread and a strange, tentative relief. “Thank you,” she whispered, nearly stumbling on the first step. “I cannot pretend to have much strength left.”

He supported her gently, his voice quiet. “Lean on me.”

They climbed in heavy silence, and she felt the weight of his worry each time he glanced at her. By the time they reached her bedchamber, she was shaking from exhaustion. He opened thedoor, ushering her inside. The soft glow of a single lamp revealed the familiar sanctuary of her room.

“Lie down,” he instructed, his hands hovering as though ready to catch her if she fell. “You need not undress if it tires you. Just rest. I will have someone bring water and a cool cloth.”

She obeyed, leaning back against the pillows with an exhausted sigh. He reached for the laces at the edges of her gown, loosening them gently so she could breathe more easily. The hush in the room stretched like a vast chasm. Eventually, she pressed a hand to her chest, tears glinting in her eyes.

“I am so sorry,” she said sadly. “I never meant to keep it from you forever, but I feared?—”

He stood at her bedside, his eyes cloudy with conflicting emotions. “But you felt compelled to hide it from me,” he said with anguish. “Because of my vow.”

She nodded as tears began to run down her face. “Yes, I did. I was terrified you would resent me or blame me for… breaking your promise to never have children,” she whispered. “I feared you would cast me aside. Cast our child aside.”

He let out a trembling exhale. “I see,” he said, sinking onto the mattress beside her.

“I can only imagine how frightened you must have been, collapsing in front of everyone, and unable to say anything. Themoment the physician said you were with child, I felt—shock, yes, and fear—but also relief.” His eyes glimmered with tears he did not bother to hide. “Relief that you are not wasting away from some unknown ailment. Relief that… we created a life.”

She stared at him, her heart filling with fragile hope. “But… your vow,” she whispered, as her tears continued falling.

“That vow came from losing my sister and father in that carriage accident,” he said unevenly. “I convinced myself I would fail any child I fathered. I never wanted to risk it. Yet, when I saw you faint and heard the physician’s words, I realized I did not feel the horror I once imagined. It resurrected the hope I had buried.”

She let out a soft sob, clutching his hand. “Gilbert,” she said, shaking with emotion. “I truly believed you would never accept this. I thought your vow unbreakable.”

He pressed his palm to her cheek, a hesitant gesture of solace. “I once believed it too,” he said, his countenance overflowing with remorse and tenderness. “But the reality of you lying faint in my arms forced me to accept how much I care. Diana, I love you. I do not want to lose you, or the child you carry.Ourchild.”

She inhaled a ragged breath, letting the relief crash over her in waves.

“You truly mean it?” she managed. “You will not turn away?”

He gathered her close, his arms trembling from the force of his relief. “I will not,” he said, his voice raw with conviction. “I am terrified, and I will not lie about that. But I love you, and if our child exists, then I must face my old fears rather than condemn us. I cannot lose my family again.”

She buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed, her shoulders heaving with unchecked relief at his sincerity and acceptance. The circle of his arms felt like a lifebuoy rescuing her from a squally sea.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “I wanted so much for you to accept this baby, but I never dared hope.”

He stroked her hair lovingly. “I was slow to realize. Please, trust me enough to let me try. I promise I will never shut you out again.”

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