Page 90 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
“No, thank you. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I just need to rest.”
Daisy didn’t look convinced, but she left to spread the news and fetch breakfast.
Emma closed her eyes. The image of Violet and Vaughan illuminated by the candlelight, their hands clasped, sprang straight to her mind. She cursed. This wasn’t a good time to have been born with a vivid imagination.
Her heart throbbed. If someone had taken a knife to it, she didn’t think the organ would hurt this much.
Obviously, she cared more deeply for her husband than she’d thought. She’d known she admired him, but this went further than that. In hindsight, she should have realized it would. How was she to resist aman so thoughtful and intelligent?
Especially when he’d sat faithfully by her side during her illness?
She just needed to get into her head what she should have known all along. What shehadknown all along but did her best to ignore.
She wasn’t the Carlisle sister Vaughan wanted. She was just his second choice.
Her cheeks were damp, and when she raised her hand to them, she realized she was crying. She rolled onto her side and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in a comforting embrace.
A sob wracked her body, and then another. When she heard footsteps in the hall, she sniffled, wiped her eyes, and forced herself to put on a good face. Never mind that Daisy would be able to see she’d been crying. She wouldn’t push for reasons.
Daisy entered briskly and carried a tray to the bed. Emma sat up, and Daisy passed her the tray, which Emma placed on her lap.
“Thank you,” Emma said.
“Is there anything else you need?” Daisy asked, worry marring her brow.
“Not for now.”
Daisy excused herself.
Emma poured a small cup of tea and sat the teapot and the teacup on the nightstand. She glanced at the tray, which held a plate of buttered toast with a dollop of jam on the side. She spread the jam on the toast and took a bite.
The toast was dry as dust in her mouth, and she had to chew for ages before she was able to swallow. Disappointed, she pushed it aside and sipped her tea to wash it down.
When she’d emptied the teapot, she rang for Daisy to collect the tray, and then she found the copy ofMansfield Parkshe’d been reading and picked up where she’d left off.
Soon after, there was a knock at the door. Expecting it to be Daisy, she called out for her to enter, only to bolt upright when it was Vaughan who appeared at the end of her bed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, gazing down at her.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, caught off guard.
“I don’t feel well,” she said when she came to her senses.
He frowned. “So Daisy said. Specifically, what seems to be the matter?”
“Um.” She blinked up at him. She hadn’t expected to have to answer that question, so she didn’t have a good response prepared.
“Do you think you might be with child?” he asked. “I’ve heard women often feel ill during their confinement.”
She fought the urge to bury her face in her hands and groan. Lord, why had she not considered he might think that? She didn’t want to get his hopes up for no reason.
“It’s too soon to know for sure,” she said.
“Hmm.” His lips pressed together. “Are you nauseous?”
“A little.” She glanced at the door as if it might offer up suggestions on how she could escape this conversation.
He rounded the bed and touched her forehead. “You aren’t as hot as you were when you had the fever.”
