Page 64 of The Unforgiven
Quinn looked around, desperate for a more private spot where she wouldn’t be quite so noticeable or feel so vulnerable. She needed a moment to compose herself before going back inside. She didn’t want to ruin the evening for Seth. He’d pulled out all the stops with the party. The food was superb, the music quickened the pulse like a shot of caffeine, and the dozens of guests he had invited were all friends, business associates, and relations of the proud father.
Quinn had had every intention of blending into the background, but Seth had made that impossible. Once theNatchezhad pulled away from the dock and everyone got comfortable and made at least one trip to the open bar, Seth had called for silence and beckoned for Quinn to join him on the small stage set up for the band. He smiled at her warmly and took her hand, as if she were a little girl.
“Good evening, everyone,” Seth had said, beaming like a lighthouse at the assembled guests. “I’m not going to bore you all with long speeches or flowery toasts. I just want to raise a glass tomy beautiful girl, Quinn. I thought I had a pretty good life until this amazing woman walked into it and showed me exactly what I was missing. I thank God that she found me, and I couldn’t be prouder of the daughter I didn’t even know I had. And not only is she beautiful, brilliant, and successful, she’s going to make me a grandfather. I love you, kiddo.”
Seth leaned in and planted a kiss on Quinn’s flaming cheek. She hadn’t told Seth about the pregnancy, but Brett must have spilled the beans after she unwittingly told him her news. It was silly to feel so upset about her personal business being made public when anyone who looked at her closely could probably see the gentle swell of her belly beneath the flowing skirt of her dress, but Quinn felt as if she were standing under a huge spotlight, stark naked in front of all the guests.
Seth downed his champagne and motioned for the waiter to refill his glass. “And a mineral water for the mommy-to-be,” he’d added, noting that Quinn’s glass was empty.
“I just need some air,” Quinn said as she slipped her hand out of Seth’s grasp. Seth looked like he might follow but became distracted by some friends who came to congratulate him.
“Quinn, are you all right?” A voice broke into Quinn’s reverie.
Kathy, Seth’s ex-wife, leaned on the rail next to her, her eyes full of concern. “You looked very flushed in there.”
“Just a little embarrassed, that’s all,” Quinn replied. “I’m not used to parties thrown in my honor.”
“Who is?” Kathy laughed. Her long blond hair moved in the breeze and she wrapped a shawl closer about her shoulders, but her dark eyes never left Quinn’s face. “You were flushed before Seth made the toast. Do you mind?” she asked as she reached for Quinn’s wrist. She stood perfectly still, her head cocked to the side as she took Quinn’s pulse. “Your pulse is very rapid. Has anything been bothering you?”
“I’ve had a headache for the past few days, and my ankles are a bit swollen, but I think that’s just from the humidity. I’m also rather tired,” Quinn admitted.
She’d been on her feet for the past several days with Jason, traipsing all over the plantation and its outbuildings, including the sugar mill, which was within walking distance, but still a trek from the main house, and covering nearly every inch of the French Quarter. They had also spent a day sailing down the bayou in a hired canoe. The boat trip hadn’t been strenuous, but Quinn had felt a growing sense of unease as they drifted deeper into the swamp. When she’d begun to feel oddly claustrophobic, she asked Jason if they could turn around and return to New Orleans.
“How far along are you?” Kathy asked.
“Nearly twenty weeks.”
Kathy nodded. “Are you sleeping?”
“Not well. I’ve had difficulty adjusting to the time change for some reason.”
“Have you felt movement yet?”
“No,” Quinn confessed. She hadn’t meant to crumple in front of Kathy, but sudden tears slid down her cheeks. “I think there might be something wrong,” she wailed. “I can’t feel the baby.”
Kathy wrapped Quinn in a warm hug and patted her back as though she were a colicky baby. “Have you had any spotting or full-on bleeding?”
Quinn shook her head.
“Quinn, I have a friend who’s an obstetrician. Do you mind if I give her a call? There’s no cause for panic, but I’d like her to have a look at you, just as a precaution.”
“All right,” Quinn replied, still sniffling. “I want Gabe,” she said, sounding like a child desperate for the comforting presence of a parent.
“Have you spoken to him?”
“I’ve had a text, but I can’t seem to reach him in person.”
“Nothing to worry about, I’m sure. Just the time difference and all that. Here, let me call Annette.” Kathy made a brief call and turned to Quinn with a reassuring smile. “Annette is on call tonight at the Tulane Medical Center. She’ll meet us there after the party.”
“Maybe we should see her tomorrow,” Quinn suggested.
“I’d rather not wait. Now, let’s go back inside. When did you last eat?”
“I had a few canapés when we first boarded.”
“Let’s get you something to eat, and another mineral water. You must stay hydrated, but don’t drink anything alcoholic. And try to enjoy the party, Quinn,” Kathy said with a smile. “I promise you, if there was any urgency, I’d have Seth turning this boat around and an ambulance standing by. Everything will be all right. Okay?”
“Okay,” Quinn said, feeling marginally better. She was hungry and needed to sit down.
