Page 89 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
She froze in surprise. “Sorry?”
“Yes. I should not have said those things to you. I was a fool. A fool who made assumptions and acted on them.”
She frowned in puzzlement. “What assumptions?”
His head dipped; cheeks stained red with what looked like embarrassment. “I assumed that you did not want me. That you would stay married to me from pity — and I couldn’t stand that. I was resolved to let you go, regardless of how I felt about it. But I realize now that deciding for you what you felt was wrong. So, I am sorry.”
Freya blinked at him, nonplussed. “Is that so? So, when you said that I should go and have a child with someone else, you did not mean it?”
“God, no! The thought of you with another man makes me want to tear this world apart — to tear that hypothetical man apart.”
Freya sighed softly. “So then why did you tell me to do it?”
“I know how much you wanted to keep the house. I thought it might be a solution.”
“So why not offer to give me a child yourself?”
Eric just lowered his head further.
“Oh Eric,” Freya said in realization before she reached up and cupped his scarred cheek. “Even now?”
He gave a shuddering breath. “I suppose I didn’t understand how much I let my scar take over my identity. It’s all I saw. All I thought I was. And this scar certainly was unworthy of you.”
“You’re so silly,” she said fondly.
He smiled tentatively. “I concede that point.”
She let her hand trail down his shoulder and down his arm until she was palm-to-palm with him. He closed his finger around her hand and squeezed tight.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Forgiving my silliness.”
She gave him a mock frown. “Who said I forgave you?”
* * *
After a thorough examination, the physician declared that Freya was through the worst of her ordeal but was in no way better. “She will require plenty of bed rest and healing tisanes. I have already given your housekeeper a few recipes to try.”
Eric folded his arms and planted his legs as they stood just outside the guest chambers where Freya was currently sleeping.
“Can she be moved to her bedchambers?”
“Of course. Once she has rested, you will even be able to travel if you so wish. I’m sure the country air will do her nothing but good, Your Grace.”
Eric nodded. “That is a relief. Are you saying you won’t have to oversee her care for the next nine months?”
The physician hesitated as if thinking about it. Eric gave him a cynical glance and waited to hear what he would say.
“I would certainly recommend that she be under a physician’s care for the remainder of her pregnancy whether you choose to stay here or go to the country.”
“And you’re sure the journey will not be too arduous?”
“I assume that your carriage will be luxuriant, and I recommend frequent stops for rest. Should those conditions be met, I see no reason why she cannot travel in a day or two.”
Eric smiled and nodded, appreciating the man’s honesty. “Very well. I shall consult with the Duchess, and we will decide how to proceed. Your care of her is much appreciated,” Eric said as he handed the physician a pouch of money.
