Page 93 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“But…we’ll be late starting out.”
Eric looked eloquently at William and Isabella, still chasing each other about, and his mother was nowhere to be seen. “Nobody else seems anxious to leave right this minute. Come, it takes two hours to get to our first stop for the night, and it's barely noon now. We have time.”
“Are you sure?” she asked with a frown.
“Yes, please come with me.”
He led her firmly but gently toward the dining room and presented her with a plate of dried toast and a cup of ginger tea. Beside her food was a large bowl. Freya pointed at it. “What’s this for?”
“Oh, that is in case you feel nauseous.” Mrs. Burberry stepped forward, and that was when Eric noticed she was there.
Freya blushed with embarrassment, giving Eric a sidelong glance. “Would you like me to leave?” he asked immediately though it pained him.
Slowly, reluctantly, she shook her head and then laughed softly. “I’m being silly. I suppose I did not want you to see me like that.”
“Like what? Sharing your body with my child? I cannot imagine anything more beautiful.”
She snorted derisively. “It can get quite messy, I do assure you.”
“I am no stranger to messy things.” He touched the scar on his face. “I do assure you.”
The smile fell off her face, and she put her hand on top of his. “I apologize. I must seem so shallow to you.”
“Nonsense. We are both novices at this. We are feeling our way along in the dark. We must give ourselves and each other enough grace to make mistakes.”
She beamed at him. “You’re right. Please sit with me. Eat with me. Tell me something about you. Tell me of your time in the navy.”
Eric sat down with a sigh, casting about in his mind for any story that might not end gruesomely. He hoped to find something entertaining so that she could forget her discomfort.
“Oh! I have just the story. When I was just a new recruit…”
* * *
Freya fidgeted in her seat, feeling a sharp pain in the small of her back. It had been growing steadily for what felt like the last hour, but she hadn’t wanted to say anything. Eric had said that the stop was two hours away; surely, it could not be that far. She tried to focus on her book, but Dracula still was not commanding her attention.
Opposite her, Mama Campbell was knitting something. She seemed very focused on her task, and Freya did not want to disturb her. Eric had opted to ride a horse to give her more room should she need it, but she did not think that lying down would help.
“Is anything the matter?” Mrs. Campbell asked without looking up from her knitting.
Freya jumped. “I…well, I suppose I’m a little stiff and sore.”
Mrs. Campbell grabbed her stick and hit the roof of the carriage.
“Yes ma’am?” the coachman called.
“We need to stop!” she said.
“Oh no, no, no, Mama. I’m fine —”
“Well,Iam not. I need to stretch out. I trust you’ll join me?”
Freya found that she was close to tears. Everyone was just so considerate it was making her emotional. The carriage stopped, and she and her mother-in-law stepped out. Mama Campbell took her hand, and they strolled in the tall grass for some way before stopping to relieve themselves.
“Better?” Mama Campbell asked.
Freya nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
They strolled back to find Eric waiting anxiously. “Everything all right?”
