Page 78 of The Artist
“So?” My head felt like it was splitting in two as I stared at her.
“I’m pregnant and no matter what anyone says, I’m keeping the baby.”
“You’re pregnant?” I felt like my legs wouldn’t carry me and slammed a hand to the wall for support.
Belle misunderstood and jerked her head back just as the door opened and Doctor White came out. “Hey, Mason. I thought I heard your voice. From the shocked look on your face I assume that Belle already told you that the urine sample showed she is pregnant. I’m about to run the blood sample, but I’m fairly certain that you’re going to be a father.”
I licked my dry lips and tried to stop my brain from focusing on all the things that had now been added to my list of problems. The French would try to take her and our child away from me, and I couldn’t allow that. I should say something, tell her I was hoping for this; but before I could push my worries aside and focus on the positive, Belle turned and started walking away from me.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Pearl.”
I jogged after her and quickly caught up. “My aunt? Why? Belle, stop for a second. You need to talk to me and not her.”
Stopping abruptly in the long hallway, Belle turned to me. “You’re obviously upset that I’m pregnant and I get that, but I’ve already apologized for not realizing that my pregnancy prevention implant was overdue for replacement. It doesn’t change that I’m not going to let you, Victor, or anyone else decide for me.I’mhaving this baby. She’s mine!”
Before she could walk off again, I closed her in with my hands against the wall on either side of her shoulders. “How do you know it’s a girl?”
“I don’t. It’s just a bunch.”
“A bunch?”
“Yes, you know, a feeling I have.”
“Oh, you mean a hunch.”
“Oui.”
“Boy or girl, this isourchild, Belle. Not yours or mine alone. It’sours.” I spoke with a stern tone because I needed her to understand. “And now that you’re carrying our child, you’ll marry me.”
Belle stood for a second as if waiting for me to say something more when all I wanted was for her to say yes.
Instead she rolled her eyes, ducked under my arm, and walked off with a long sentence in French that sounded like a complaint.
“By Lucifer’s ass, Belle, will you stop walking away from me? I need you to tell me that you’ll marry me.”
This time she looked angry when she turned and pointed a finger in my direction. “I have read enough romance novels to know that a man doesn’ttella woman that she’s marrying him. He asks, and not only does he ask, but he tells her marrying her would make him the happiest man in the world. You don’t look happy and I will not marry anyone who does it out of a sense of duty.”
I squinted in confusion. Never had Belle shown this much temper and she clearly misunderstood my intentions. “What are you talking about? This has nothing to do with duty. I was hoping you were pregnant because I want to be with you.”
She walked back toward me with blazing eyes. “Liar. You want the child. If you wanted to be withme, you would have asked me to marry you yesterday or last year, but you didn’t.”
“That’s not fair. Things were complicated, but now everyone will understand.”
Belle’s voice was shaking when she lowered her brow and pushed the words out. “I know that it means everything for you to be close to your child and I want that too. I don’t know how you will convince my government to let me go, but if you can, I will stay here and take care of my baby.” She closed her eyes for a second before opening them and correcting herself, “I meanourbaby.”
“You’ll stay?”
“Yes. For now.”
“Good. Then we should go and tell Victor together.”
We began walking side by side when I reached for her hand. “You got it wrong, you know.”
She released my hand and turned her head to look up at me. “About you marrying me out of a sense of duty?”
“Yes. I told you I’ve liked you for a long time.”
