Page 105 of Duke of Iron
“That is not what June says,” May muttered, thinking of her sister’s melodramatic tales of childbirth as told by the mothers of theton.
Dorothy dismissed this with a wave. “June is a disaster. She will faint at the first twinge and wake up with a baby in her arms, never knowing how it happened.” She fixed May with a look so piercing that May shrank inside her own skin. “Now, will you tell your husband?”
May’s mouth went dry. “I… not yet. I want to be sure. And I do not want to… raise his hopes for nothing.”
Dorothy’s brow creased. “He wishes for children, does he not?”
The lie almost came, but May choked on it. “He said… he did not expect them. He is content with things as they are.”
Dorothy considered this, lips pursed. “Well. Men say a great many things. Especially when they wish to appear heroic or detached. I remember your father declaring he would never be domesticated. He cried when August was born, and faintedwhen April, you, and June followed. Now he claims he fathered an army by sheer force of will.”
May almost laughed. It helped a little.
Dorothy took her hand. “You are strong, May. Stronger than you know. You will do splendidly.”
“Does it always hurt? Not just the birth, but… afterwards. The loving of it.”
Dorothy sighed, all the bluster gone from her now. “It is the best pain there is. You give your whole self, and if you are lucky, the world gives back.” She squeezed May’s fingers, hard enough to leave a mark. “I am here, darling. You are never alone.”
But May felt alone in a way she had never been before. The truth was a stone in her stomach, and she could not bring herself to tell it. She could not say, he does not want this, and he does not want me, not truly.
Thirty-Three
“Iam sorry, but I have done something most alarming.”May shook her head. No, too dramatic, Logan might get angry before hearing the news.
She had spent half the morning in pitched combat with her own hands. She twisted her right thumb until the flesh was red; she knotted her fingers together behind her back, then front, then tucked them under her arms as if pinning herself in place might stop the trembling. It did not.
Three times she approached Logan’s study, and three times she retreated, defeated by the sight of the closed door, the muffled scrape of a chair within, the sound of her own heart pounding.
If she were less cowardly, she might have feigned a letter or spilled ink on the rug—anything to prompt Logan to come out, to meet her on a more neutral field. Instead, she lingered in the hallway, rehearsing phrases in her mind and hating each one.
“You must not be angry.”This sounded worse.“It is possible I have made a small error, biologically speaking, in the matter of…”Absolutely not.
The clock on the stairs struck noon with the finality of a judge’s gavel. May bit her lip and resolved that this would be the last attempt, or she would die and be rid of the business altogether.
She rapped at the study door. A moment later, Logan’s voice called out. “Come in.”
She entered, bracing herself. He looked up, his steely eyes sharp and clear, as if he’d been waiting for her all along. May drew a breath and closed the door behind her.
He gestured at the visitor’s chair. “Have a seat.”
“I will stand,” she said, although her knees doubted the wisdom.
He regarded her over the steeple of his fingers. “Has a foreign power declared war? Or have you simply lost another of Rydal’s socks?”
She ignored the taunt, launching directly into her prepared speech. “I am not ill, nor have I lost anything significant, although the day is young.”
Logan sat back, the lines at the corner of his mouth tightening. “That is a relief, but also a shame. I had hoped for an interesting story.”
She pressed on, refusing to let herself falter. “I have a matter to confess, and it is not a small one. I should rather tell you at once.”
He nodded. “Go on.”
May swallowed, hard. “It concerns my person. My body, specifically. I have… that is, my courses—” She stopped, the words congealing in her mouth.
Logan arched an eyebrow. “Your courses?”
May nodded, feeling her cheeks flame. “They have failed to appear. For more than a week.”
