Page 35 of The Scottish Duke
Other than Nan, it was the first time anyone had been kind to her for months.
Of course she wanted to weep. The day had been eventful and horrid.
Alex was trying to marshal his thoughts into some semblance of order.
He hadn’t expected to see Lorna standing there, proud in her thin coat, facing the weight of the village’s disapproval. The bulge of her stomach was obvious to a blind man. So, too, her defiance. She’d stood there alone, facing the reverend with more courage than he’d ever seen.
She was beautiful in a way he’d never before considered. In a way that was elemental and spoke to the continuation of the species.
The night of the ball he’d expected her to be experienced, not virginal. And now? Hardly virginal, but delicate, almost innocent, with her red cheeks, her warm brown eyes, and a mouth that smiled slightly while hinting at delicious kisses.
She’d been amply endowed before. He could still recall the shape of her breasts in his hands. But carrying a child had added to them, until they pressed against her bodice. He wanted, in an impulsive way quite unlike him, to reach out and press his hands against them to measure their weight. No doubt she’d slap him if he dared do something like that.
He knew, without asking, that she would nurse her child. Ruth would not have, and had already hired a wet nurse, the woman ready to be summoned after the delivery.
He settled back against the seat, allowing himself to open the door to thoughts of those days three years ago. Nothing beyond the conception of the child had involved him. He’d been informed of what would happen, but he’d never been consulted. Men weren’t, he’d been told. His opinion hadn’t been sought, either.
It was as if the birth of his heir didn’t concern him one whit.
Perhaps it hadn’t at that point. His emotional estrangement from Ruth had led to a physical separation. He’d spent more and more time in Edinburgh, until he’d finally come home three weeks before the baby was expected. However, he’d used his own initiative and hired a doctor. A useless precaution, as it turned out.
The birth had been difficult from the beginning. He knew something was wrong when the midwife had requested his mother be in attendance and she, in turn, had sought out the physician he brought with him.
Two people trained in the art of birth attended Ruth, yet they couldn’t save her. At first it had seemed the child might survive, but that wasn’t to be, either. He’d been a little boy with a perfect porcelain face who appeared to be sleeping. His mother had held his child and rocked him for a few moments, tears falling down her face.
He’d walked out of the room without speaking to anyone.
Now he was faced with the same god-awful situation.
Why hadn’t Lorna protected herself? Why hadn’t he? Why had he allowed lust to overwhelm him when he’d never done so before?
It was her, of course.
Even now the attraction was evident. He shouldn’t be lusting for a woman so far gone with child. But it was his child. That shouldn’t have aroused him, either.
What was the word? Gravid? He’d never considered it before, but it meant full, didn’t it? She’d been empty and now she was full. He’d done that.
Perhaps it was something merely biological between them. A random act that had been ordained because she was female and he was male. He knew he’d never done anything so precipitous. Nor had he ever wanted another woman the way he’d wanted her. Enough that he hadn’t bedded anyone since.
She was going to have his child.
Fate couldn’t have picked a more confusing woman than Lorna Gordon. First she was a mystery, then a ghost. She’d been a maid, yet she was filled with pride. He’d expected her to be greedy, but she’d banished him from her room.
They were strangers who’d had an intimate encounter, one resulting in a child.
At Blackhall he would ensure she had whatever she needed. Once she was there, perhaps this fascination she held for him would ease. He would be able to return to his work without images of her appearing before him.
He’d summon a new doctor, someone with more expertise in birth, and keep him at Blackhall until she delivered. He’d install a different, more competent midwife. He’d check in on Lorna every day. He’d know what was happening, unlike before.
There, a plan, and one he would implement immediately.
“What were you doing there? Did Reverend McGill send for you?”
“Send for me? No. I wouldn’t have come even if the reverend had dared to summon me.”
“Then what were you doing in Wittan?”
“I am willing to concede that the child you are carrying is mine.”
