Page 53 of Everything But the Earl
“Then come to bed and let’s make the most of it.”
Lark nipped at Anthony’s lower lip. “All right.”
*
In all, Pennyand the Hastings ladies stayed for two weeks, and though Grace was sad to see them go—especially Penny—she was grateful for the silence and solitude she gained in their absence. Plus, she was itching to return to her pottery.
She was, however, beginning to feel like she’d kept an illness at bay through sheer force of will. Once her guests were gone, she’d spent more time vomiting than she cared to admit to anyone, although the household staff of course knew something was wrong. Grace talked them out of calling a doctor because she didn’t think it was that serious. She just needed whatever it was to work its way through her body.
Still, when she resumed her pottery lessons with Catrin Davies, Catrin seemed to notice right away that something was off. “You look too pale, my dear.”
“I’m all right.”
“No, something is off with your coloring.”
Grace sighed. “Should I be offended?”
“I’m merely making an observation.” Catrin looked her over slowly. “You are ill.”
“I lost my accounts this morning,” Grace said. “It doesn’t feel like anything serious. I’ve just felt a bit unsettled for the last couple of weeks. I thought at first it was something I ate, but perhaps it is a mild illness. Nothing rest won’t cure.”
“You’ve been ill for a fortnight and have not seen a doctor?” Catrin narrowed her gaze at Grace, and then something seemed to light up behind her eyes. “Oh,” she said.
“What?”
“When was the last time you saw your husband?”
Grace didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but she said, “About three months ago, I’d guess.”
“That timing makes sense.”
“What timing?”
“Do you truly not know?”
Grace just stared at Catrin, not understanding what Catrin was saying.
“I have two children,” Catrin said.
Grace already knew that. Catrin talked about her children—a boy and a girl—all the time. She still didn’t see what Catrin was getting at, unless…
“I went through the exact same thing with both of them. Right around the third month. When was the last time you had your courses?”
“Oh, it must have been…” But Grace slowly realized they hadn’t come at all since she’d been in Wales. She hadn’t really given it much thought. Her courses had always been irregular, skipping a month here or there was not unusual, but it truly had been three months since her wedding.
She clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Before your wedding?” Catrin supplied.
“But it can’t… how can it…”
“You’re tired all the time. Sometimes weird smells make you feel like you need to toss up everything you’ve eaten that day. You’ve gained a little weight, and not just from our fine Welsh cuisine.”
“Yes, but—”
“You, my dear, may be increasing.”
Just then, a wave of nausea hit Grace. She excused herself and ran into the back garden.
