Page 69 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

Lucien’s stride faltered and his blood turned icy, then he quickened his step.

‘Lucien?’ It was Josephine, stepping out from the drawing room, her eyebrows raised.

‘Aurélie’s unwell,’ he said without stopping. ‘Ring the hospital. Tell them we’re coming. It may be a miscarriage.’ His voice cracked.

‘An ambulance,’ Aurélie whispered, her breath warm and strangely reassuring against his throat. Nothing bad was going to happen to her. He wouldn’t let it.

‘It’s not far and my car’s outside. We’ll be there in the time it’d take them to reach us.’

And they were. Fortunately his aunt lived on the side of the city closest to the hospital. As he pulled to a stop at the entrance, emergency staff appeared and within moments Aurélie was being taken inside.

After that events became a blur. Later, all Lucien could remember was the stark fear on Aurélie’s face and the need to appear calm, for her sake. Inside he was a wreck. He couldn’t believe this was happening. They might lose the baby. Was Aurélie herself safe?

Guilt scorched him. Had this happened because they’d had sex tonight? He hadn’t been gentle. He’d been desperate to possess her. Or maybe it was the stress she was under, plus him taking her to the party. Maybe if she’d rested at home instead... Regrets lay heavy on his conscience.

He spoke to staff who were so composed he wanted to rage at them for not taking this emergency seriously. For itwasan emergency. Bright blood stained Aurélie’s dress and her pain was terrible to watch. Lucien did what he could, held her hand, reassured, answered the staff’s questions when she wasn’t up to it.

There were murmured consultations, tests, more tests, more questions.

Finally, in the early hours, they were alone. Senior staff had been and gone. They’d been grave and couldn’t give firm assurances. What they did say, what Lucien clung to, was that Aurélie hadn’t miscarried.

Yet.

He swallowed, pain searing his dry throat, and blinked to clear his vision.

‘You should go home and get some rest.’ Aurélie sounded wrung out.

‘I’ll stay with you.’ Somehow he conjured a smile, pretending that her strained face, as white as her hospital gown, didn’t terrify him.

‘You need rest too. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?’ Her mouth trembled and she swallowed. She looked so pitiful his heart wrung. ‘If you go, I’ll try to sleep too.’

‘Good idea. I’ll settle in the corner so I don’t disturb you.’

But she shook her head. ‘Please, Lucien. I need to be alone for a little while.’ Something must have showed on his face because she hurried on. ‘You’ve been marvellous. But I need...space. They’ll call you if there’s any change.’

She looked so horribly vulnerable. How could he deny her? Finally he nodded.

He leaned over and brushed his mouth against hers, taking heart from the way her lips clung.

‘Call me any time. I’ll have my phone on.’

Reluctantly he straightened. He had no intention of leaving the hospital but he’d respect her desire for space. Though it felt totally wrong leaving her.

As he reached the door she spoke. ‘If the worst happens. If I lose the baby...’ He swung around to see her lips form a crooked line of distress. ‘There’ll be no need to marry.’ Her gaze skittered away. ‘I’ll go straight home to France.’

Her words tore through him like a grenade through unprotected flesh. Shockwaves ricocheted across his bones. His belly hollowed then filled with bone-freezing ice. How could she eventhink...?

Lucien was halfway back to the bed when her upraised hand stopped him.

‘Please, don’t argue. Not now.’

Lucien stared down into taut features. Saw the rapid rise of her breasts, the clenched-knuckled grip on her sheet.

Everything urged him to protest, persuade, demand. She couldn’t go back to France. He wouldn’t allow it.

But she was growing more distressed the longer he stood there. And distress couldn’t be good for her or the baby. Lucien breathed deep, nostrils flaring. It shouldn’t be possible to detect her floral scent over the antiseptic hospital smell yet it was there. Teasing him with all he stood to lose.

It felt as if someone had plucked his still beating heart halfway out of his ribcage. It thundered high in his throat and his skin felt clammy. His hands clenched but he resisted the urge to reach for her.

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