After what seemed like an endless winter, spring finally came to warm and revive the snow-battered Paris. Patches of bare earth were left behind in the snow, trees had green buds, and green shoots grew up as soon as the ground thawed completely. It was still chilly, but the wind wasn't so sharp and didn't bite one's ears and face. Dawn and Esmeralda began to show the slightest bit of a curve to their bellies and the morning sickness (Thank God) let up considerably. Though Dawn had her moments, Claude was relieved to see that she was in a much better mood. He had a feeling she wouldn't have been quite so angry with him if she hadn't been sick that day…he tried not to think of that. They were getting along now and they had been for the most part (if he sensed a mood swing coming, he simply picked his battles wisely and tried not to make a big deal about it otherwise).
"This has been the four longest months of my life," he sighed one evening.
"I can see that," Jehan said, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "you look as exhausted as she does."
Claude managed a small smile.
"I hope pregnancy isn't contagious," he commented, "because I swear I start feeling sick sometimes when she does."
"Sympathy pangs," Jehan replied, "a lot of men complain about it if they're around their wives all the time. It will pass."
"I hope so."
"Where is Dawn, anyway?"
"Upstairs. She's trying to have the room next to ours turned into the baby's room. I swear she's had everything rearranged at least fifty times…poor Pierre. I'm glad I was busy at the time she started on that project."
Jehan chuckled.
"I believe the old wives refer to that as 'nesting'. This too shall pass."
"I should probably go and make sure she isn't moving anything herself," Claude said, standing, "I know her…and if she thinks she can do it, she will."
Having no other way to pass the time, Jehan followed him.
Some well-wishers from the church had found out that Dawn was pregnant through the grapevine (though some had asked her directly) and brought gifts for the baby. They had received clothes, a cradle, and several other things. It hardly surprised Claude anymore to see Dawn disappearing up the stairs after a service with someone carrying something.
He heard a scraping sound and opened the door. Dawn motioned for the large dresser to be moved a little more to left.
"There. Now it's perfect."
A panting Pierre collapsed onto one of the chairs.
"That's what you said the last five times," he told her.
Dawn turned to see Claude.
"And where have you been?" she asked casually.
"I had confessions to hear."
It was the truth—his last one had just left.
"This late?" Dawn asked.
"Sometimes later," Claude informed her, "if the matter is urgent enough."
If she failed to believe him, she didn't say so. Squishie scratched at Claude's leg asking him to pet her.
"We should probably be going now," Esmeralda said, "we have work to do tomorrow."
"Thank you guys," Dawn said, hugging them both.
After they were gone, she turned to Claude. He was busy looking at the room—the changes she'd made were incredible. It was a room not used very often, but it had been scrubbed clean and some of the brighter-colored tapestries were hanging on the wall to add color. The cradle was in their room for when the baby was the smallest. In here, there was a bed for when the child got old enough to sleep on its own. Everything was bright and warm and clean.
"I see you've found something to do all day," he remarked.
"I had a lot of help," Dawn admitted. She slid into his arms. He held her there for a moment. Even in the dim light, he could see that there was more color in her face now.
She tilted her face up towards his and he took this as a signal to kiss her. For the last few months, she'd been feeling nothing but sick. Now that it wasn't tainting everything, he could feel heat in the kiss and his own body responded more than eagerly. His hands pulled her even closer until there was absolutely no air left between them.
The door suddenly banged open and he reluctantly broke the kiss and turned to look. One of the priests stood there, his face rapidly reddening as he realized he'd intruded.
"Oh…so sorry to bother you, Your Excellency, but we've got trouble downstairs."
Claude backed away from Dawn a couple of inches though he still held her.
"What kind of trouble?" he asked impatiently.
"There's been a break-in. The cook caught someone sneaking out of the kitchen with several armfuls of supplies. The thief got away."
Claude glanced over at Dawn.
"Don't look at me, I was right here," she teased.
"Could it have been someone you know?" he asked, not in a joking mood.
"If it was someone I hung out with, they'd have asked me," she answered, "most all of them know about the garden. And they definitely wouldn't have come this late."
Claude sighed irritably.
"I have an idea. Come on, Squishie."
The little dog jumped off the bed where she had made herself a nest and followed them.
"What are you going to do?" Claude asked.
She impatiently made the "come on" gesture. He followed her, though not understanding.
They reached the kitchen where the irate cook was griping about the missing supplies.
"Squishie, get a scent," Dawn instructed the dog. The cook stared at Dawn incredulously as if she'd lost her mind, but she didn't say anything. The little wheat-colored dog appeared to be tracing the thief's path. After a moment, a sketchy image formed in Dawn's mind. It was devoid of color or particular features, but Dawn could jut make out enough to matter.
"It's a girl," Dawn said, eyes closed, "about sixteen or seventeen…very, very pregnant, as in due any day now. She hasn't had a bath recently and Squishie couldn't smell a man's scent, so she's alone."
The cook frowned.
Claude stared. He had seen women in the later stages of pregnancy—how had she moved so fast?
"If she's a street girl, that explains a lot," Dawn said, answering his mental question, "she's used to having to do stuff this way. I think we should post a guard around the kitchen."
"Why?" Claude asked. It made more sense to merely bar the doors.
"We want to catch her," Dawn told him, "she may genuinely need help. We won't have her arrested or anything…we'll just let her know that she needs to ask for things. I've seen single women trying to raise kids on their own and it's Hell when you don't have help. I was almost afraid I'd end up one of them for a while…"
He knew she was referring to James.
"All right," he said quietly.
A little while later, a confused guard sat in a chair in the shadows. If someone came in, they wouldn't see him, but he could see them perfectly. The three or four guards would take turns. Claude had paid them generously for their trouble. Otherwise, everything was relatively quiet.
"Where were we?" Dawn asked casually after they'd come back up to their room.
The way she was looking at him both surprised him and made the heat flood his stomach. He joined her on the bed. Claude would never have admitted this for the world, but he'd been afraid that they would lose this part of their relationship once Dawn found out she was pregnant. She sensed caution in his touch.
"Don't worry," she whispered, "it won't feel anything. It won't hurt us."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
He wondered vaguely if the baby would remember anything and he hesitated a second time.
"What?" Dawn's voice had an edge of irritability to it.
"Well…"
He wasn't sure how to tell her and his face reddened.
"It won't remember anything," Dawn guessed, "and it won't feel us…the only thing it will sense is our love."
His blue-green eyes began to darken with lust. If she said it was okay, then…
There was a knock at the door. Claude hissed irritably.
"Damn it!" Dawn cursed.
Very quickly, they straightened up their clothing and Claude went to see what was so important.
"We caught the thief," one of the guards informed him, "shall we take her to the Bastille?"
Dawn pushed Claude aside, surprising him.
"Take her to one of the bedrooms," Dawn instructed him, "and keep watch—make sure she can't get out and doesn't escape. We'll deal with this crap in the morning."
Unused to being ordered around by a woman, the guard glanced at Claude, who nodded.
"As you wish," the guard replied. He left.
Dawn locked the door and turned to face Claude.
"Third time's a charm, right?" she asked.
She had never worked so hard to get a moment alone with him. Yes, being a priest's wife was rough, but it seemed that everybody wanted something from him. They wouldn't have much time to be alone after the baby was born.
The flame in his gut that had been present when they'd married burst back into life. There was a revival of the closeness and togetherness that they both so desperately needed. She lay with her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat as it slowly returned to normal.
Suddenly, she stiffened.
"What is it?" he asked, concerned.
She took his hand and pressed it against the slight swelling of her belly. At first, nothing happened. Then, he felt something move. Was he imagining it?
After a few seconds, he felt it again. Dawn giggled.
"He says 'hi'," Dawn told him. She sat up, looking down at the bump. A tiny wave on the side he'd been touching rippled across. Claude stared, his breath caught in his throat. The grin on Dawn's face was the secretive one that only a carrying mother would have.
Squishie bounded up on the bed, her favorite ball in her mouth. She was warm and still panting slightly from having chased the ball around the bell tower.
"Look, Squish!"
The dog tilted her head as if to say "look at what?"
Dawn closed her eyes for a moment. Claude couldn't tell if she was talking to Squishie or if Squishie was talking to her. Squishie wagged her tail and pressed her front paws against Dawn's belly.
"Arrooroorooroo!"
There was no mistaking the joy in the dog's bark. She ran a full three laps around the room before she finally got tired and settled in at the end of the bed. Dawn and Claude laughed at her.
"Silly thing," Dawn muttered, patting her. She wagged her tail, though that was the only part of her that moved. She was definitely going to be asleep in a few seconds. Dawn and Claude lay facing each other with their limbs intertwined.
"Good night, my love," Claude whispered.
"Good night," Dawn yawned. She fell asleep feeling his breath in her hair. She thought only fleetingly about the girl they had captured before she fell asleep.