This one is for Spirita.
Chapter Six
Sweet Morning
Roxton was a silent nervous wreck. His fragile stonewall was rapidly crumbling and he was wearing himself out trying to keep the pieces together. The only other time he'd felt so out of control of the spiraling universe was when he had accidentally killed his brother, William. Yet, he forced a sense of calm around everyone else. Marguerite needed their care and attention more than he and he didn't want to rob her of that.
Thinking of Marguerite, he winced and regretfully shut his eyes. How could he have placed her in such a dangerous situation? He should have known that the risks far outweighed his burning desire. Having a baby on the plateau was suicide for a foreigner like Marguerite. Granted, she was as tough as nails, but pregnancy tended to steal one's strength both physically and mentally.
He heard her shuffle into the room; her enlarged belly making it difficult for her to maneuver. She was now five-months along and her figure was still slender except for the whale growing inside her: making her oddly proportioned and wobbly. He leapt to his feet to offer her a hand, but she shoed him away. "You've done quite enough already, Roxton."
He held back the biting remark that rolled around on his tongue. Challenger told him to expect extreme degrees in mood. That she would lash out just for the sake of doing so: her pregnancy playing with her hormones and emotions like a game. So, instead, he played it as sweetly as he could. "How are you feeling this morning, Marguerite? Would you like some breakfast?"
"I'd feel better if this baby would just sit still." She lowered herself delicately onto the chair that Roxton had just evacuated. "What's for breakfast? Oh, wait, let me guess: soup!" She scowled at the word, but then her expression softened and she patted her stomach. "Ok," she spoke softly (she was not one for cooing). "I'll feed you. Stop whining." She smiled warmly up at the hunter. "Roxton, be a darling and fix your child some meat."
He mocked a bow, smiling. That was the first time Marguerite had referred to the baby as his. "I'm at your humble service, madam. And what would the child prefer? The dark, tough T-rex blanketed in herbs or the tender raptor sprinkled with…well…herbs?"
She rolled her eyes, a smile dancing in her brown depths, but never touching her lips. "Anything dark and medium rare."
While Roxton set forth preparing her meal, Marguerite noticed the vase of wildflowers for the first time. The bouquet of reds and blues were dusted through and through with lavender lilacs. Lilacs. They were her favorite. She felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes and she gazed up at the tall, dark man cooking her meal. "Thank you, John."
When he glanced her way, she indicated the flowers and he smiled at her. "You're welcome, Marguerite." Maybe things wouldn't be as dire as he had feared.
End Chapter Six
Thank you so much for the reviews. I'm sorry it took me longer to post this chapter. I didn't have access to a computer for an entire day! I know: it's such a horrid crime.