Author's Note: Sorry for the delay - had unexpected minor surgery a couple weeks ago that took me down for a bit.
Spoiler alert: If you haven't read Pride and Prejudice but want to, read it before reading this chapter. :)
Mark remained silent as she walked on his arm out of a physician's home an hour south. He stopped at the four front steps, needing one hand on the railing and the other on the cane to maneuver down. She stilled, her heart breaking. This was the third surgeon who specialized in bone and joint trauma from the wars - the best in England. And he agreed with all of them that Mark was forever crippled.
He stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up. Humiliation clouded his usually vibrant blue eyes. For once, he had no sharp words to hide his heartache.
She held his gaze. "There has to be more than this or a brace that locks your leg straight. You're in pain and not even old enough to have arthritis compounding the pain. We aren't going until he offers some other solution." Folding her hands into her muff, she planted her feet at the top of the steps.
Without a word, he held out his gloved hand.
Tears stung as she shook her head. "I'm not leaving until we figure out how to fix it! Sometimes it gives out on you! What if you're holding the babe and fall, or what if you're on the stairs and you fall! It's getting more unstable as the swelling goes down!"
"I'll wear the brace when holding the babe. Stop having a tantrum and come." But his words held none of their usual vigor, just...defeat.
The tears fell and froze on her cheeks in the gust of winter wind. "No. If you hadn't come for me - "
"You'd be dead." He took a step up, caught her hand and guided her down to take his arm. His eyes on the ground and his voice quiet as he led her to the carriage with his uneven gait. "I wasn't able to protect Anna, but you...I was able to absorb some of the evil from getting to you. Do you mind a crippled husband?" He stopped at the carriage where Brigands held the door. His gaze still remained diverted.
Standing on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his warm cheek. "I think you look a bit devil-may-care - a bit dashing, you know."
His eyes shifted to hers finally, some of the hardship lifting from his eyes as if her opinion greatly mattered. "Then I will be content with my lot."
"Come, my knight. Keep the babe and I safe on the way home." She took his hand and climbed into the carriage. A slight smile tugged when his chest puffed up just a hint like he took pride in the wound he bore because she saw him as more of a man for it.
A crash and a curse from the washroom. Her heart shot into her throat. Tossing her book aside, she hurried out of bed that evening. Whipping open the washroom door, she stopped in her tracks.
Mark wore only a towel around his waist and struggled to get off the floor from amid the toiletries strewn everywhere.
"Are you alright?" She rushed over and helped him up.
"My goddamn knee gave out when I was getting out of the tub," he snapped and used the edge of the vanity to stand up.
She grabbed a rag and cleaned a long red line on his back where he'd skinned it against the tub lip. He leaned down and picked up some of the items on the floor. "Mark, hold still."
"It's fine, leave it be," he grunted.
"Humor me." But he didn't stop. "Honey, hold still for one minute."
The man slowly straightened and turned his head to look over his shoulder. "What did you call me?" The growl came out low and deep.
She blinked. "Mark?"
"No, you said, 'honey.'" His eyes narrowed.
"Oh. Sorry." Stepping behind him, she released a silent sigh.
"Don't apologize when you've done nothing wrong," he rumbled and held still.
Her hands froze. "I thought you didn't like the name."
"If it should slip out again, then it does," he snapped. "Hurry up before my leg gives out again."
She smiled. "Yes, Mark."
"I can see your face in the mirror," he barked. "Don't smile."
Glancing up, she met his eyes, the smile not fading. "No, Mark." Then she resumed attending to his back. A squeak of surprise popped out as he whirled around and pressed her up against the wall.
"Don't sass me, woman." His mouth crushed down on hers and his hands cupped her breasts.
A soft moan was her answer. When he lifted his head and his hands dropped to cradle her belly in the way, she looked up from beneath her lashes and grinned. "If I'm sassy again, will you punish me?"
His eyebrows slowly rose in surprise. "Get in bed!" He barked the words but a smile softened his expression. Then he spun her by her arm to go and gave a sound swat to her bottom.
She giggled and whipped around, taking a step backwards. "Yes, Mark. Shall I strip too?" He was entirely too much fun to tease out of a bad mood.
A low growl of frustration vibrated in his throat and he leaned his hands on the door frame. An arrogant smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "Yes."
She froze and her eyes widened. The only times he'd requested sleeping like that had been the night before and after he'd been in prison.
"Get in bed," he chuckled.
"Wretch!" She grabbed a pillow and turned to throw it at him.
He winked and disappeared back into the washroom.
Her heart fluttered and her arms wrapped around the pillow. A man who looked like him shouldn't be allowed to wink.
The next morning, chills ran up her spine. Mark must've scooted away during the night. She rolled over but encountered cool sheets. With a frown, she opened her eyes.
He sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her, his eyes focused with regret on the cane to the right.
She sat up and rested her cheek on his warm bare back. "I think you're handsome just the same. It'll take some time to adjust, but I'm here to help figure it out." Her arm wrapped around his lean stomach. Silence. "Do you know what I think? God decided that you're just too beautiful and needed to make you a bit more human. He said, 'I know, I'll give him an injury and a woman to fret over him for it for the rest of his life."
A deep sigh heaved his sides and he laid a hand over her arm on his stomach. "It's just hard that the simplest things like getting out of bed are now a challenge," he whispered.
Her heart broke. Slipping around into his lap, she looked up at him through tears that burned. "I'll never be able to explain what your sacrifice means. No one has ever protected me like that..." Her voice cracked.
His arms wrapped around and he pressed a kiss to her hair. "You're worth more than a knee, Tanya," he whispered. "No tears."
She didn't say anything when he needed help getting his pants on because his knee wouldn't bend or when he caught himself at the last minute when his knee gave out as he got up from the breakfast table. He'd grown quieter since the swelling had gone down a week ago and he struggled more to get around.
As he limped out of the dining room, she took her last bite of food and got up to follow him. "Mark?" She slipped her arm through his in the foyer. "Do you have more university books?"
"I have a meeting in a few minutes in the study." He frowned and glanced at her. "Don't tell me you've read all of the books?"
A smile bloomed. "I did."
"That's all I had for mathematics and such subjects. Does the literature in the library not interest you?"
"Oh." The smile faded and she shrugged. "Not having finished school, I wanted to learn before reading novels. And..." Her cheeks burned.
"And?" He cocked an eyebrow as he led her into his office.
"And I'm not so fond of Shakespeare. There's this one book I read just a few pages of years ago - Pride and Prejudice. I saw a copy of it on your library shelf too high for me to reach - "
He scowled. "Yes, said to be written by a woman. Such passionate language is not appropriate for a wife to read."
She cracked a smile. "But it is for a husband? Just how passionate is it?"
The man sat at his desk and gave a dark look. "It gives illusions of some grandeur romance that is not at all realistic. There is talk of a scandalous marriage of the younger sister eloping...it is not appropriate. If you desire more literature, you shall be content with Charles Dickens or Shakespeare. If that does not suit you, you shall have my medical books from university," he huffed.
Her smile bloomed. "How odd you are, husband." She stepped behind him and massaged his tense shoulders. "Society says women should be accomplished and not educated, yet you toss textbooks at me. I have no fantasy that you could ever be romantic, yet you deny me reading passionate books. Am I prone to theatrics or delicate sensibilities?"
He snorted.
"Then you're just being ignorant."
He twisted in his chair, his mouth hanging open in shock. "I won't have my wife reading such nonsense!"
"Fine. I won't read it if you give me some of your work to do so I'm not bored."
His eyebrows snapped together. "This is not a negotiation," he barked.
"Good because you wouldn't win anyways, honey." She glanced up at Brigands in the doorway. "Your appointment is here. Since you didn't have time to give me some work, I'll go read." She pecked a kiss on his forehead.
He grumbled under his breath. "Brigands will fetch the book - don't you try climbing the ladder."
In the doorway, she turned and smiled. "Yes, Mark."
"Brat. You knew you'd get your way," he snapped, but his eyes held a smile.
She laughed and rested her hands on her belly. "Yes, Mark, because you don't deny me pleasures."
"Go before I change my mind, wench. Not that you'd listen anyways," he growled and opened his ledgers.
He entered the library before lunch and sat on the settee beside her, taking her feet into his lap.
She smiled at the homey scene and closed the book. "Did your meeting go well?"
"As can be expected for a bank meeting. Are you enjoying the book?"
Pursing her lips, she frowned down at it in her lap before meeting his eyes. "Yes...but I think Mr. Darcy is misunderstood."
The corner of his mouth tugged up. "How so?"
"He's painted as an arrogant rich man, but I think he's actually just very private and quiet. If he did break off his friend's engagement, he probably thought he had good reason to do so."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You are singular in your opinion of him then. When Anna and her friends read it, they despised Mr. Darcy."
Her mouth fell open and she swatted his arm. "You were going to let me read it all along!"
A chuckle softened the lines of his face. "I would not deny you reading anything. Sometimes I simply wish to see you fiery. So you have a soft spot for Mr. Darcy?" He massaged her feet through the stockings.
"He reminds me of you."
His hands stilled for a split instant, his eyes not flickering from her feet. His posture tensed the slightest bit.
"I think Mr. Darcy is misunderstood and a generous heart lies beneath."
He set aside her feet and pushed himself up with the cane. "As I said, foolish romantic notions." All form of banter vanished from him. Then he walked out.
That evening at dinner, the chit tried to engage in conversation. The ache for Anna had come back sitting with her in the library, talking about the book. Anna had come to love Mr. Darcy. Tanya was different - she saw Mr. Darcy for what he was right away. Just as she had seen through the rumors about himself.
"Mark? Did I upset you? You've been avoiding me all day."
He swallowed hard and cut up dinner more than necessary just to have something to focus his attention on other than her. It was time to finally bury Anna...and put to rest fear of not being able to please Tanya as a cripple. "The longer we wait to consummate the marriage, the more nervous you'll be," he grunted.
She blinked. "But, is it safe?" Her hand laid on her six-month swollen belly.
"The preganancy is sound, so yes."
Her eyes trailed down to the babe. "How...?"
With a leg that refused to work, how indeed. Dropping his fork, he pushed himself up and grabbed the goddamn cane leaning against the table. "Tomorrow night," he growled and limped to the door. That should be enough time for him to be ready to face the humiliation and for her to work up the courage for a bedding. It'd only be a matter of time before she saw the newspapers labeling him the 'drunk murderer' now due to his leg giving out at the worst times.
Getting a bag of ice, he held the railing and cane and made the painful journey up the staircase. He laid in bed with his leg propped up and iced. Nine o'clock came and went without any sign of her. Then ten. Then eleven. The house remained silent. By midnight, the hope of having her warm softness to chase away the nightmares of his tortures to Anna faded. He turned off the lantern and laid down in the cold bed. She'd probably been frightened about the prospect of consummation with a fucked up cripple and had run to the safety of her own room. God knows why she hadn't walked out - left him to rot alone in this hell hole like he deserved.
Her goddamn wonderful scent wafted up from her pillow. The clock in the hall struck one. His eyes burned and throat grew tight. From the beginning, he'd been waiting for the day to come when she'd want to live apart. But love wasn't supposed to be part of the equation - she wasn't supposed to get close enough for it to hurt. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with her. Swallowing hard, he pulled her pillow down to rest on his hip and laid a hand over it, like with the babe. A hot tear burned its way down from the corner of his eye.
Brigands came in late the next morning. 'My lord, are you ill?"
He pulled the sheets over his pounding head. Not nightmares of Anna wasting away in his arms had kept him awake all night, but night terrors of Tanya walking out the door without a glance back as he screamed for her to stop. "Go away."
"Sir? The morning is half over."
A bitter snort erupted. "So she sent you to see if I'm dead?"
"No, my lord." The man sounded confused.
Flinging back the covers, he pushed himself up to a sit. "Go see to your mistress," he snapped and grabbed the goddamn cane.
"But she's - "
"Go!" As soon as Brigands left, he pulled himself to his feet and took a step to the washroom. And collapsed to the floor the moment his knee buckled. Pushing himself back to sit against the bed, he stared at the horrible knee brace contraption in the corner. Three surgeons had agreed that godawful thing was the only other option. One had even said that one day the pain would become so crippling that an amputation at the knee would be necessary. But cowardness prevented him from telling Tanya about that detail. If she had any sense, she'd be gone before sundown.
She avoided him all day. In the afternoon when he caught a glimpse of her in the foyer, she hurried away. She must've seen the hideous metal brace on the outside of his pantaloons and run. Even with the goddamn brace he needed the cane.
The woman showed up to dinner. She slipped into her chair before he had a chance to stand. "Forgive me, I'm a few minutes tardy." Her eyes followed her hands laying the napkin across her lap. She looked anywhere but at him. The woman looked more beautiful than yesterday even though she wore a simpler blue dress and her hair flowed over one shoulder, begging to be touched.
"You've been avoiding me all day - why break the tradition?" he snapped.
Her face reddened. "I'm not sure what to think of tonight."
He picked up a napkin and snapped it open. "There's nothing to think about tonight - you'll sleep in your room again and I'll sleep in mine. You won't have to fear me pawing at you," he barked. It would be pawing because bedding a woman would be goddamn impossible with the pain. The humiliation stung raw and hot.
"I fell asleep in the library reading Pride and Prejudice. You don't want me sleeping in your bed anymore?"
He stilled and looked at her. "You fell asleep?"
She nodded. "I woke up when Brigands tried to lay a blanket on me this morning."
So she hadn't been avoiding him. Relief washed through, making the goddamn hours of sleeplessness and sadness not matter. Gentleman's manners dictated that he should've checked to make sure she was settled in bed for the night, though. He cleared his throat and picked up the fork. "You're to sleep in my chambers. The next time you don't come to goddamn bed, I'm coming to drag you in," he growled.
She cracked a smile and picked up her cup. "Missed me bad, huh?" The chit took a sip, not seeming to mind his dark glare. Then she set the cup down and her smile faded. "You shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain, Mark. You have a terrible habit of it and don't even go to Confession."
"Then go pray for my damned soul," he snapped and picked up his cup. "Not as if I'm not burning in Hell anyways," he mumbled in his glass.
The chit stood and slipped her delicate arms around his neck, leaning her cheek against the back of his head. "Do you think He blames you for Anna? M - "
He snorted a bitter laugh and set down the cup. "She didn't die by natural means," he growled, his hand fisting around the glass. "Sit down and feed that babe." The words ground out between his teeth.
Instead, she stepped to the side, lifted his arm and let herself slide over the armrest into his lap. Then she set his hand on her belly and looked up at him, the purity and innocence of her like water for a thirsting man. "You tried to save her. You're not damned." She laid her head on his chest and something inside twisted. "You're my cuddle bear who growls and snaps but in the end keeps me safe."
"Unless if you get cancer, then I'll chop up and poison you to death." The words spat with disgust. She deserved to know the heinous things he was capable of. "I took her to a surgeon who cut off her breasts. When her belly swelled with cancer, I was ready to cut her open - "
She sat up and set her fingers to his lips. "I know," she whispered and searched his eyes. "You were trying to save her. I also know that the moment she told you she didn't want more treatment, you stopped. You tried to find a cure for her. Because you tried the impossible doesn't make you a monster. To have a man's love that strong that he'd risk everything to save the woman he loves...that he'd look at her no differently without breasts...that's blessed."
Anger surged. "That's a monster," he hissed, his hands clutching the armrests so hard that the wood creaked.
But she didn't flinch under the icy glare. "He took part of my breast with his knife and you've never made me feel less beautiful for it. You've taken what others see as fallen and taught me I'm worthy of demanding respect. You're taking a bastard and calling him your own. How is that a monster?"
The air knocked out of his chest. Such basic human decency and she cherished these things like gold. An angel who loved the devil.
She cupped his cheek, her hand shaking. "I didn't avoid you last night, and today I've been nervous. All I know is a union to be pain and blood and screaming. With any other man, I'd be in tears." She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "I know you won't hurt me, but I wish you hadn't warned me."
Thoughts of everything but making her feel safe fled. Taking her hand from his cheek, he held tight and met her eyes. "Not tonight. If you're this frightened, it's too soon."
"I'll always be this frightened."
In the heat of passion, she never feared. Letting passion lead into consummation would be easier for her. "When the time is right, you won't be afraid."
So she laid her head on his chest and whispered in a timid voice, "Hold me."
How utterly ironic that he of all people could make her feel safe. He wrapped his arms around this small chit who had become the center of his world. "You're safe." The babe moved under his arm, so he laid a hand on her belly. "You're both safe here. I won't let anything happen."
Her arms curled up tight against her chest and her hands tucked under her chin, her trembles gradually calming. It was the first time she'd shown true fear after the assault. The union would be more traumatic for her than expected. He was the last one capable of showing her the tenderness she'd need to face it. If he ever came across that filth of a man again, may God have mercy on his soul.
The woman picked at her food and remained withdrawn during the rest of dinner, so unlike his vivacious Tanya. He cleared his throat, having no idea how to console a frightened woman who didn't weep and cling. "After you eat, we'll go to the library and read to the babe."
Big brown eyes flew up and a smile brought her face to life. "Read to him? Do you think he can hear you?"
"How else is he to learn his father's voice?" he grunted and took another bite. She looked at him with goddamn moon eyes. "Eat and don't look at me like that, woman."
When she finished and he got up with his cane to aid her, she pushed back her chair and then stared at the knee brace. Her eyes bounced up to his. "Does it help?"
"If locking it straight and adding a great deal of weight is supposed to help, then yes," he barked. The humiliation rose.
"Then why keep it on?" She frowned in confusion and took his hand to stand.
To strengthen the muscles so he could wear it in public and not embarrass her by falling every step, perpetuating his drunken murderer title that would humiliate her. "You ask too many questions and pain my head, woman." He slipped her arm through his all the same and leaned on the cane as aid. Even the simple task of walking proved to be a trial, and the brace locking his leg made it even more so. Learning how to not look like an idiot trying to maneuver in it didn't need to happen in front of her. "Go to the library and select a book," he ordered.
"I'll walk with you. There's no rush." She offered an encouraging smile. "I like that you're brave enough to let me help."
Christ, she wasn't supposed to say that. She wasn't supposed to be the encouragement he desperately needed. "You enjoy my humiliation," he snapped.
"I enjoy that you trust me enough to let me be here so we can learn together. Slide your leg forward instead of swinging out your hip. You'll get sore fast doing that." She let go to stand a few steps ahead and watch. Then she frowned. "Your brace looks crooked." The chit came over and knelt, doing something to the alignment. Then she looked up with a smile and held out a hand. "The babe's too big for me to get up on my own anymore."
He braced to support her weight and tugged her hand. Then he took a step. And stumbled as his knee tried to give out but the brace prevented it. The cane and her hand stopped him from sprawling face first on the floor. He straightened and stared at the floor, afraid of another step - afraid of embarrassing her, afraid of her not feeling protected anymore, afraid of seeing her pity. Women's stations relied so much on their husbands'. She had grounds to file a divorce having a cripple, as well as a man unable to consummate the marriage. The babe would be spurned by Society for such a father with his reputation and now his disability. There was no life for a woman and child here. After the amputation in however many goddamn years, he'd be bound to a damn wheelchair or bed like some cripple. "You need to go," he croaked.
"We're almost to the library - "
"No, you need to leave before I ruin you." The words choked out.
She stepped in front and set her hands on his shoulders, meeting his downcast eyes. "I should say I was thoroughly ruined before we met." She cracked a smile. "You've had a hard week with your leg beginning to give out. Come read us a bedtime story and do not be so melodramatic, husband."
He planted his feet, suddenly as frightened as he'd been as the five-year-old boy the night he'd gotten lost in the woods. "And when they cut it off and you're left with a wheelchair-bound or bedridden husband, will you stay?" he demanded.
The woman spun around with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Eventually the pain will be unbearable and the surgeon said they'll amputate. My weight is too much for a peg leg, causing an ulcer and eventually gangrene."
She didn't miss a beat. "For God sakes, we figure something out! We experiment with puddings of various materials and thicknesses until we come up with something that works for a fake leg! You fought to reinvent science for Anna, why the hell are you giving up on this? I'm taking that damn brace to the blacksmith and figuring out how to put some kind of clock gear or something on it so you can bend your leg! I am not Anna!" She spat the words, her eyes shooting sparks. "I'm not going to run because things get hard! Sometimes I hate her for teaching you that!" The woman took his hand and tugged him along.
Just like that, she decided she was in this for life, for the good or bad. There had never been that kind of security with Anna. It was new and foreign and...and so safe. He could take what life would offer because she would stand by him through it.
"I - " Her feet slammed to a halt and she dropped his hand, pressing down on her belly. She gasped in a breath.
"What? What's wrong?" He dropped the cane and limped forward, setting his hands on her belly.
"The babe turned and I couldn't breathe for a moment." Her face relaxed and she dropped her hands.
He swallowed his heart back into his chest.
"Now you did it." She crossed her arms and smiled. He must've had a blank look because she said, "Neither one of us can exactly bend over to pick up the cane." Then she took his hand and knelt. "You can get me up easier than I can you."
"If I don't fall on you," he muttered and pulled her up.
She belly laughed, making the stress dissipate. "That likely was one of the most awkward sights in history."
He chuckled. "I'm sure there've been worse than a cripple helping a pregnant woman pick up a cane."
Her smile dropped to a glare. "You are no such thing. Do not say it again," she snapped and handed over his cane.
"I couldn't even do Brigands' job anymore, who is more than twice my age! Practically any other job but the desk job I have would mean I couldn't work! That's why cripples are beggars on the street! Goddamn open your eyes - you're wed to a cripple!" he snarled, the anger and shame finally unleashing.
Those brown eyes crackled with anger. "You wanted to consummate tonight because you're afraid you can't anymore or you think I won't see you as a man anymore! You're an idiot!"
Brigands walked into the foyer and turned right around.
"I'm an idiot?!" He thrust a finger at his chest. "You have so many goddamn reasons you could divorce me! If one didn't hold up to the King, any of the other ten would!"
"You could just as well divorce me for a multitude of reasons!" Fire burned in her eyes and her cheeks glowed red with temper. "I guess I'm as much of an idiot as you, and a pair of idiots belong together! I'm not divorcing you, so I don't want to hear another damn word about it! Understood?!"
He stared, speechless for a moment. Then his brow snapped together. "You're ordering me to not divorce you?!"
"Yes!" She raised her chin to a haughty angle.
"I'm master of this house, and you do not tell me what I'm to do!"
"I will when you're being a bullheaded ass!" Then she stormed to the library.
His temper shot through the roof and he marched after her with his cane. Slamming the library door shut, he stepped in front of her. "Watch your tongue, woman!"
"Watch yours! You're not a cripple and I'm not leaving you! Maybe that 'master' card worked with Anna, but I'm capable of just as much intelligence as you and shouldering hardship just as much as you! I will not be the meek wife in the corner who looks away when I see you suffer! You will stop being worried that I don't think you're the most wonderful man in the world anymore! If I could bear this injury for you, I would!"
Silence. He stared, the wind knocked out of his chest. Anna had been meek and obedient and needing the rescuing - she never bore any hardship for him, much less would've bore a wound. Tanya, no doubt, would do it all in a heartbeat. This little minx had more fire in her than anyone he'd ever met. That kind of love and loyalty he no longer deserved. His finger thrust at the floor and he forced his voice to not quiver. "You will remember your place in this house - "
"Mark!"
He blinked at the interruption.
"Shut up." Then she pushed him back against the door and crushed her lips to his.
The cane clattered to the floor and he pulled her as close as possible with her belly in the way, drinking in every drop of this woman that he needed like air. "Do not sass me," he panted with no truth behind the words.
"Yes, Mark," she panted and unbuttoned his shirt, her small hands so soft and wonderful against his chest. She nipped his bottom lip.
Heat rushed between his legs, making him gasp at the sudden need.
Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and guided under her skirts. "Show me what you'll do, how it won't hurt." Her hot tongue swept into his mouth. "You don't need a damn knee to please me."
His hips bucked out of instinct, never having known passion like this. It was almost too much. His hand slid up higher and showed her what to expect as he caught her cries of pleasure in his mouth.
She trembled in his arms minutes later, clinging to him to stay upright and panting as hard as him. Dear god, it'd been hard to control himself from showing her what true lovemaking was.
"Mark? My belly aches."
He set a hand on the babe. Light, sporadic contractions hardened and softened her belly. "That's normal after being intimate. It will calm in a few minutes." Leaning a hand on a table, he leaned down and picked up the cane. Then he guided her to rest on the settee. Sitting beside her, he rubbed the babe to ease the contractions. "Did that pain you?"
She shook her head, her cheeks red. "It, um, I think you might be painful to take."
With a nod, he set his hand over hers. "I felt it too that you were at your limit with the scarring."
Her eyes fell to her belly. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever are you sorry for?" He tilted her chin up, and his heart twisted to see tears shimmering in her eyes.
"That I can't..." Her lip quivered. "I don't want you to find companionship elsewhere."
"No, Tanya." He dug out his handkerchief and brushed away her tears. "I never intended to find it elsewhere. That agreement was for you. It's possible that with time and patience, your body may eventually accommodate. If not, there are other ways to please each other like we just did."
"Will you have to cut out the babe?"
He stroked her hair. "We will do everything we can to avoid that."
"So it will be like Brigands' wife healing? She didn't seem too painful." She must've caught the split moment of hesitation in his eye. "Worse?"
"You don't need to be worried about childbirth - "
"Tell me."
With a sigh, he met her frightened eyes. "You would have a bit more discomfort because a cut would be made into your womb whereas hers was removed. I would ensure the surgeon made the smallest possible incisions, and we'd give you medication afterwards for any discomfort."
"You wouldn't do it?"
"I don't have a license, Tanya."
"But you would be more careful and make sure the babe's alright. What if something went wrong? They think your ways are backwards, but you save those that they cannot - "
He took her hands and held her gaze. "If it came down to life or death, I would step in regardless of what the surgeon says. I'm not going to let anything happen to you or the babe."
"It hurt so much what he did. How much worse will it be trying to fit a babe?" She sniffled and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Oh, sweetheart, I have witnessed dozens of births. I think the fear in your head is worse than reality. You must trust me in this." He pressed a kiss to her hair.
He read the final pages of Pride and Prejudice to her and the babe as she laid her head in his lap. Reading the final line, he set down the book and looked down at her.
"I was right about Mr. Darcy." She smiled, her eyes glittering with that spirit once again.
"Indeed." His fingers stroked her smooth brow. "You are just as bullheaded as the heroine. You've ruined me for anyone else, you know."
Her eyebrows rose. "I didn't know you had a penchant for marrying anyone else." She cracked a smile. "If I shall perish, you'll remain a grieving bachelor for the rest of your days?"
"You shall do no such thing. I would rot away without your fire keeping me on my toes, and it's said the ornery live forever. Therefore, you shall simply have to live forever with me."
She smiled and sat up, leaning a hand on his thigh to be face to face. "And what is it that you shall have me do forever to keep my husband ornery?" A soft kiss pecked on his lips.
"You shall irk me every day with your teasing. Then you shall challenge one thing I say a day - "
Her head fell back in a hearty laugh and then she looked at him, her grin as warm as the sun. "Because you like it when I yell at you."
He grunted in agreement and pecked a kiss on her lips. "Then you shall be saucy during dinner so that I shall have to take you upstairs afterwards to punish you."
She giggled, the magical sound warming his heart. "It does indeed sound like I shall keep you ornery for years. Will you bark at me every day?"
"Most definitely."
The tip of her nose rubbed against his. "And perhaps need to swat my bottom now and then?"
He grinned. "Of course. On rare occasion, I may be a scandalous rogue and take you to our chamber during daylight." The instant the words were said, regret came. That was too bold, too unconventional. Anna had been appalled the one time he'd taken her into the bedroom after lunch.
She looked at him beneath her lashes. "You are a wicked man. Will you teach me tomorrow what this scandalous rogue shall do with me?" A shy smile blossomed on her lips.
His eyes rolled back for a moment as heat rushed.
"Does it hurt you? You look so swollen."
His eyes flew open and he followed her gaze to where his pantaloons strained. A smile tugged. "No, it doesn't pain me."
Her finger gave a soft stroke in curiosity.
A sharp breath and he closed his eyes. She'd be the death of him, Hallelujah.
"No clothes. I won't bed you, but no clothes."
She spun around in his chambers in surprise, her nightgown in hand minutes later to change in the washroom. His eyes still dilated to black, the hungry look sending her heart fluttering. Setting her nightgown on the bed, she turned to go strip in the washroom.
"Here."
Her toes curled in self-consciousness. "I look different than the last time you saw. More unattractive."
"Such a thing is impossible." His voice rumbled husky and deep in his chest. "I have seen stretch marks and things that happen during pregnancy. Nothing will shock me, and nothing will make you look less beautiful. Let me see my wife."
He never asked for anything. So she slipped off the dress that barely fit anymore and diverted her eyes as she cupped her belly through the chemise so he would see just how big the babe had grown. "I'm big and - "
"And growing a strong heir." He limped around the bed and pulled off the remaining clothes. "You look as a woman with child should." His hands swept around her belly that stuck out almost to a point the past couple days. "What is it that you're ashamed of?" He spoke with such quiet patience.
She set a hand on her belly. "At the market with the sheriff, there was another woman there with child. She looked as big as me but said she was going under house confinement the next day. She said I'm too big to be six months."
He sighed and palpated. "The babe turned, making your belly stick out more because of it, for one. Your belly will change shape as the babe moves and grows. For another, you are not too big. I don't understand why women must comment on each other's sizes. Part of what controls how big your belly appears is how toned your abdominal muscles are. You were starving to death, so your body began eating your muscles. You don't have the muscle strength with this pregnancy for the baby to be held up and tight to your body." He nudged the babe, who kicked and turned, making her belly look round again.
"So I look like women who are about to birth?"
His eyes narrowed. "You look healthy. Why is your weight and size a repeat concern each month?"
"I found one of Anna's dresses. Her waist was smaller than mine and she was taller." She bit her lip and looked up at him. "Is that why you wouldn't touch me for so long? Because I'm not pretty like she was? I know I'm too dark and too curve-less and too short for what the English consider pretty..."
He scowled. "You are beautiful, and I like that you are different than Anna. I will never favor you or Anna over each other."
Pressing her lips together, she gave a sad smile as tears shimmered in her eyes. "Except she will always be the one you love. There's something she has that will forever leave me wanting in your eyes." Picking up her nightgown, she pulled it on and wrapped her arms around herself to keep her heart from shattering. Today had been so much comparison against Anna. There was only so much her heart could stand. "I think I shall sleep in my chambers," she whispered and walked to the door.
"Tanya."
She turned and forced a brave smile. "I know. You told me in the beginning that you would always love her, and I never expected that to change. It's just harder than I expected to fight and laugh and play with you and be touched like a lover but to never quite measure up. I'm used to never being good enough." A tear rolled down her cheek, and his face crumpled with guilt. "I don't blame you. I just need tonight." Then she slipped out the door into the darkness.
