“We are all afraid, my love,” she said.
“Please don’t call me that.”
“My love?” she echoed, blinking at his blunt words.
“No. I cannot risk love Catherine,” he said quickly.
“Whyever not?” she asked, her voice ragged to her ears.
He blew out a harsh breath. “Because I nearly lost my mind that night, and if it were to happen again, Iwouldthrow myself off a cliff into the sea.”
Horror washed over her then. Could he mean it? Would he refuse to ever love her because of the past? “But you cannot control—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted swiftly as if realizing his mistake. “All will be fine. The babe will be fine. Everything will be fine.”
And from the grit in his words, the way his face hardened, and his tears dried up as his hands gripped hers, she did not dare argue.
For in his mind, everything did indeed need to be well. Even if she knew that in this world, it often was not.
Chapter 21
She could not feel easy after that last conversation.
He was never going to allow himself to love her.
She might never have his love.
She had not even known that she’d wanted it so desperately until a few days before. But now she was facing the exact sort of marriage that she had never wanted, one of simple duty and obligation. Oh, perhaps that would be enough. After all, that’s what she’d been raised to expect, but it seemed a rather lonely way to live.
To meet her husband only as a partner in a sort of business rather than two souls bonded together.
She stared up at the soaring green silk bed canopy. His arms were about her. Holding her against him as if he could protect her from the elements as he slept.
Could he truly not care, or was he simply so afraid of the past that he could not dare to let it go? She did not want him to let go of his memories. Those were far too important.
She pushed his arm aside, swung her legs over the bed, and knew that she needed to use the chamber pot. It was one of the most difficult parts of pregnancy. The fact that she was always up but something else bothered her.
As she readied herself, she realized that the insides of her legs were slightly sticky. She reached up her linen gown and came into contact with something slick. Her heart began to pound in a very different beat than it had before.
Her mouth went dry, and she let out a cry of alarm.
He jolted awake in an instant. “What is it?” he asked.
“S-something is wrong,” she bailed. “Something. Something is not right. Please call for Adelaide. Call for Adelaide’s mother. Call…”
He did not need another moment of command.
Instead, he picked her up and placed her back down on the bed. He grabbed the blankets, tucked them up around her chin, and he looked her in the face, and said, “Everything will be well. Do not be afraid. I will be here. I promise you.”
She nodded but his words couldn’t drive back the fear gripping her. She had not wanted to have a baby. She had not wanted this marriage, but now the very idea that it could be gone terrified her.
She had not understood the depth of fear before. She had felt she understood grief because she had lost her parents, but in this particular moment, the idea of losing the small life inside her pummeled her with heretofore unimagined terror.
She grabbed his hand. “Please,” she begged irrationally. “Don’t go.”
“I must go and get you help,” he said firmly but softly.
She nodded. “Then go quickly.”