Bridget was standing in very much the same spot in the upstairs drawing room that she had been in when Stephen last saw her. But this time instead of her arms being folded across her chest, they hung in front, her hands clasped tightly together. He couldn’t recall having ever seen her look so ill at ease.
And pale.
All his thoughts of gloating and making her beg for forgiveness fled his mind. He hurried over to her. “You are not well. Have you seen a physician?”
She gave a halting laugh. “I am feeling better today than I have in a long time. And in answer to your question, yes, I have seen a doctor. In fact, that is why you are here.”
Huh?
“Please have a seat. What I have to say may come as a bit of a shock, so you should be sitting down. I know it certainly floored me,” she said.
Stephen took a spot on one of the sofas. His nerves tingled when Bridget came and sat beside him. He wanted to reach out and take a hold of her hand, but her stiff posture stopped him.
I’ve missed you.
Any thoughts of them rekindling their affair dimmed as he took in her nervous fidgeting. The tight smile on her lips added further to his growing discomfort.
“I don’t have to explain the wonders of nature to you or . . . oh.” She wrung her hands. “Sorry, this is harder than even I had imagined it would be.”
Ignoring the warning bells which were going off in his head, he settled his warm hand over hers. “Just start at the beginning and be as clear as you can. I wouldn’t bother with the metaphors.”
“Alright. Have you ever heard of male infertility?”
Stephen raised an eyebrow. This was most certainly not the topic he expected to be discussing. “I have heard of men not being able to perform sexually.”
Not that it had ever been a problem for him.
“Yes, well I have discovered that a man can ‘get it up’ and still not be able to sire any offspring. I don’t suppose it is something that men even consider a possibility. If no children are produced in a marriage, the woman bears the blame.”
Stephen raised his free hand, slipping a finger into the top of his cravat. It was suddenly too tight.
“It would appear that my late husband suffered from this condition; and by connection, so did I.”
Bridget took a hold of his hand and raised it to her lips. For a moment Stephen was in two minds as to her motive for this sudden display of affection. Was she offering comfort or trying to prevent him from fleeing?
Her grip tightened. “Stephen, I am pregnant. With your child.”