Seven months later
VIOLET WAS READING in bed when Ford burst into the chamber. “I’ve just had a message from Jason. Cait is delivering their babe, and the family is gathering at Cainewood to celebrate. If we leave soon enough, you may even witness the birthing.”
“That would be nice,” she said dreamily, toying absently with the cover of her book.
“What’s that?” He walked closer, and his lips curved in a half-smile. “Aristotle’s Master-piece again?”
She sat up against the headboard and grinned. “I’ve suddenly become interested in this particular chapter. Listen.” She patted the bed beside her and waited for him to sit. “‘Signs taken from the woman are these. The first day she feels a light quivering or chillness running through the whole body; a tickling in the womb, a little pain in the lower part of the belly—’”
“What on earth?”
“Just listen.” She turned the page. “‘Ten or twelve days after, the head is affected with giddiness, the eyes with dimness of sight…’”
“Violet—”
“‘…the belly soon sinketh, and riseth again by degrees, with a hardness about the navel,’” she pressed on. “‘The heart beats inordinately, the natural appetite is dejected, yet she has a longing desire for—’”
Ford’s hand clenched her arm. “What’s the title of this chapter?”
She turned back to the previous page. “‘Of the Signs of Conception.’”
When she looked up, his heart was in his brilliant blue eyes. “Does this mean…?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I hope you’re pleased.”
And a moment later, he gathered her into his arms, telling her without words just how very pleased he was.
Apparently being with child had some effect on her responses. When his mouth met hers, her head was affected with giddiness and her heart beat inordinately…
Wait, she thought, with what little sense she had left. He always made her feel those things.
Always.
They were going to be late to Cainewood.