Page 88 of A Bride for the Tormented Duke
“You…” he exhaled.
The night air fluttered about them, reminding her that this was not where she had planned this conversation to take place. That was going to be in their bed, not by the side of the road in a ditch, surrounded by the gentle lowing of a cow.
“I am,” she nodded happily. “And so you see, this is perfectly normal. Women who are with child feel sick in the early stages, but it will pass, and most likely soon.”
“Do you… do you know how far along?”
She tilted her head. “Four months, perhaps?”
His eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you.”
She smiled a little at that. “I know. And I love you too. You’re going to be a father!”
“And you will be a mother. Right at home with me, where you belong.” He pulled her into him, not seeming to care that they were sitting by the side of the road, that dew was soaking the legs of his breeches, or that she presumably smelled of vomit. “I won’t be sending you away, Aurelia. No matter how many children you have.”
She swallowed. “Sometimes, at night, I think about them,” she admitted. “This baby. What if one day they wonder where they came from? What if they go looking for me… and I’m not there?” The ache of an old hurt still surfaced when she least expected it.
Sebastian cupped her face. “This child will never wonder if they’re wanted. Because every single day of their life, they will watch me choose you. Chooseus.”
She beamed, leaning against him. “…How many would you like?”
She felt the curve of his cheek against her hair as he smiled. “Ten. At the very least.”
“At the very least? Good heavens, do you hope to kill me?”
“Ihopeto have a large family with you.”
“Let’s agree on five,” she said, turning to wrap her arms around him. He held her close. “Starting with this one.”
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Liliana,” she murmured, although she was certain he knew; he had looked into her background, after all, and knew more about where she came from—and from whom—than she did.
“Then, if this is a girl, I think we should call her Liliana. And your uncle?”
Aurelia half-smiled. “Roger. But I don’t want to call our boy Roger.”
“Did he have a middle name?”
“Charles.”
“I rather like Charles, don’t you?” Sebastian guided her toward the carriage where Fellows stood waiting. The older man stepped forward to assist her up, his hand steady and careful. Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make him rock slightly. “Liliana or Charles, old boy. What do you think? Acceptable names for our firstborn?” He didn’t wait for an answer, climbing in after her with a boyish grin.
They would have this conversation over and over with every child she carried. All these decisions meant something.
Her throat swelled with emotion. Everything felt heightened these days—she could hardly go a day without crying! Fortunately, these tears were happy ones. She had everything in the world to be grateful for, and she would continue to have new things to be grateful for as long as she had Sebastian with her.
Until they were both old and gray.
What a privilege that was. And to think, it had only come about because Sebastian had wanted a throwaway wife and heir! How much more they had than that now.
The faint smell of sea salt reached her, even with the windows closed. Once, it had felt alien. Now it meanthome. Their children’s clothes would smell like it. Sebastian’s hair. Her own skin.
His hand wrapped around hers as they made their way back to the home they shared, and there was nothing more in the entire world she could have wanted more.
The End?
