His head swam with memories of the night, of the woman.
He was losing his senses. If a maid breaking a cup could even be a callback to that encounter then he knew he had to take action. No one liked a man who wallowed rather than acting.
He didn’t even like himself at the moment.
“Don’t worry,” he said to the little creature scrambling to undo her mistake.
“I won’t trouble you further,” she said, clutching the pieces of cup in her hands and rushing from the room.
“Is she all right?” Andrei asked.
“I don’t know. She’s always jumpy.”
“Well. I hope that you’ll heed what I’m saying to you.”
“Yes,” he said. “You’re not wrong. Nothing that you’re saying is wrong. Even if it is annoying.”
“I have a tendency to be like that. Ask your sister.”
“I don’t need to. I’ve seen evidence of this in my own life all too well.”
“I think we need to do this,” Andrei said. “I think it’s the best thing we can do. For you, and for the country.”
After all these months, he was still so hungry for her that his resolve was weak.
“All right. We will have a ball. And I will choose my new wife.”
Birdie thought that her heart was going to gallop out of her chest, and worst of all, she thought she might pass out. She made it out of the study, and managed to get to the kitchen. She leaned against the wall next to the stove, trying to shrink into an alcove.
That was where Elizabeth found her.
She looked at her with sharp blue eyes. “Birdie,” she said. “You and I are going to go into my quarters and have a talk.”
Being the manager of the household staff, Elizabeth stayed in quarters at the palace. Birdie had been to visit a few times for tea, but she had never been dragged in like she was being reprimanded.
“I’m all right,” she said.
Elizabeth ushered her into the small cozy room and closed the door.
“I’ve suspected for some time that things weren’t right,” she said, looking at Birdie meaningfully. And then her eyes dropped down to Birdie’s midsection. It was getting more and more difficult for her to hide. The growing bump on her small frame was starting to get obvious. She had taken to thickening her waistline just slightly with a roll of cotton so that the space between her rib cage and her stomach wasn’t quite so pronounced. One looked a bit like weight gain; the other looked purely like pregnancy.
“Everything will be all right,” she said.
“Birdie,” Elizabeth said. “I’m only going to ask you this once, and I do expect you to be truthful with me. Are you pregnant?”
Birdie stood silent for a long time, then she went and sat in the floral armchair by the fireplace. She picked at the doily that was resting over the forest-green fabric, her heart thundering so hard she could hardly bring herself to speak. But she knew that if she could tell anyone, it was Elizabeth. She was truly frightened now. Because he was looking for another wife, and she hadn’t mustered up the courage to speak to him. She didn’t know if she ever would. If she ever could.
The pain of him not recognizing her was… It was excruciating. The longer it went on the more it hurt. That first day she had felt like he’d hit her square in the chest when he’d looked at her and seen nothing. But she’d been so shocked that the full weight of it hadn’t fully settled in.
Since then, she’d managed to make herself angry. Devastated. Filled with denial, sometimes. And the time was passing, whether she made a decision about what to do or not.
She was just hiding. Everything. From everyone.
“Yes,” she said. “I am.”
It was a relief to admit it. Because she’d been keeping it to herself. Hadn’t admitted it out loud to anyone. It made it all feel unreal to her. Except her body was changing every day. She felt the symptoms, the exhaustion. And eventually she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide it anymore. She’d always worn her uniform large, to make it easier to move around, and that was about the only thing saving her from exposure now.
Except now she was exposed.
