“I know it was horribly forward of me to come here,” she began, taking the chair he’d indicated. “I just needed to see you. It really couldn’t wait.”
He frowned a bit, sitting back down in his own chair, trying to maintain a cool façade. He was afraid to get his hopes up, afraid to allow himself to think this meant more than it probably did.
“How can I help you?” he asked, drinking in the sight of her. She wore a deep blue gown today, nothing too flashy, but the lack of mourning colors seemed important.
She cleared her throat, dropping her gaze to her hands, which were twisting nervously in her lap. “First of all, I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved that morning... I wasn’t thinking clearly. When you mentioned having children, I felt as though you hadn’t been listening when I told you I couldn’t have them. I thought that even though you said it didn’t matter, there would come a day when it would. When you’d resent me for not being able to give them to you.”
His heart ached for her. “I would never resent you for something you have no control over. But I also don’t want to live without you for the same reason.”
She caught her breath, her eyes filling with tears. “You don’t want to live without me?”
He shook his head, giving her a sad smile. “I never did, sweetheart. You’re the one who constantly seems to be running away from me.”
She pushed to her feet, crossing to the window, and looking out at the street below, refusing to look at him. She seemed as though she were gathering her courage, and he didn’t know what to hope for.
“I’ve always wanted you, too,” she admitted softly. “But now... I’m afraid that I’ve done something... Something you won’t be able to forgive me for.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” he told her, wanting badly to cross the room and take her in his arms but knowing he had to let her get it out in her own way, whatever it was.
Taking a deep breath, she turned toward him, looking decidedly pale and unwell. “I told you that there was no need to take precautions... that I couldn’t have a child...” She pressed one hand protectively over her abdomen. “Apparently, that wasn’t true.”
He stared at her in shock, his brain struggling to make sense of what she’d said. “Are you telling me...?”
She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Yes, the doctor has been to see me, and he’s confirmed it.”
“You’re pregnant,” he said, still not quite able to process it. “You’re going to have my baby?”
“Yes,” she told him. “I know it’s probably not what you want, and perhaps you’re feeling as though I tricked you into this...”
He held up a hand, stopping her torrent of words. “God, no! I would never think that, Clarice.”
She smiled tremulously. “It seems as though the problem was never me.” Her cheeks flushed a deep red. “Once you and I had made love... I realized that the duke had some sort of...issue. With him... It wasn’t like it was with you. In fact, I’m not certain our marriage was ever consummated.”
“That old bastard,” Roman breathed, realizing the old man must have been impotent and Clarice had simply been too innocent to know the difference. “He tried to make you believe it was your fault rather than admit that he was the problem.”
“I think so,” she admitted. “But now I’m pregnant, and I’m not even truly out of mourning. It will be a terrible scandal. I might have to go to the Continent for a while...”
He shook his head, crossing toward her, unable to maintain the physical distance between them any longer. “It will be less of a scandal if we marry,” he said quickly, not even really stopping to think about it.
She froze, staring at him wide-eyed. “You still want to marry me?”
“Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said?” he asked in frustration. “You told me the reason you couldn’t marry me was that you couldn’t have my children.” He gestured toward her belly. “Well, that isn’t a problem any longer. So, I will procure a special license, and we can be wed before the end of the week.”
She bit her lip, the tears that had been welling in her eyes spilling down her cheeks. “Could it really be that easy?”
He sighed and took her into his arms, holding her tightly. “I love you, Clarice. You’re having my baby. Of course, I want to marry you. Could it be any simpler?”
“You love me?” she asked softly, lifting her face from his chest and giving him a tremulous look.
“I always have,” he said with a smile. “That’s why I came to your husband’s funeral. Why I’ve been waiting ever since for the slightest chance you felt the same.”
“I do feel the same,” she whispered. “I’ve loved you as long as I can remember, Roman. I thought of you every day. I dreamed about you every night.”
“Then I think everything has worked out exactly as it was meant to.” Burying his face in the fragrant cloud of her hair, he pressed his hand against her belly, his eyes stinging at the thought of his miraculous unborn child. He thanked God for the gift that had made her turn to him and hoped that someday he could prove to her that he would have loved her even without it.
Epilogue
Ten Months Later...
