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Nathaniel looked at her and sighed. “Come on, Calliope, let’s go home. We will try again next week.”
“We could go to Thorne—” Calliope started, but one look from Nathaniel and she closed her mouth.
“I am doing all that I can, Calliope,” he rasped. “I am at my limit. Men broke into my house and hurt my sister… They almost kidnapped Poppy. And you want to dive even deeper into the criminal world of London?”
Calliope bit her lower lip. All true, and yet, Spencer was somewhere out there, probably fighting the French or the Americans.
The need to act, to do something, was instinctive for her. Being made to sit in one place felt like Nathaniel tying her down with a rope.
And yet, she wanted him and the girls to be safe. Seeing him worried, afraid, withdrawn was worse than her own discomfort. She was no longer angry with him. He was in her blood. He was in her soul. She wanted to make him happy, more like the golden lion he had been when she’d met him at the Royal Navy ball.
She wanted to see that glimmer of flirtation in his rakish eyes again.
And so, even if it went against everything she was, she nodded. “You’re right. We’ll wait till next Wednesday.”
After a curt agreement from Nathaniel, Calliope continued working on the house.
He agreed that having a bigger staff meant increased safety, and so Calliope hired a trained butler, a coachman, and two more footmen, making Joshua the underbutler and increasing his wages to reflect his promotion. Two chambermaids joined the household to help with housekeeping and free up Hazel and the twins from housework. A governess moved in and started teaching the girls all those things they had missed.
Violet’s wound was not deep, and after some stitches, it healed well, restricting her only a little. But, as she cheerfully said, she didn’t need to use her arm to read.
It was Poppy who noticed a man observing their house the day after Calliope and Nathaniel missed the man at Portside.
Nathaniel sent the footmen to get rid of him, and the man ran away before they could reach him, disappearing in the streets.
To respect his wishes, Calliope didn’t break her promise to him to go to Thorne or do anything else for the investigation without him. She wanted to ease his fear and to make sure the girls were safe.
It was because of her they were in danger, because of her meddling that someone had their home under surveillance.
Even though it felt like she was tied to one place by a chain, she hoped she could repair her husband’s mood just as she repaired the house, and that he’d look at her with the adoration she’d seen before, on that one night full of stars and irises.
But her sacrifice didn’t seem to make a difference to Nathaniel. He was still angry with her…or afraid… He was withdrawn, still intent on keeping her away from the investigation, which she, like he had accepted her repairs, grudgingly accepted. But her lack of action made her miserable. Itching to do something for Spencer, she felt like she was in prison as she studied a shadow of a man who hid behind a large tree across the street. Every day since Poppy had first spotted him, the man was chased away, and every day, he returned, hiding behind a corner. Behind a parked carriage. Behind the bushes.
Watching.
It must be her passive waiting, but Calliope felt worse and worse every day. She felt nauseated, her breasts ached, and her nipples felt like they were being cut with glass every time something touched them. She was physically exhausted, even though she didn’t do much at all, besides talking to the girls, teaching Hazel to play the pianoforte, and making love to her husband.
They still came together like it was the only thing that connected them. Like bringing each other physical pleasure was their only way of communicating. She showed him how much she cared for him. For God’s sake, she cared enough to do the one thing she thought she’d never do.
Hide.
It must have been the following Monday that Calliope sat straight up, feeling cramps in her lower stomach in the middle of the night. Certain her courses had finally arrived, several days late, she stood up from the bed to search for the cloth pads she used monthly. Nathaniel, who for the first time in days had fallen asleep next to her, stirred and rose on his elbows as he blinked at her.
“Are you well?” he asked.
She turned to him, his long hair in a mess, his gorgeous face sleepy and so domestic…her heart ached. After her investigation was done, would they ever regain the happiness they used to share? Or would they just drift apart ever further, especially once she gave him an heir. Then he wouldn’t need her anymore—
She froze, her hand shooting to her lower belly. She looked between her thighs, expecting to see smears of blood…
Nothing.
She frowned.
She didn’t have her courses. They could still come. However, Nathaniel and she hadn’t missed a single night, except the night of the break-in, making love.
So, it was possible. Could she be…
“I may be pregnant…” she murmured, more to herself than to him. A jolt of happiness and joy shot through her like sunbeams.
