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Harriet put her hands over her stomach and uttered instinctively, ‘Oh, yes,’ and then more strongly as the implications hit her, ‘Oh, yes!’
New life. She was carrying a new life. A part of herself and therefore a part of the family she had lost. Her baby would carry some of their genetic characteristics, creating another bridge between the past and the future. The circle of life was complete…birth, death, rebirth. Yes, Harriet too would die in her turn, but her baby would live and grow and give birth to new generations…
In six months’ time she would be part of a family again, she realised in wonder.
‘Now, are you sure of your dates?’ Dr Baker asked briskly when the confirmation came through from the clinic laboratory. ‘From the palpitation I did during the examination you seem to be rather large for three months.’
‘It was definitely New Year’s Eve,’ said Harriet weakly.
Dr Baker smiled knowingly. ‘Ah. A celebration baby.’
A celebration baby. It certainly was, but not in the way that Dr Baker had meant it.
Harriet drove the Porsche very carefully on the way back to the office. She wondered numbly if Porsche made a child-restraint she could fit to her car. Thank goodness she hadn’t blown all of her inheritance yet!
It wasn’t until she walked back into the file room and saw Nicola that her bubble of self-absorption burst and she remembered that there was someone else with a vested interest in the life that her body contained.
Marcus! Oh, God, what was Marcus going to say? They had just agreed to start a no-strings affair and now she was going to land him with a baby!
Harriet slumped over her desk, burying her face in her hands. She felt sick. If she told him that she was pregnant he would probably feel compelled to take responsibility for her and her baby. He would order her about, he would try to curtail her freedom, he might even…God forbid…want to marry her. No, not want. He would feel that he had no choice, honourable man that he was.
But there was no choice for her now either, with a baby on the way. She couldn’t run away from a helpless child for fear of loving it too much. For the baby’s sake she would have to make an emotional investment in the future.
But not with Marcus. He made it clear that he enjoyed her body and her company, but he had never once tried to lay claim to her emotions, and he kept his own cloaked in a reserve that was difficult to penetrate. If she was voluntarily going to re-enter the real world of real relationships, with all their potential joys and tragedies, then she would find a man who would accept his share of the burdens of loving…
‘Harriet? Are you all right? You look awful. Did something happen at the doctor’s?’
She became aware of Nicola, crouched beside her chair, peering anxiously at her tormented expression.
Harriet straightened like a jack-in-a-box. ‘No, no, I’m fine,’ she said shrilly, giving Nicola a huge, toothpaste smile.
Nicola smiled back uncertainly. ‘Good, because Daddy wants to see you. He phoned a few minutes ago and asked if you would go up as soon as you got back from lunch.’
Oh, God! She couldn’t ignore the summons. He would get suspicious, especially knowing where she had been. If only she had had more time to think, to adjust…
It seemed to Harriet that everyone in the hallways and in the lift was glancing at her mid-section and speculating about her guilty secret, and by the time she reached Marcus’s office her nerves were wound as tight as a drum.
When she went in he was standing behind his desk, hands in his pockets, frowning at nothing in particular. He hurriedly withdrew his hands. ‘Harriet! How did the visit to the doctor go?’
‘Fine,’ she said cheerfully, fully prepared for that one.
‘Mmm.’ He gave her a considering look. ‘I’ve just spoken to Nicola—I was wondering where you were. She said you came back a little late, and seemed rather pale.’
‘Uh, did she?’ Drat! She hadn’t been prepared for that. Her eyes slid away from Marcus’s and she pretended to flick a speck off her black leather skirt. ‘I got caught in traffic.’ She could feel the warmth under her collar and hoped it didn’t show.
His cool blue eyes sharpened. ‘You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if something was wrong?’
The back of her neck got hotter. ‘Of course I would,’ she lied, with a beatific smile.
He prowled around the edge of his desk and hitched his hip to sit on the corner nearest her, his free-swinging leg almost brushing her skirt.
‘Good…good. Because that’s important—that we trust each other sufficiently to be honest about ourselves,’ he said. ‘That we don’t feel constrained to hold things back for fear of being hurt or embarrassed.’
Harriet’s guilt grew to crippling proportions. Would he be hurt or embarrassed to learn of his impending fatherhood? He surely wouldn’t be as joyous as Harriet had been after the first instant of horror. He had a fifteen-year-old daughter, for goodness’ sake; he had been through it all before. Another baby, especially an illegitimate one, would be seen as a tiresome complication rather than a miraculous gift of love. She was right not to tell him about it yet, to wait until she had formulated a plan for her and the baby’s future that would be proof against all the pressures he was sure to bring to bear on her to conform to his plans…
She mumbled a vague agreement and he picked up her hand and rested it on his knee for a moment, smiling at her, before he turned it over and idly traced the life-line in her palm.
‘What did you call me up here for?’ she asked desperately, when it seemed that he wasn’t going to say anything else.
