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‘What do you want to do?’ he asked, his voice tentative, aware that they had options. Equally aware that discussing them could be a minefield if they weren’t on the same page.
‘I want to have the baby,’ Elspeth said, using the same firmness and lack of equivocation with which she had told him she was pregnant. How someone so slight could sound so immovably solid was beyond him—and it was a huge part of her appeal, he realised. Something he should be wary of, then.
He nodded, though, his chest a little lighter, and realised that he was relieved that was what she wanted. Selfishly glad that she had spared him having to come to a conclusion himself. That picture of his future with children—it was what he wanted, he realised. He couldn’t imagine growing old on his land with no one to pass it on to. It wasn’t the child that wasn’t wanted—it was the relationship, and the woman, and the commitment, and everything that came with it that was completely terrifying him.
‘How are you?’ he asked.
Elspeth shrugged. ‘Tired, hungry
. Everything that you’d expect, really. I’m only about eight weeks along. It’s still early days, but I called in a favour and got a scan. Everything looks good so far. We’ve no reason to think that anything will go wrong.’
‘That’s good,’ Fraser said.
His lips involuntarily turned up into a smile. He wasn’t even sure why. He couldn’t even think about what he was meant to be feeling at this news.
‘So, what do we do now?’
* * *
What did they do now?
How on earth was she meant to know? She’d only been able to see as far as this. As far as telling the father of her child that the child existed. From here on in it was up to both of them to figure it out.
It would help if she had a clue where to start.
She didn’t even know the basics about Fraser. Where he lived. Where he was from. His surname...
They’d come back to this very hotel the night of the wedding, so she didn’t have many clues there, apart from the fact that it was one of the most discreetly expensive hotels in the city. She’d gone along with it, surprised, when he’d suggested meeting here.
If she was honest with herself, she was more surprised that he’d agreed to meet her at all. He had money, she gathered, wondering what he would make of her usual coffee shop and feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
‘I guess we try and figure out the practicalities,’ she said. ‘If you want to be involved.’
She’d decided that this was the best tactic. She didn’t want to force him to be in their lives if he didn’t want to be. This child had every right to know its father, but it also deserved a father who wanted to be there. Not someone who was only doing it because they thought that they should.
A harsh look crossed Fraser’s face, and Elspeth realised that somehow she’d touched a nerve.
‘Of course I want to be involved. What kind of person do you think I am?’
She raised her palms. ‘I don’t know what kind of person you are, Fraser. All I know so far is that you get bored at weddings and what you like to do in bed. How am I meant to know what you think about kids? So far, this conversation isn’t filling me with confidence.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s a shock.’
‘I know that.’ She replaced her cup rather too emphatically on the table and reached for a napkin as the liquid sloshed over the side. ‘It wasn’t exactly easy for me to find this out either. I had plans, you know. I have plans. I have responsibilities that don’t exactly fit well with an unplanned pregnancy.’
‘Of course—your permanent role at work. Have you had any news? I guess a baby’s going to throw all your plans out of whack.’
She wasn’t sure whether to be impressed that he’d remembered or annoyed that he was making light of the massive upheaval her career was going to have to go through. She decided quickly on the latter. ‘Don’t you dare be flippant. I need this job, and my career plans are important. I have responsibilities. Responsibilities and a career that are going to be hard enough to make work without you cracking jokes about it.’
Saying the words out loud was making the reality sink in. How on earth was she going to cope? She’d spent the last God knew how many years asking herself that same question. How was she going to care for her sister when her mum was gone? Or when her mum was older and needed a lot of care too? And now a baby in the mix? It was just too much.
She took a long drink of her tea, letting it wash away the lump that was threatening to form in her throat.
‘So—what? You want me to take the baby?’ Fraser asked.
‘What? No. Are you deliberately making this harder?’
How could he jump to that conclusion? It made her realise that he really didn’t know the first thing about her. Any of her friends, her colleagues, anyone who had met her for more than a random night at a wedding would know that she would never let someone else raise her child. And here she was, planning on co-parenting with a man who didn’t even understand the basics about her.
