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The future. Henry had given her the future that she had dreamed of—a child and her independence to raise it. So Gabrielle had found the strength to break away, end this thing between them. Perhaps it had only been an illusion if she had been able to go to another man, lie with him like that.
She had found the strength that he did not have because somewhere, nagging at him, there was a solution to her dilemma. One she no longer needed.
Gray closed his eyes for a moment, shut out Henry’s distressed expression, his godmother’s indignant fluster.
Deal with Godmama first.
He opened his eyes, took a breath. ‘We found we could not agree on many things, and because of that marriage was impossible. Gabrielle clearly feels that a clean break is best.’
‘And because of you, my poor George lost the opportunity to woo her. It would have been a perfect match.’ His godmother was shedding angry tears into her table napkin.
‘Gabrielle would never have married George. She was quite clear about that.’
‘You cannot be certain.’ She threw down the napkin. ‘Go after her, make her come back. I am past caring whom she marries—it is impossible that she is out there alone, running a business.’
‘No,’ Gray said flatly. ‘I will not.’
* * *
‘I don’t know what the matter is with me.’ Gaby clutched the side of the bunk with one hand and the basin Jane had just passed her with the other. ‘I have never felt seasick before.’
‘Possibly because you are not seasick.’ Jane pressed a damp cloth to her brow.
‘I’m not? But I am not feverish, I can’t believe this is some infection or food poisoning. It is probably a judgement on me for all those lies about how we were laid up with a cold,’ she added miserably.
‘When did you last have your courses?’ Jane whisked away cloth and basin.
‘Er...’ Gaby sat up and waited until the cabin stopped spinning. ‘Let me see. About a week before Gray arrived at the quinta. But that’s... That means I have missed two.’
‘Exactly.’
‘You think I am pregnant? But I can’t be. I’m irregular because of the travelling and the change, that is all it is.’ But she had never been irregular before, not by more than a day or two.
‘You are not irregular. You are late. Two months late. Are you saying it is impossible that you are with child? You are queasy, you are dizzy and you are tired. You tell me you can’t eat fish suddenly and you want sweet things. Can you think of any other explanation?’
‘No. But I only... It was only twice and he—’
‘Withdrew?’ Jane said crisply. ‘It is not an infallible method.’
Thank goodness for a natural philosopher, Gaby thought rather wildly.
It was true, of course. Nothing else explained this.
At least one of us is not embarrassed. And thank goodness I have discovered it here and not in London. I cannot tell Gray. He would insist on marriage. But a baby. My child. I will be such a good mother, she vowed. But what will I tell everyone?
Her thoughts were spinning out of control and she pulled herself up sharply. There was no way she could create a convincing marriage and widowhood now. She would just have to brazen it out and do everything in her power to keep her child happy and accepted. She was Gabrielle Frost of Quinta do Falcão, she had power and she would use it, call in every favour, to protect this baby.
* * *
They sailed into Lisbon on December first under a cold blue sky. Gaby leaned on the rail, thankful for the calming waters as the ship reached the estuary and slid between the shelter of the towering hills that contained the city.
A night to recover from her shock had done no good at all. Gaby felt unwell, thrilled, terrified—and conscience-stricken. This was Gray’s child as well as hers and she had no right to keep it from him. And she knew what he would say when he found out—that they must marry.
Was she hard enough, strong enough, to go against her conscience in order to do her duty to her inheritance? The answer was no, even though it meant losing the company, meant that this child would not inherit one day but that James, the little boy she had never seen, would be master of Frost’s—if Gray did not sell it first.
But I love him. Surely I can trust him not to sel
l?
