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'Don't worry,' Cally returned, 'I'm becoming quite expert at fooling people.'
Nick's smile was swift and hard. 'How very true.'
'Perhaps you need a little practice, too,' she said. 'For someone who's got exactly what he wanted, you're hardly jumping for joy.'
'I felt you might regard such displays as tactless.'
'Why?' She didn't look at him. 'After all, I'll soon be getting what I want too.'
'Of course,' he said sardonically. 'I almost forgot. So, shall we behave like prospective parents, Cally? Shall we hold each other and cry with happiness? Shall we argue about whether we're having a girl or a boy, and make lists of names and bicker over them? Then get serious and discuss schools and universities, and future careers for the tiny thing growing inside you?' He took her chin, making her face him, the silvery eyes glittering like ice. 'Shall I make sure, my sweet wife, that not even a breeze blows on you too roughly over the next seven months?'
If only, her heart cried out to him. Oh, God, if only...
And she suddenly had an image of Vanessa Layton's face, smiling faintly. An image that would haunt her, she knew, through all the remaining days she spent with Nick.
Her stomach began to churn again, in rejection and jealousy, and there were tears, hot and heavy, in her chest. Her voice sounded thick as she jerked her head away, scared of what he might read in her eyes. 'Or shall we just congratulate each other on a successful deal?'
She undid her seatbelt and fumbled for the door handle. 'And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be sick.'
The doctor that Nick had insisted on calling was a woman, slim and blonde, in her early thirties, who was quick to be reassuring.
'No, there's no need for you to be wrapped in cotton wool, but your husband is right to err on the side of caution. Basically you seem very well, Lady Tempest, if a little tense, so enjoy some pampering, and I'll see you next week for the necessary tests and paperwork.' She paused. 'I don't know if Sir Nicholas is planning for you to have the baby in London, but I can assure you that the hospital at Clayminster has an excellent obstetric unit. In fact, I can personally recommend it.'
She got to her feet. 'One more thing. For the next few weeks, it might be as well to put marital relations on hold—just to be on the safe side.'
'Yes,' Cally said woodenly. 'Of course.'
'I realise this won't be easy, as you haven't been married very long, but you can resume around the fourth month,' Dr Hanson went on. Her smile had an engaging twinkle. 'Some people find it gets even better.'
She picked up her bag. 'By the way, your husband was obviously concerned when, as he was bringing you home earlier, you began to cry and couldn't stop. But I explained that hormonal changes might well make you a little weepy and grouchy at first.'
Cally flushed. She said, with a touch of constraint, 'I think it was more the humiliation of having him hold my head while I threw up in front of him at the side of the road.'
'I think he took it all in his stride.' The doctor gave her a sympathetic look. 'After all, it's his baby too. I was sick with both my boys, but it stopped in the third month, thank heaven. Unless you're very unlucky, you'll probably find the same.'
Cally forced a smile. 'I'll just have to hope for the best.'
She was lying back against the pillows, gazing listlessly into space, a few minutes later when Nick came in.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. 'How do you feel?'
'Much too well to be lying down like an invalid,' she admitted stiltedly. 'And I'm starving too.'
'Good.' He paused. 'Does that mean you'll be joining us for dinner?'
'I think so. I still have to meet your mother.' She played with the sash of her dressing gown. 'I—I won't mention Mrs Layton, I give you my word.'
'Thank you.' He was frowning a little. 'I'm sorry to burden you with this, but Vanessa had planned to be away again next week when my mother was due to arrive.'
Cally took a deep breath. 'She's the soul of discretion, isn't she?'
He stared at her. He said slowly, 'You sound as if you blame her for this mess.'
'I'm not out to apportion blame,' Cally told him shortly. 'Besides, it's really none of my business.'
She thought she detected a note of bitterness in his brief sigh, but all he said was, 'Then let's try and have a pleasant meal.' He paused. 'Do you need help to bathe and change?'
She stiffened defensively. 'No—thank you.'
His voice slowed to the drawl she hated. 'Don't get paranoid, darling. I wasn't volunteering. Margaret offered to lend a hand, that's all.'
'That's-—kind of her. But I can manage.' Her smile was small and pinched. 'I don't have to be treated with kid gloves. And morning sickness is an inconvenience, not an illness. I'll be fine.'
