'Well, I haven't.' She leaned over him, took the cheroot from his
mouth and flicked it into the brambles.
With the first faint flush of evening in the sky a small breeze came
down from the mountain and rustled the leaves above them. The fine
hairs upon her forearms came erect, each on its tiny pimple of
gooseflesh, and her nipples stood out dark and hard.
'You must not be late back to the hospital on the very first day
they've let you out. ' She rolled away from him and reached for her
clothing. Matron will have me hung, drawn and quartered.
Sean agreed. they dressed quickly, and she was remote from him.
All the laughter gone from her voice and her face cold and
expressionless.
He stood behind her to lace the whalebone corset. He hated to cage
that lovely body and was about to say so.
'Saul is coming tomorrow. A month's leave. Her voice was harsh.
His hands stilled and they stood without moving. It was the first time
either of them had referred to Saul since that morning a month ago when
she had come to him at the hospital.
'Why didn't you tell me sooner?' His voice also was harsh.
'I didn't want to spoil today.' She had not turned towards him, but
stood staring out across the glade to the far hills beyond the town.
'We must decide what we are going to tell him.'
'There is nothing to tell him,' she answered flatly.
'But what are we going to do?' Now his voice was ugly with mingled
dread and guilt.
'Do, Sean?' She turned slowly and her face was still cold and
expressionless. 'We are going to do nothing! nothing at all! 'But
you belong to me!' he cried in protest.
'No,' she answered.
'The child, it mine!'
At his words her eyes narrowed and the sweet line of her lips hardened
in anger.
'No, damn you, it isn't! Not yours-although you sired it.
She flamed at him. It was the first time she had unleashed her temper
at him. It startled Sean. 'The child belongs to Sauland I belong to
Saul. We owe you nothing.
He stared at her. 'You don't mean that,' and the flames of her anger
faded. Quickly he tried to press his advantage.
'We'll go away together.'
'Run away-you mean. Sneak away like a pair of thieves.
What would we take with us, Sean? The happiness of a man who loves and
trusts us both-that, and our own guilt. You'd never forgive me, nor I
you. Even now when we talk of it you cannot meet my eyes.
Already you are beginning to hate me a little.
'No! No!'
'And I would hate you,' she whispered.
please.
'You don't love him. ' The agonized accusal was wrung from him, but it
was as though he had not spoken. She went on dressing.
'He'll want to see you. Half of every letter he writes is about
