And without glancing to judge the effect of his words, Kev strode from the library.
Win's sense of unease grew as evening settled over the house. She stayed in the parlor with her sisters and Miss Marks until Beatrix had tired of reading. The only relief from Win's growing tension was in watching the antics of Beatrix's ferret, Dodger, who seemed enamored of Miss Marks, despite-or perhaps because of-her obvious antipathy. He kept creeping up to the governess and trying to steal one of her knitting needles, while she watched him with narrowed eyes.
'Don't even consider it,' Miss Marks told the hopeful ferret with chilling calm. 'Or I'll cut off your tail with a carving knife.'
Beatrix grinned. 'I thought that only happened to blind mice, Miss Marks,'
'It works on any offending rodent,' Miss Marks returned darkly.
'Ferrets are not rodents, actually,' Beatrix said. 'They're classified as mustelidae. Weasels. So one might say the ferret is a distant cousin of the mouse.'
'It's not a family I'd care to become closely acquainted with,' Poppy said.
Dodger draped himself across the arm of the settee and pinned a love-struck gaze on Miss Marks, who ignored him.
Win smiled and stretched. 'I'm fatigued. I'll bid everyone good night now.'
'I'm fatigued as well,' Amelia said, covering a deep yawn.
'Perhaps we should all retire,' Miss Marks suggested, deftly packing away her knitting in a little basket.
They all went to their rooms, while Win's nerves bristled in the ominous silence of the hallway. Where was Merripen? What had been said between him and Julian?
A lamp burned low in her room, its glow pushing feebly against the encroaching shadows. She blinked as she saw a motionless form in the corner… Merripen, occupying a chair.
'Oh,' she breathed in surprise.
His gaze tracked her as she came closer to him.
'Kev?' she asked hesitantly, while a chill slithered down her spine. The talk had not gone well. Something was wrong. 'What is it?' she asked huskily.
Merripen stood and towered over her, his expression unfathomable. 'Who was the doctor you saw in London, Win? How did you find him?'
Then she understood. Her stomach dropped, and she took a few steadying breaths. 'There was no doctor,' she said. 'I didn't see the need for it.'
'You didn't see the need,' he repeated slowly.
'No. Because-as Julian said later-I could go from doctor to doctor until I found one who would give me the answer I wanted.'
Merripen let out a breath that sounded like a scrape in his throat. He shook his head. 'Jesus.'
Win had never seen him look so devastated, beyond shouting or anger. She moved toward him with her hand outstretched. 'Kev, please, let me-'
'Don't. Please.' He was struggling visibly to control himself.
'I'm sorry,' she said earnestly. 'I wanted you so much, and I was going to have to marry Julian, and I thought if I told you about having seen another doctor, it would… well, push you a bit.'
He turned away from her, his hands clenched.
'It makes no difference,' Win said, trying to sound calm, trying to think above the desperate pounding of her heart. 'It changes nothing, especially after today.'
'It makes a difference if you lie to me,' he said in a guttural tone.
Romany males could not countenance being manipulated by their women. And she had broken Merripen's trust at a time when he had been particularly vulnerable. He had let down his guard, had let her inside. But how else could she have had him?
'I didn't feel I had a choice,' she said. 'You're impossibly stubborn when your mind is made up. I didn't know how to change it.'
'Then you've just lied again. Because you're not sorry.'
'I'm sorry that you're hurt and angry, and I understand how much you-'
She broke off as Merripen moved with astonishing swiftness, seizing her by the upper arms, bringing her up against the wall. His snarling face descended close to hers. 'If you understood anything, you wouldn't expect me to give you a baby that will kill you.'
Rigid and trembling, she stared into his eyes until she was drowning in darkness. She gulped a deep breath before managing to say stubbornly, 'I'll see as many doctors as you like. We'll gather a full variety of opinions, and you can calculate the odds. But no one can predict of a certainty what will happen. And none of it will change how I intend to spend the rest of my life. I will live it on my terms. And you… you can have all of me or nothing. I won't be an invalid any longer. Not even if it means losing you.'
'I don't take ultimatums,' he said, giving her a little shake. 'Least of all from a woman.'
Win's eyes went blurry, and she damned the rising tears. She wondered in furious despair why fate seemed determined to withhold from her the ordinary life that other people took for granted. 'You arrogant Rom,' she said hoarsely. 'It's not your choice; it's mine. My body. My risk. And it may already be too late. I may have already conceived-'
'No.' He gripped her head and pressed his forehead to hers, his breath striking her lips in bursts of heat. 'I can't do this,' he said raggedly. 'I won't be forced into hurting you.'
'Just love me.' Win wasn't aware that she was crying until she felt his mouth on her face, his throat vibrating with low growls as he licked at her tears. He kissed her desperately, savaging her mouth with a wildness that made her quiver from head to toe. As he crushed his body against hers, she felt the prodding of his arousal even through the bunched layers of their clothes. It sent a shock of response through all her veins, and she felt her intimate flesh prickling, turning wet. She wanted him inside her, to pull him deep and close, to pleasure him until his ferocity was soothed.
She reached down to the stiff length of him, kneading and gripping until he groaned into her mouth.
She pulled her lips free long enough to gasp, 'Take me to bed, Kev. Take me.…'
But he shoved away from her with a vicious curse.
'Kev-'
A scalding glance, and he left the room, the door trembling on its hinges from the abrupt slam.
Chapter Twenty
The early-morning air was fresh and heavy with the promise of rain, a cool breeze sweeping through the half-open window of Cam and Amelia's room. Cam awakened slowly as he felt his wife's voluptuous body snuggling close to his. She always slept in a nightgown made of modest white cambric, with infinite numbers of tucks and tiny ruffles. It never failed to stir him, knowing what splendid curves were concealed beneath the demure garment.
The nightgown had ridden up to her knees during the night. One of her bare legs was hooked over his, her knee resting near his groin. The slight roundness of her stomach pressed against his side. Pregnancy had made her feminine form more ample and delicious. There was a glow about her these days, a burgeoning vulnerability that filled him with an overwhelming urge to protect her. And knowing that the changes in her were caused by his seed, a part of him growing inside her… that was undeniably arousing.
He wouldn't have expected to be this enthralled by Amelia's condition. In the eyes of the Rom, childbirth and all related issues were considered mahrime, polluting events. And since the Irish were notoriously suspicious and prudish when it came to matters of reproduction, there wasn't much on either side of his lineage to justify his delight in his wife's pregnancy. But he couldn't help it. She was the most beautiful and fascinating creature he had ever encountered.
As he patted her hip drowsily, the urge to make love to her was too much to resist. He inched her gown upward and caressed her bare bottom. He kissed her lips, her chin, savoring the fine texture of her skin.
