‘Pregnancy can do that to a lassie. You don’t take sugar, do you?’
Pregnant?Giselle gasped and clamped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Shecouldn’tbe. They’d taken precautions. That first time had been a bit lax, when they’d got carried away, but even then, Rocco had realised in time and—
Pregnant? No,no way.
‘Here you go, hen. Drink that, then see how you feel. I could fetch you some dry toast to settle your tummy, or some crackers?’
Cook held a cup out to her. Giselle took it, stammering her thanks. She wasn’t pregnant. Shewasn’t. Overwrought, that’s what she was. She hadn’t been right since she’d discovered Mhairi in the parlour. And after that, there’d been the worry about the craft centre, and the trauma of saying farewell to the man she loved, followed by her subsequent broken heart. And hot on the heels of that was Rocco’s reappearance and his confession that he loved her. And if that wee lot wasn’t enough, she now had the prospect of moving seven hundred miles away and starting a new life in a strange place. No wonder she was out of sorts!
Anyway, she couldn’t be pregnant because her period was due any day now. She had all the usual signs and symptoms: sore boobs, tired, moody…
Giselle froze. Those signs and symptoms were the same as the early stages of pregnancy, and she realised with growing dismay that her period should have started two weeks ago.
Oh God, shewaspregnant.
Aw, shite.
‘You need to do a test,’ Izzy told her. They were sitting outside thebothy enjoying the morning sun. Rather, Izzy was enjoying it; Gisellecouldn’t give a fig what the weather was doing.
She’d just finished telling her sister everything that had happened yesterday, from the sale of the castle being back on because of the inheritance tax situation, to her moving to London to live with Rocco. And finally, she’d confided to Izzy that she was pregnant.
‘You can’t be sure until you’ve done one,’ Izzy insisted.
‘I’m sure. My period is late and I’ve got all the signs.’
‘How late is late?’
‘Two weeks.’
Her sister shuffled her chair closer and put an arm around her.
Giselle leant into her awkwardly, her chin wobbling.
‘It’s not the end of the world,’ Izzy said.
It was, though. Her twin didn’t understand. There was no way Giselle was going to move to London now. She didn’t want to bring a child upthere.
‘Rocco loves you and you love him,’ Izzy continued. ‘OK, maybe the timing isn’t ideal, but you’ll be fine. And if you need me to stay or come back and help you with the move, I will.’
‘I’m not moving. Not now.’
Izzy gaped at her. ‘You’re not? But why?’
‘I want my baby to grow up here, surrounded by nature, not in a concrete jungle.’
Her sister burst out laughing. ‘I don’t think where Rocco lives is a concrete jungle. I believe it’s quite posh. It’s not called HollandParkfor nothing.’
‘It isn’t Skye.’
‘Duh! Obviously. But as parts of London go, it’s one of the nicer ones.’
‘What about wide-open spaces, fresh air…’
‘I’m sure there are parks – lots of them.’
Giselle didn’t want parks. She wanted Skye for her baby. Her andRocco’sbaby.How will he feel when he finds out he’s going to be a father?she wondered. She honestly didn’t know.
‘Where can we get a pregnancy test from?’ Izzy asked. ‘Is there anywhere in Duncoorie?’
