“I haven’t begun to take the liberties I intend taking.”
William reached for Christina, but she ran to put the big chair between them.
“I must ask you to leave,” she said curtly.
“Is that any way to act, baby doll? I’ll take good care of you. I’m not a rich man, but I can certainly afford a mistress. After a while, if you’re a good little girl, I might even marry you.”
“You must be crazy!”
He laughed. She could see the lustful desire in his face. He shoved the chair aside and moved forward with his arms outstretched. Christina turned to run, but it was too late. William grabbed her around the waist and jerked her back against him.
His wicked laughter infuriated her. His hands explored her breasts and belly while she struggled to get free.
“Do you like it rough? Is that what you’re used to, baby doll? One more man isn’t going to matter after all those stinking desert outlaws you’ve spread your legs for. Tell me—how many were there? And which one sired the bastard you’re carrying? I’m sure the little fellow won’t mind if I sample his mama’s goods.”
Christina froze at his last words. She stood perfectly still. Not even a breath escaped her, and the words kept ringing in her ears.Bastard you’re carrying bastard. A baby!
“So you’ve decided to be reasonable. Well, you’ll enjoy having a man after all the scum you’re used to.”
Suddenly Christina burst out laughing. It had been a long time since she’d heard the sound of her own laughter. William swung her around roughly and shook her by the shoulders.
“What the hell’s so funny?” he demanded. But she laughed hysterically, tears running down her cheeks.
And then they both heard the sound of John’s carriage pulling to a halt in front of the building.
“You bitch!” William whispered furiously, pushing her from him.
“Yes,” she replied gaily. “I certainly can be a bitch when the situation warrants it.”
“I’m not through with you yet—there will be another time,” he said coldly.
“Oh—I doubt that, William.”
John walked into the room, his eyes going first to Christina’s amused face, then to William’s scowling expression. He wondered briefly what had happened, but refrained from asking.
“Still here, William? Well, it’s early—care to join me in a drink?”
“Well, I—”
“Oh, go ahead, William,” Christina cut in playfully. She hoped he was squirming. “I’m going to retire, anyway. It’s been a most unusual evening. Not quite enjoyable, but informative. ’Night, John.”
She turned and went to her room. She closed the door, leaned against it, and could still hear the men in the drawing room.
“What did she mean by that last remark?” John asked.
“I have no idea.”
Christina pushed herself away from the door and twirled around and around, just as she used to do when she was a little girl. Her skirt floating around her and pins flying from her hair, she continued twirling until she reached her bed. She fell backward onto it, giggling in sheer delight. She felt her belly with both hands, searching for proof of William’s words.
There was only the slightest little bulge—no proof at all. Had William only presumed her pregnant because she’d lived four months with a man?
Christina jumped off the bed and quickly lit the lamp. She ran to the windows overlooking the street and snatched the curtains closed. Then she tore off her gown and chemise and stood perfectly naked before the full-length mirror in the corner.
She examined her body, but could see no change. Turning sideways, Christina pushed her stomach out as far as it would go, which wasn’t much, and then sucked it in. There was her proof. Her stomach wouldn’t go in as far as it used to. But she frowned, for that could just be added pounds instead of a baby. After all, her appetite had increased this last month. She had to think this out.
She blew out the light and crawled into bed, pulling only a light cover over her unclad body. It was funny. Now that she could wear a nightdress again, she no longer wanted to. She was used to sleeping with Philip and having no clothes between them.
But if she were carrying Philip’s child, there had to be other signs. It hit her like an explosion. All the signs were there, but she had put them aside with excuses. The dizziness, the nausea, she had blamed on the weather. She had missed her monthly time twice, but had reasoned it was because she was so unhappy. She had missed her time before, when her parents died.
