“Mandie. What’s happening? What can I do?” Enoch’s voice held a tinge of frustration. Or maybe desperation.
She forced out a slow breath and summoned a smile to calm him. “All is well. I likely just need rest.”
He sat back in his chair, but his brows still gathered in a knot. “Mary Jenkins used to talk about fluttering in her belly when she was sick during her first months with…”
He trailed off, but of course he meantwith child. One didn’t speak of such things among mixed company. Especially not when she was lying in bed with him sitting in her bed chamber. Heat flushed up her neck. She should send him out.
But a new thought slid in to cover that one. Mary Jenkins felt fluttering in her middle when she waswith child.Panic surged through her, but she tried not to let it show. Nicholas had been gone three years. There was no way she could be…
Right?
She’d not been with another man. Had she? Of course, she hadn’t.
But this fear. This memory her body held of needing to escape. Had something happened?
A fragment of memory surfaced.
Not a clear picture, but a feeling—phantom hands gripping her arms, the press of a body against hers, the stench of cologne and spirits heavy in the air.
She squeezed her eyes shut as bile rose in her throat. She could barely breathe past the pressure on her chest.
“Mandie? Mandie, what’s wrong?” Enoch’s voice sounded in the distance, panic wrapping his tone.
She couldn’t bear to face him. Not with the possibility…
But she had to.
She drew in a breath, forcing it to stay slow as she opened her eyes.
Enoch’s blue eyes bored into hers, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as if to keep himself from reaching for her. “Tell me what’s happening. Please.”
She swallowed hard. She had to tell him something. That she’d found another memory. But as she opened her mouth to speak, emotion surged through her, choking off her voice. Tears stung her eyes and spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Enoch made a low sound in his throat, almost a growl. He leaned forward, resting his hand on hers. “Mandie, please. Let me help.” His grip wrapped around hers, warm, calloused. So strong.
The touch only unleashed more emotion. She shook her head, a sob catching in her throat. How could she voice the horrible suspicion taking root in her mind?
Dear God, is it possible?Could she be carrying a child conceived in violence? The thought made her stomach heave anew.
Enoch’s grip tightened. “I’m going to send for the doctor. All right? Mandie?” So much worry weighted his voice.
She needed to say something. To calm him. It wasn’t fair to worry him so. This was her weight to carry.
She sniffed and forced her breathing to slow as she met his gaze. “I’m all right. Truly. It might be good to bring a doctor though.”
He held her gaze, and so much emotion swirled in his eyes, she could hardly read it all. Worry, for certain. Other things too, but she didn’t have the energy to unpack everything.
He cleared his throat, and his voice rumbled deep when he spoke. “I’ll send Robert now. Will you be all right until I come back?”
She nodded, the motion making tears drip from her chin to her neck. “I’ll be fine. Truly. I just...I think I’ll try to sleep.” She desperately needed time alone to process all this.
He looked torn, like he wasn’t sure he could believe her.
She couldn’t tell him her suspicion. What would he think?
At last, he gave her hand a small squeeze and pulled back as he stood. “I’ll leave you alone then. Can I get you anything? Tea? Biscuits?” He paused for her answer, his height towering over the bed.
She shook her head. “Nothing, thank you.”
