Why was she so calm? He’d been more anxious in his search for her than he’d ever been in his life.
“Violet, I’d do nearly anything for you.”
That was the closest he was willing to make as a declaration of his heart, but once they returned to Laswell and Eardly had been handed over to a magistrate, he’d proclaim himself and hope she’d accept his suit.
He supposed he could kiss her until she agreed, except the last time he’d kissed her, she’d asked him to leave.
Well, that certainly didn’t bode well for his future.
He’d do nearlyanything for her!
Of course, they were friends, and he was a gentleman, Violet reminded herself before she began to read more into his words than he probably intended.
Now that the rush of excitement from her kidnapping, escape, and shooting of Eardly had passed and Violet was confident in her safety, her body relaxed. She’d not realized how anxious she’d been, nor had she recognized the signs of the strain in her body and tightness in her shoulders, but suddenly it was all gone, and she was weak with exhaustion.
Tiredness had never come over her so quickly before, and she raised a hand to cover the yawn.
It was logical that she would be tired, as she hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, but the sudden heaviness of her eyes was similar to that of being given a sleeping draught.
In a blink, she righted herself after leaning into Lord Ferrard. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remain awake.
He took up the reins in one hand then put an arm around her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” This was not proper at all, yet the comfort was soothing and relaxed her further.
“Sleep, Violet.” He murmured, then kissed the top of her head. “I’ll not let anything else happen to you.”
When next she woke, it was to the cries of a baby. She blinked up at the ceiling and took in the room. This was where she’d slept when she came to the dower house. But why was there a…Miranda had her baby!
Violet scrambled from the bed so quickly that she had to stop and brace herself as a wave of dizziness came over her.
How had she gotten here? How long had she been asleep? The last thing she remembered was shooting Eardly, then Emory pulling her close as she rested her head against him.
Had she slept all the way back to Laswell?
Though in truth, they’d only been a couple of hours away, but still, shouldn’t she have awakened once they reached their destination?
How had she gotten to this chamber? Had she walked in her sleep? Had she done so before?
If so, that was a rather alarming concern.
Violet sank down on the bed, surprised at how shaken and weak she was. After placing a hand against her forehead and cheek, she was assured that she was not ill, so why was she lightheaded?
Why had she gone to bed in her clothing?
Clearly she must have been too tired to undress, which could explain why she was weak. She hadn’t eaten since supper the night before. In response to her thoughts, her stomach tightened with pain.
Yes, that was the reason, and as soon as she had sustenance, most certainly she would be more the thing.
Rising, she strode across the floor, not bothering to put on her boots, as the effort was beyond her, and opened the door to the corridor. The babe was no longer crying, but Violet decided that she’d first eat, then she’d meet her new nephew. Though, she supposed it could be a niece, but Father and Wesley insisted that it would be a son, as if they had control over such matters.
Violet shook the wayward thoughts from her mind.
It mattered not if the baby was male or female, so long as it was healthy and Miranda survived.
Goodness, such a horrible thought, but childbirth was dangerous.
“Violet?”
