His nostrils flared, his gaze searching, holding hers. “And yet?”
She swallowed. “And yet you changed me. You made me see a different side of the world I believed I had known.”
He raised a brow. “So different you disappeared and ran off to Oxfordshire?”
“I did not run anywhere.” She held his gaze, willing him to see, to understand. “I was an unwed lady who suddenly found herself growing ill in the mornings. Who was hungry and tired. It did not take me long to realize what had happened. I may have been an innocent, but I am not entirely ignorant. I knew I was with child, and so I sought some time. The Winter country house party was the perfect opportunity to escape and plan what I would do next.”
Every word she had just spoken had been the truth.
Dom stared at her, his expression harsh, unforgiving. His dark eyes seeking, plumbing, probing. “You knew you were carrying my child, and instead of coming to me, you fled to Devereaux Winter’s country house party to make merry with a bevy of worthless, spoiled aristocrats?”
The seething tone of his voice was a warning.
Her knees ached, and her belly surged again, but this time she was determined to keep her nausea at bay. She did not move, did not flinch.
“How should I have come to you?” she asked him. “I had already brought myself near enough to ruin by finding my way to your gaming hell on two separate occasions without my family being the wiser. I could not risk another trip.”
“What was your intention, then?” he demanded, jaw rigid, voice harsh. “If what you say is true, you intended to keep my child from me, did you not?”
She scarcely tamped down the urge to flinch away from the sharpness of his words, the bitter accusation. She could not blame him, because he was not far from the mark.
“I had few choices,” she told him evenly, daring him to argue. “I was an unwed lady who found herself in a delicate condition. My father would have never accepted your suit, even if you had been willing to marry me.”
He sneered. “Not good enough for you, am I, Duchess?”
She was all too aware he had settled back into his familiar, mocking routine. Was it easier for him to keep her at a distance when he called her by some nonsensical sobriquet? Adele wondered.
Still, she would not allow him to intimidate her. “I have married you, have I not, Mr. Winter?”
“Call me Dom, damn it.”
“Then call me Adele, curse you.”
They stared at each other, once more at an impasse.
Two stubborn people. Two hearts that seemed to beat as one, when the moment was right. She had to believe there was a reason they had come together. That there was a reason for the child they had created.
“I never supposed I would be a father.”
His admission was raw and hoarse, taking Adele by surprise.
“Nor did I suppose I would be a mother just yet,” she offered softly, an olive branch extended between them.
His hand closed over hers, their fingers entwining. “Were you running from me?”
“I was running from my father,” she confessed. “He would have taken the choice from me. I know what happens to unwed ladies. They are sent to the country, and when they have their lying in, the babes are given to other families so the ladies may return without shame. Few ever know the truth, but the child is gone.”
“Is that not what you wanted, to abandon the child to strangers so you could carry on with your life?”
She knew the subject must be particularly painful, given that his own mother had abandoned him. And not just left him, but sold him to someone who would have harmed him in a fashion she did not even wish to comprehend.
“Of course that is not what I wanted, else I would have already been gone. I traveled away from my parents, my father especially, so I could make the decision that suited me best. It is also why I remained in Oxfordshire even after my sisters had left. I did not merely wish to be present at the Duke and Duchess of Coventry’s nuptials, though I consider the duchess my friend. I intended to find a cottage somewhere, a place where I could raise the babe and never fear being separated from my child.”
His jaw clenched anew. “Instead of coming to me?”
“I did not know you then.”
“And do you know me now?”
