Page 149 of Kathryn

And then she read them again. And again.

She closed the slim book and looked at Becky.

Becky nodded, even though Katie hadn’t said a word. “Yes, you completely forgot about it, didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought it was better if I did not mention it. I didn’t want you to think too much about it until some time had passed.”

“Do you think I am—” Katie could not make herself say the words.

“I think it highly likely,” Becky said with the certitude of a woman who had seven younger siblings. Becky might be shy about the subject of coupling, but when it came to childbirth, she spoke with the dry practicality of a matron in her eighth decade.

Katie placed her hands over her midriff, which felt the same as always, which was to say soft and relatively flat. “You will tell Court that my time of the month is here.”

“What? But then how will you tell His Grace you were wrong afterward?”

“I will confess when I tell him everything else and admit that I lied so I could finish this business with Jasper.”

Becky pursed her lips and shook her head in disgust.

“Oh, don’t look at me that way. He will be so happy about the prospect of a child that he will forgive me the lie.”

“Something tells me he will be even angrier that you are risking your child meeting with such a villain.”

“Jasper is hardly going to attack me.” Katie dropped the diary into the overstuffed drawer and shoved it hard to close it.

“I think His Grace will beat you when he discovers you’ve gone to meet a man alone. At midnight. And he should beat you.” Becky glared at her.

“Probably,” Katie agreed. Not that all the slapping and pinching and verbal abusing her mother had subjected her to had ever made her obey. She had just been sneakier about disobeying.

“I am your maid and should attend you. It isn’t proper for you to go alone.”

Katie seriously considered the other woman’s offer. She did not want to go alone, and having her maid along might help soothe Dulverton once this was all over. But then she groaned. “You do not ride, Becky. I can hardly put you up before me on Robin.”

“There must be some way—”

“How? Do you propose to run behind me in the darkness?”

“We could walk.”

“That would take three-quarters of an hour each way. No,” she said before Becky could argue. “I shall go alone. I will be fine.”

“But what about your horse?”

“I am no fragile flower, Becky. I can saddle my own mount.”

Becky looked unconvinced. “You have been lucky before, but if you press your—”

“This is the last time, Becks. And then he will be gone.”

“Aye, but not forever. There is nothing to say he can’t come back and ask for more.”

“That is certainly true, but—”

“And where are you going to get that much money?” she interrupted.

“I’m not giving him any money.”