Moving was painful. The constant pain that shot up his side everytime he tried to move, made it impossible for Race to do anything but remain in bed for several days, forcing Bianca to remain by his side.

He hated seeing her like this —strained and tired. Her migraines were returning —he could tell by the frown that ceased her face in odd moments of the day and by the way she would clamp her lips shut in between sentences as if trying to stifle a painful sigh— and her appetite was leaving. Of course he only found out about her diminishing appetite because Noah complained, but he as the days progressed and his pains began to ease, he began to notice the changes in her as well.

His eyes ran over the freckles that stained her back. They were new, and had certainly only appeared a few days ago. It was either that, or he had simply only noticed them a few days ago. And were they spreading? Slowly, his eyes moved down the length of her arm as she slipped out of her dress. It seemed to him like they were, for some were now littered on her shoulders. Her neck also seemed longer —no doubt as a result of her minimal intake of food. And her shift? It was certainly loose around the waist, but it seemed to him like it was tight around the breasts. As a matter of fact —he thought as she slipped out of her shift as well— her breasts did seem larger. Unless of course, it only seemed that way because the rest of her body seemed thinner?

“Will you keep staring at me all evening?”

He lifted his eyes to find her smiling.

He shrugged, sitting up straighter with a little difficulty. “I am afraid, my darling, it is the only beautiful view I get nowadays, considering my dire situation of being trapped here.”

She giggled, crossing the room and settling on the edge of the bed by his side. She touched his face. “Oh Race, I'm simply happy you're alive. And, if all goes well, we will be back home really soon.”

He touched her arm that rested on his face. “I am afraid until Lord Wilson is caught, I shall not rest easy.”

A small frown settled on her face. “I do not believe he is in London, or England. Did not Camden tell you? The Constable believes him to have absconded. I only wish for you to let the matter rest, I would hate to lose you to his gun.”

“I would hate for him to get away with his crime.”

She released his face, her eyes falling to her knees. “I do not believe it possible, but I wish for you to forget it, to not look at me and be reminded of...”

Shifting forward, he placed his hand against the side of her face, halting her flow of words.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to him, tears glistening in them. “Perhaps you do not think you will get over what happened until he is dead? Perhaps you do not see me the same way you did, before I told you what happened?”

Her words tore at his heart. Pushing himself forward until he was sitting beside her, he swept her tears away. “Do you think I love you less than I did the night you told me what happened?”

She sniffed, nodding. “It certainly changes things. Not only did Lord Wilson ruin me, he tried to kill you as well.”

“He tried, yet he failed.”

She bowed her head. “He succeeded with me. It is all my fault, Race, I'm sorry.”

Reaching out, he lifted her chin up, until he was staring into her watery eyes. “Do you remember the first time I told you how I felt? The first time I said I loved you?” He waited for her nod. “It was right after I confessed to kissing Lady Carla.” He watched her for signs that she still held a grudge against him for his mistake, but all he saw in her eyes were tears. “It was one of two confessions,” Sighing, he sat up straighter as her brow rose in question. “I knew what happened to you that evening, Bianca.”

“What?” She shook her head.

“I knew the second you were brought home and you were bruised. The Physician told me.”

She frowned. “You knew?” It was a low whisper.

Nodding, “It was my fault. If I hadn't left you alone... I should not have gone to the ball. When you found the bruises, I told you they were gotten from an accident on the stairs.”

“Race, what do you mean?!”

Leaning in closer, he took hold of her face. “I mean I fell in love with you in spite of what Lord Wilson did.”

“Why didn't you tell me?!” She made to rise, but he held her wrist captive, pulling her back down beside him. Her tears fell unrestrained then. “You lied to me.” She clasped her hand over her mouth, hunching forward.

He sat still, watching her cry beside him. Several minutes passed before she rose to her feet once more, turning from him and making her way out of the room.

Race settled into the empty bed that evening, several thoughts running through his mind, most of which were troubled thoughts about Bianca's whereabouts. It had been several hours since she left, why wasn't she back?

He must have fallen asleep, for the gentle sound of the wooden door swinging open, reached him.

The scent of Bianca's skin brushed against his nose the second she settled into bed beside him.

Shifting closer, he wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the pain in his arm as he buried his nose in her hair and drank of her fragrance.

“Are you done crying?” He whispered gently into her ear.

“I do not wish to speak to you.” She stiffened.

“But you returned,” Pushing her hair aside, he kissed her neck. “I shall assume you wish to be near me.”

“You lied to me, Race,” Hurt laced every word. “When I asked about those bruises, you had me believing I had fallen down the stairs.” Pushing away from him, she turned fully to him, tears filling her eyes.

“What then shall you have me do, Bea? Apologize? Beg your forgiveness for not telling you the horrible details of what was done to you?” He kept his voice leveled and his eyes fixed on her, even if all he wanted to do in that second was yell in frustration.

Her lips trembled, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

Sighing softly, Race shook his head. “There are many things about my past I wish to change —my father's decision to bring forth an illegitimate child, my ill fortune of being that illegitimate child, my poor finances, my despicable behavior with Lady Carla— but lying to you about what happened that evening, is not one of them. I would have carried that secret to my grave if you hadn't remembered. Perhaps you would like to cry about your lying husband tonight? But tomorrow, when you wake up, I hope a smile shall claim your face when you finally realize that your husband is not a liar, but a man willing to employ the services of a lie, to keep his wife from the pains of the truth.”

Turning sharply to the side, he reclaimed his position on the bed, his back to her and his eyes fixed on the flames in the fireplace.

Images of her teary face clouded his mind, but Race felt no remorse, for he did what he did to protect her. He loved her, now more than ever. She would see that —he told himself, closing his eyes. Tomorrow, she would realize just home much he loved her.

His eyelids settled on themselves, when something brushed against his bare back. Stiffening, he let out a soft breath as Bianca's head rested on his back.

“I know.”

“You were supposed to only realize that when you wake up tomorrow morning.”

She giggled softly, her arm curling around his chest. “I have always known.”

He turned fully to her then, drawing her into his arms. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her collarbone. She sighed, her palms traveling up his bare chest and causing a low groan to form in his throat. His hands slipped down her neck, brushing her breast. Indeed, they were bigger.

Leaning back slightly, he stared at her. “Bea?”

“Hm?” She shifted close, claiming his lips and filling it with warmth.

Grinning, he drew her further against himself, their kiss deepening. “I think you're pregnant.”

She stiffened, her hands pausing in their perusal of his back. Pulling away, her eyes widened in horror. “I am?!”

His smile widening, he claimed her lips once more. “Either that,” He murmured lovingly amidst several kisses. “Or we should really make one tonight.”

*

Bianca was pregnant. According to the Physician, she was several weeks pregnant —even if he was unable to put a number on the weeks.

Tears filling her eyes, she nodded to the Physician's words and waited until he had left the drawing room, before going over to Race's bedchamber. He didn't know it yet —for she hadn't mentioned her plans to have the Physician examine her after he was done examining Race— but the second he mentioned his speculations to her a week ago, everything began to make sense to her; her sore breasts, freckled skin, inability to eat, and short temper at Camden, even if she knew he was only trying to help.

She sat in suspense for an entire week, until the Physician paid Race a visit. Once he was done examining Race's injuries, he was making his way out of the building, when she pulled him into the drawing room and made him examine her as well.

Camden was in the room with Race when she entered. He turned around to look at her, before turning back to Race. “I better leave. I might visit sometime next week, but I cannot promise.”

“You are leaving?” She crossed the room.

He turned back to her, nodding. “Beatrice will most likely have the baby any moment from now and I shall certainly be incapable of forgiving myself if I am absent when the child is born. I shall leave you two here for however long you choose to remain. Perhaps you might want to take a break from Camden and remain here for a little while?”

Bianca's eyes traveled the large room. While the purple draperies that covered the two windows centered by the fireplace, and the pristine Queen sized bed were lovely, she couldn't help but notice how outdated they were.

“Thank you, Lord Camden.” She nodded and waited until he was done saying goodbye to Race and out of the room, before settling beside him.

Nervous, she stared at her hands for several seconds. Perhaps it would be unwise to tell him she was pregnant when she wasn't certain she wouldn't lose this one again? And if she did, she wasn't certain she wanted to put him through all that he went through the first time with the first pregnancy. She didn't want to hurt him, or disappoint him. She wanted to carry a child to term like Lady Beatrice, and see the glimmer of joy in Race's eyes at the mere thought of being proclaimed a father in only a few days, like Lord Camden.

“Bea?”

“I am with child.” She stifled a sob, bowing her head further down as her vision clouded with tears.

“How is this bad news?” Race sounded confused.

“Perhaps I shall lose this one like the last?” She raised her eyes to him, shaking her head.

He frowned, his eyes shifting briefly to rest on her stomach, before moving back up to rest on her face. “Perhaps it is a boy? Or a girl? Or both? Perhaps it is several of both?” He quirked a brow, a small smile tugging on the edges of his lips as he straightened, leaning close and pulling her into his embrace. Settling in his arms, she closed her eyes, her ear pressed to his chest as she listened to the rhythmic pounding of his heart.

“Perhaps I am unable to have children?” She whispered solemnly, the scent of his skin filling her nostrils.

“Oh, but we will have children, Bea,” Pulling away slightly, he leaned down and kissed her nose. “A beautiful baby girl, and she shall be as beautiful as her mother.”

A small smile claimed her lips, as the memory of the evening they had this same conversation filled her mind. Tipping her head up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips settling on his. “Or a boy,” She whispered breathlessly. “Like his father.”

His palm came to settle on her cheek. Pulling away, she raised her eyes to him. “But whatever happens Bea, we will always have each other.” He whispered softly against her lips.