Page 16 (1/2)

She was counting again

Counting, always counting

Seven days since her last menses

Six until she ht be fertile

Twenty-four to thirty-one until she ain, provided she didn’t conceive

Which she probably wouldn’t

It had been three years since she’d h her courses thirty-three ti little hatch marks on a piece of paper she kept tucked away in her desk, in the far back corner of the middle drahere Michael wouldn’t see

It would pain him Not because he wanted a child, which he did, but rather because she wanted one so desperately

And he wanted it for her Maybe even more than he wanted one himself

She tried to hide her sorrow She tried to smile at the breakfast table and pretend that it didn’t s, but Michael always saw it in her eyes, and he seeh the day, kiss her brow more often

She tried to tell herself that she should count her blessings And she did Oh, how she did Every day She was Francesca Bridgerton Stirling, Countess of Kil families—the one she’d been born into and the one she’d acquired—twice—through e

She had a husband ent, and as desperately in love with her as she ith hihts an adventure She loved to talk with him, to ith hilances while they were each pretending to read a book

She was happy Truly, she was And if she never had a baby, at least she had this man—this wonderful, marvelous, miraculous man who understood her in a way that left her breathless

He knew her He knew every inch of her, and still, he never ceased to ae her

She loved him With every breath in her body, she loved him

And h Most of the tih

But late at night, after he’d fallen asleep, and she still lay awake, curled up against him, she felt an emptiness that she feared neither of them could ever fill She would touch her abdo her with its refusal to do the one thing she wantedelse

And that hen she cried

There had to be a na Francesca disappear over the hillside toward the Kilmartin family plot There had to be a name for this particular brand of pain, of torture, really All he wanted in the world was to s—peace, health, prosperity for his tenants, right-minded men in the seat of Prime Minister for the next hundred years But when all was said and done, what he wanted was Francesca’s happiness

He loved her He always had It was, or at least it should have been, thein the world He loved her Period And he would have moved heaven and earth, if it were only in his power, to make her happy

Except the one thing she wanted ht so valiantly to hide her pain about, he could not seeive her

A child

And the funny thing was, he was beginning to feel the same pain

At first, he had felt it just for her She wanted a child, and therefore he wanted one as well She wanted to be a mother, and therefore he wanted her to be one He wanted to see her holding a child, not because it would be his child, but because it would be hers