OVULATED: Pregnancy Romance Collection

by Snow Novels

  When I was fifteen, my parents died in a shipwreck. They were coming home from my cousin’s wedding across the ocean. I had a terrible feeling about them leaving, and I begged them not to go, but they were every bit as adventurous as I had become. They went, and they died for it. And I was ultimately left to fend for myself in a world that didn’t understand how I’d been raised.

  Every available man in the country was thrown toward me. At that young age, I hardly knew what an intimate relationship required. I learned quickly. Every encounter I had with a suitor made me feel less like a child, and more like a woman. I had my first kiss with a man twice my age. I wasn’t really given a choice. The first man I saw unclothed was old enough to be my grandfather – who had died before I was born.

  These things that I saw, that I experienced, made me cold. The adventure was sucked out of me, just a life is sucked from an uprooted flower. I grew harsh. I began to hate the world, and every suitor that was sent to my front door.

  The guards didn’t protect me. The kingdom that surrounded me didn’t understand. The king himself made a point to match me with eligible bachelors. Some of them were my age. Some of them were far older – old enough for me to know that my father would have murdered them if they had tried to win me before his death.

  But, to the world, that didn’t matter. And, when it came to money, I was left with few options. My parents had designated their fortune to go to the kingdom – probably doubting that I would need it by the time they passed. The king, unwilling to hand me the fortune that was rightfully mine, instead tried to marry me off. Knowing I would soon starve without a man to care for me, I decided to give some of the younger suitors a chance.

  Sending away older men, however, had its consequences. They would knock on my chamber door, having been escorted inside by guards who refused to listen to my orders, and they wouldn’t leave until I answered. Once, a man knocked down the door, angered by my refusal to pay him any mind.

  One day, it escalated beyond any control. I was preparing for bed when a knock came to my door. I figured it was my night maid, bringing a pitcher of water. But, when I opened the door, I found a suitor that I had recently turned away. I asked him to leave. He pushed me back inside and slammed the door behind him. I screamed, but no one came.

  I was taken unwillingly. Suddenly, I was no longer a virgin. My innocence was dead.

  He left me. I refused to see anyone else. I shut the doors of my castle for months. I didn’t care if I wouldn’t be able to eat. I didn’t care if I died of cholera or the plague. Nothing mattered to me. My spirit, so carefully cultivated by my parents, had been broken.

  Nine months later, I greeted a child. I named her Fiona. She was taken by the king, who told the kingdom I had transgressed into whoredom. The people who had once adored me, now despised me. They would spit at me in the streets. They would glare at me from dark alleyways. When my pregnancy ended, I yearned for the outside world. After the king had his say, I left only for the stables – the only place in the world where I still felt free.

  My only gift from the king was silence about my daughter. He told the kingdom that I was a whore, but he didn’t tell them why. My daughter, a secret to everyone, remained that way. Fiona was sent to an orphanage. There, she lived until I was twenty-two-years-old. I stayed alive by the kindness of my maids – who banded together to supply needle work for me. Doing this work anonymously, I earned enough to survive. My loyal maids followed suit. We survived.

  It was around my twenty-first birthday that I received a call from the Duke of Southgate. He was old enough to be my father, and his demeanor was every bit as disgusting as his hygiene. But his message, however disturbing, offered a chance for me to redeem myself.

  His wife had passed away, and he asked for my hand in marriage. A close friend of the king, he knew about Fiona. He promised that, if I wed him, he would return my daughter to me. He agreed to raise her as his own, and love her like she deserved.

  I didn’t trust the Duke, but I had no choice. His offer was my only hope of escaping a miserable, lonely life – the very life my parents had never wanted me to live in the first place.

  Thus, I ended up at the Duke of Southgate’s estate on a somber October evening, with two simple maids and a few meager outfits to carry along. Everything else had been sold. This was my last chance. If I failed, I had resigned to running away or killing myself – whichever suited me. I hadn’t yet decided which I favored more.

  Walking toward the castle gates, I stumbled. My heart told me to leave. My parents had made me promise, time and time again, that I would marry for love. Now, here I was, marrying for survival. What a sick life I led. What a disappointment I had become.

  But, for the sake of my daughter (and my parents’ granddaughter) I kept walking. I told myself that my parents would be proud of me. Despite the pain I had endured, despite everything I had been through, I hadn’t given up. I was doing the right thing. I was doing the only thing I could do. I was saving Fiona.

  We reached the castle steps. My maids, Ava and Isabella, entered the castle. I hesitated for a moment, trying to find my resolve once more. I was rudely interrupted by a voice from behind me.

  “Well?” It said. “What are you waiting for?”

  I spun around, and laid my eyes upon the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was tall and well-built, with a crop of black hair and bright, green eyes. They glowed, even from six feet away.

  But they glowed with disdain and amusement, not kindness. The hatred I kept locked up in my heart slowly unfurled.

  “You must be Sam McCalligan,” I said softly. “I’ve heard all about you.”

  Indeed, I had. Ava and Isabella had told me everything. Sam was the Duke’s son – and he was nothing more than a rake who enjoyed sleeping around. Men like him enraged me. It was a waste of a soul, to become such a terrible person.

  “You must be the whore my father is marrying. Paige Waterford, isn’t it?”

  My mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water, but I didn’t respond.

  “Pleasure,” he said tonelessly. “Excuse me.”

  He brushed past me and slipped into the halls of the castle. I sighed and followed suit, locking up my hatred for another night. If I let it slip, I could lose my temper. And, if I lost my temper, I would lose my betrothed. And losing him?

  That would ruin everything.

  Chapter 2

  “You’re going to look beautiful,” Ava said, strapping me into a dress the Duke had provided for me to wear to dinner.

  I was to meet the rest of the family tonight, including the Duke’s daughters. I’d heard all about them, and I wasn’t looking forward to being bullied by them for an entire evening.

  Then again, I was going to be their stepmother soon enough – even if the thought disgusted me. The girls (Stephanie, Colette, and Nancy) were older than me by several years. Stephanie, the eldest, was almost thirty-years-old. I doubted even a wedding would make them respect me, especially if they knew about Fiona.

  Still, I had to try.

  “I bet Sam will be there,” Isabella said brightly. “We told you about Sam, didn’t we?”

  “Many times,” I said, raising a hand to signal that I didn’t want to hear any more. “I’ve already met him. Trust me, he’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Are you sure?” Ava said, pulling the final strap tightly – nearly cutting off my ability to breathe properly. “We’ve heard so many stories. If you can trust my friend Holly – she works here in the summer, mind you – he gets around. Sometimes with more than one woman, if you know what I mean.”

  I sniffed in disgust.

  “I have no interest in talking about him anymore,” I said, shutting down the conversation. “If he’s in attendance tonight, I’ll avoid him. I don’t understand why any woman would want to sleep with him, given his extraordinary lack of manners.”

  “It’s more about the love making than the manners, miss,” Ava said, blushing deeply. “I apolo
gize – that wasn’t my place to say.”

  The girls gathered their things and left my chamber. I was sad to see them go. They would never know it, but their company had kept me alive when I seriously considered the sweet release of death. It wasn’t proper to treat a maid like a friend, but I considered Ava and Isabella to be dear friends of mine. If they said Sam was good in bed, he probably was.

  But that didn’t change my sorry opinion of him. He was a scoundrel and a rake, nothing more. Any decent woman would spit in his eye before going to bed with him. And to make love for the first time with someone like that ... how could it even be considered “making love”? I’d never felt anything like that before. And, now that I was marrying the Duke, I doubted I ever would.

  I slipped on a modest pair of slippers and stepped into the hallway. A guard escorted me to the dining room. There, I found the Duke feasting with his three daughters and (of course) Sam.

  They all looked up when I entered. I was wearing a silver gown – quite thin, if I was allowed an opinion. But, since the outfit was for the Duke, my options were slim. At least the dinner was fairly private.

  I took my seat next to the Duke. I was given a plate of warm chicken and potatoes. I ate slowly, precisely, neatly – just as I’d been taught. There wasn’t much conversation. Other than a gruff introduction by the Duke when I arrived, we ate in silence.

  Until, that is, Sam began his display of abysmal mannerisms. First, he ate like a pig – never pausing to breathe or speak to anyone. He didn’t even make eye contact. Instead, he inhaled his food and reached for more. His father cleared his throat halfway through the show, but Sam didn’t pay the warning any mind.

  Over the course of dinner, Sam became increasingly worse. He slurped his wine, tapped his foot, and looked shrewdly at the women bringing the food. I could tell the Duke was becoming infuriated by his son’s poor showing, but he didn’t break until Sam openly grabbed the backside of one of the maids serving the table. She gave a squeak as she left the room.

  “How dare you?”

  I turned to face the Duke. He was standing now, his face turning purple.

  “In front of my bride-to-be! Do you have no respect?”

  “Respect?” Sam stood from the table and shook his head. “You’re marrying a whore, and you talk to me about respect.”

  Sam stalked from the room. I stared as he passed. The Duke sat back in his seat and tried to regain his composure. The girls began talking amongst themselves. I was, of course, not included in the conversation.

  “Excuse yourself and prepare your chamber.”

  The voice whispered in my ear, and it belonged to the Duke.

  “I’ll be visiting tonight.”

  I nodded and left the table, thanking the girls for a lovely evening (even though we’d hardly shared two sentences with one another).

  As I was escorted to my chamber, I thought only of Sam. When he called me a whore, he looked directly at me. But his eyes weren’t filled with hate this time – nor animosity. They weren’t filled with amusement or disdain. They were filled with jealousy. They were filled with wanting. Almost as if he were acting out because he wanted ... because he thought ...

  Had I imagined it?

  I snapped my mind away from the notion. I was going to be Sam McCalligan’s stepmother in less than a week. Daydreaming about him was a waste of my time – and discovery of my thoughts after the wedding would likely mean exile from the country.

  I shut down my feelings.

  And I waited for the Duke.

  Chapter 3

  I didn’t move after the Duke left me – not for a very long time. Instead, I stared at the ceiling and I thought about my life. I thought about everything I’d been through, and how I’d ended up having relations with a man (for the second time ever) in a distant chamber for no other reason than wanting to be reunited with my daughter (a product of my first relation with a man). The thought made me want to laugh, but I felt too depressed even to giggle.

  It was horrible. The Duke smelled of whisky and old cheese. His breath was nothing in comparison to his body, which was bumpy and wrinkled and soft. He had just enough strength to hold me down when I squirmed, but not enough strength to make me feel safe.

  This was the man I would spend the rest of my life with? I suddenly understood, in full meaning, why my parents wanted me to leave the country. I understood, for the first time, what they meant when they made me promise to marry for love. How terrible would it be to wake up next to the Duke, every single morning for the rest of my life? How terrible would it be to allow him to take him, as much as he wanted, whenever he wanted?

  And, even worse, came the realization that the Duke knew I didn’t love him. He knew I didn’t want to marry him. He knew I was only accepting his proposal to be reunited with my daughter. He knew, when I squirmed, that I was disgusted. He knew, when I shook, that I was violated. He knew that I was afraid. Yet, he pushed me back into place without a second thought. I was nothing more than a prisoner. A whore.

  All at once, I wanted to leave the castle and travel back home, where the most innocent years of my life took place. But I knew it was impossible. Not only would the guards stop me, but the king would surely exile me if I ran. Not to mention my old home, my servants, and everything that came with it was long gone. It had been sold. I wouldn’t be welcomed, even if I returned.

  I was utterly trapped.

  Still, I could leave the country on my own terms. I could steal a horse and ride for miles until ... until ...

  But there was nowhere for me to go. There was no one to take me in. Here, though I was violated, I was safe. It made little sense to me, but it was the truth. Here, I had a chance of seeing my daughter again. Away, I had nothing.

  I stood and pulled on my night shoes. Even if the guards would get angry, I had the right to roam the castle grounds. At the very least, the world could grant me that much.

  Stepping out into the night was a refreshing reminder that the outside world existed. I looked at the stars from the garden, praying that I would someday be able to see them from a different pasture. It was cold outside, and I wished for a man’s warmth. I knew, though, that the Duke was far from warm. Any comfort from him would be cold, hardhearted, and cruel. I would spend the rest of my life in that garden, and comfort would never come. That was something I just couldn’t accept. I knew it was the right thing to do. But, at the moment, it hardly seemed right.

  I took comfort in hope ... in the thought that Fiona would soon be with me. And, even if the Duke couldn’t keep me warm, her presence would.

  It was around this moment that the moaning began. The source was stationed several yards ahead of me. I thought the voice belonged to Ava, but I couldn’t be sure. The idea scared me. What if she was hurt?

  “Ava?” I whispered, stepping forward.

  Behind a bush, I found Ava – but she wasn’t alone. She was accompanied by Sam. Neither of them were dressed. Breasts exposed and hair undone, Ava was unlike I had ever seen her. They were entwined, Sam pushing against her.

  I wanted to run, but my feet were glued to the ground. I knew, if they saw me, I would be more embarrassed for Ava than I had ever been for myself. But they didn’t pay me any mind.

  Still, this wasn’t something I wanted to see. I stumbled backward and ran, finally finding my footing.

  I had come to the garden for comfort. Instead, I left with a mixture of curiosity, disgust, and regret. Curiosity at the way Ava and Sam had been together. Disgust at the distasteful choice of setting. Regret at not being the one with Sam.

  It was the last part that hit me the hardest. Despite the fact that he was the epitome of everything I hated, I wanted to be with him. And, for whatever reason, I couldn’t shut that feeling off.

  No matter how hard I tried.

  Chapter 4

  I awoke the next morning exhausted from tossing and turning after the previous night’s events. I wanted to be furious with Ava, but I had no right to be ang
ry. She had been taken advantage of – just like every other maid in the castle had likely been at some point. I doubted Sam would take her again. And, if he did, he was only trying to escape a lonely night.

  There was no feeling, no emotion. And, with a man like Sam, a girl could easily get the wrong idea. With a man like Sam, a girl could easily fall in love before she knew it was happening. I hoped that wasn’t happening to Ava. However unprofessional she had been, she was human. I didn’t want to see her get hurt.

  In Sam, I found a target for my fury. How dare he take advantage of a girl that way? How dare he look at me as though he wanted me, then turn around and take someone else? How dare he sleep around? How dare he ... exist?

  I knew I wasn’t being fair, but I didn’t care. I was starting to develop real feelings for my future son-in-law. And the worst part? It wasn’t even disgusting, because my son-in-law was older than me.

  The whole situation made me want to scream. But I had no choice. I had to marry the Duke, however disgusting he was. If I ever wanted to see my daughter again, my dear Fiona, I had no choice.

  I dressed and escorted myself to the stables. The Duke had promised me as many morning rides as I liked, and I intended to take him up on the offer. It was just about the only thing I could do unaccompanied. Apparently, he didn’t think I was much of a flight risk, either. He knew the stakes as well as I did.

  I picked a lone mare and thrust myself onto her back. She had ridden many times before. I could tell, because she wasn’t afraid of my feet. Instead, she followed their directions firmly. Soon, we were off – traveling into the green pastures and the trails beyond. I hated the Duke and his castle. But his castle was home to some of the most beautiful nature I had ever seen. For that, I was grateful.

  Halfway into my ride, I realized I had left my ring at the stables. I had removed it before boarding the mare – being pricked by the ring would have scared her immensely. The ring was a token from the Duke. If he found me without it, he would be furious. We turned back.