Heath lays a soft kiss on my lips, then jerks his head to the door. “They’ll be wondering where you are.”
“But not you?”
“I need a minute.” He nods to his crotch, and heat blooms across my cheeks. His hand drifts over my cheek. “I’ll see you at your concert, if not sooner.”
“You’re coming to watch me play?” My voice sounds small.
He nods. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He kisses me, then pulls back and jerks his chin to the door. “Go.”
I bite my lip, nodding, then slip out through the door.
The hallway is deserted, thankfully, and I make my way back to my seat in time for the third course.
Maggie leans over. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” I answer, giving her my first genuine smile of the evening.
My sister’s eyes widen. “Were you…?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ada!”
“You sound like Mother.”
“Can you blame me?”
I giggle, forking the food on my plate and taking a bite without even knowing what I’m eating. It’s not until I glance up to see a dark look in Count Gregory’s eyes that my smile fades. I eat the rest of my meal in silence.
My eyes betray me though, drifting to the empty seat where the Duke of Blythe used to sit.
He doesn’t return.
16
Heath
A pair of beady black eyes see me slip out of the restroom, and a cold shot rushes down my spine. What else did those eyes see? Whoever it is disappears around a corner, and I glance down the hallway toward the dining room.
Letting out a sigh, I drop my chin to my chest.
I shouldn’t be here. Count Gregory sees my presence as an act of war. He must have heard rumblings about what I’m planning. How I want to expose what he did to my brother. How I’m planning to expose every bit of fraud and misplaced philanthropy.
Last time I saw her, I got a call from the King to deliver the evidence I’d gathered against Count Gregory. I had no choice—I had to leave. No one refuses the King.
Now I know the Crown is on my side. They have investigative powers I don’t possess, and I know his days are numbered.
I’ll be able to destroy this man, just like he destroyed my family.
But then, there’s Ada.
Dancing with him. Letting him kiss her fingers. Giving him smiles that should only belong to me.
One woman shouldn’t derail my plans, but I can’t help myself. Count Gregory’s life is going to implode, and I don’t want her to be collateral damage.
Instead of heading back to dinner, I give my apologies to the footmen at the exit and leave the building. It’s the safest thing to do. It’s the only way I can protect her until I can bring the full weight of the law down on Count Gregory.
But damn, it hurts. I wish I could take Ada with me and protect her from all this.
Letting my driver take me away, I stare at the dark castle behind me, hoping she’ll forgive me for leaving.
17
Ada
The morning after Count Gregory’s dinner party, I wake up and feel so nauseous I puke, then let out a sigh and rest my head against the cool porcelain.
No gold inlay in the Belcourt toilets, by the way. Why do I feel so horrible? I didn’t even drink last night.
Groaning, I check the date on my phone. Count the days since my last period. Then, I count them again.
I’m late.
My heart thumps. Panic floods my veins as I stare at my screen. I couldn’t be…?
I can’t even say the word. I can’t even think the word. No. No, it’s not possible. It’s a stomach bug. I’m stressed about the Duke and Count Gregory and about my last piano performance this year, and I’ve been having more sex than usual. My hormones are all messed up.
I’m on the pill, for crying out loud!
But as I crawl up from the bathroom floor and stare at myself in the mirror, I suck in a breath. My gaze drifts to the toilet.
I puked once recently, too, just an hour or less after taking a birth control pill. Then I had unprotected sex with the Duke of Blythe.
My breath comes in short, staggered gasps. Oh my goodness. Oh no. No, no, no.
I could be pregnant with the Duke of Blythe’s baby.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn away. I can’t look at myself. This isn’t happening. There’s some other explanation. Food poisoning. A virus. A bug. My period will start as soon as I calm down. It has to.
My phone buzzes.
Heath: Morning, beautiful.
Any other day, that text would send a thrill of excitement coursing through my veins. He’s not ignoring me. He heard me last night, and he’s showing me he wants to talk to me.
Now, though?
Terror. Cold, black fear.
I type back a quick good morning and stuff my phone in my pocket, slipping a baggy hoodie over my head and grabbing the biggest sunglasses I own. I slip down the back stairs and get in my car, driving to a pharmacy clear across town. I don’t want to be recognized.
I buy four pregnancy tests and enough chocolate to deal with the fallout of either result. If it’s negative… Wait—do I want it to be positive? My head is a mess. I want to cry and scream and call Heath and also never speak of this to anyone, ever.
When I get home, Maggie sees me enter with a bag clutched to my chest. She frowns. “What’s that? Where did you go this morning?”
“Nowhere.” I turn my back to her, hurrying up the stairs.
When I get to my room and go to my en-suite bathroom, I hear my sister struggling up the stairs with her big air cast on. “Ada!”
I crack my bathroom door a fraction of an inch, seeing her standing there with her arms crossed. Sighing, I open the door wider.
Her eyes flick from me to the pregnancy tests on the vanity, and a gasp falls through her lips. “You’re…?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t taken it yet.”
“Holy shit, Ada.”
I stare at my sister, biting my lip. If my prim and proper older sister is swearing, things are bad. I jerk my head to the test and she nods, understanding I’m going to take one.
I follow the instructions that come with the test, then set a timer and open the bathroom door.
Maggie sits on the edge of the bathtub with her hands propped under her chin. When my timer goes off, her eyes flick to mine.
Shaking my head, I inhale sharply. “I can’t look. You do it.”
Maggie gets up, putting all her weight on her good leg to lean over and grab the test. She flips it over, her eyes widening.
Shit. Fuck. Oh no, no, no.
Maggie’s eyebrows arch, and she nods. “Positive.”
“No.”
She lets out a sigh.
I shake my head. “No. I’ll take another one. It’s a false positive. Has to be.”
My sister places the test on the counter, nodding, and steps out of the bathroom. We do the whole thing all over again, with the same results. Then again. And again.
Positive, positive, positive.
I stare at the wall, not understanding.
I’m pregnant.
It’s not until Maggie wraps her arms around me and holds me close that I break down and cry. She shushes me, rocking back and forth as I fall apart.
But even through my tears, there’s something else. A feeling that grows stronger with every passing second. I’m going to be a mother. There’s a child growing inside me, and I’m responsible for it. Me.
Past my fear, behind my panic, there’s another feeling. Love that I’ve never felt before. Deeper than I’ve ever experienced. I run my hand over my stomach, already feeling attached to the tiny fetus inside me.
My phone dings again, and we both see the Duke’s name flash.
Maggie glances at me. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, as if he’ll hear me through the ph
one. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I feel. I think… I think I’m happy about it.” My eyes widen as I stare at my sister. “But if he’s not…”
She squeezes my arms, nodding. “Take your time, Ada. You don’t have to tell him right away. Just think about your options. About everything.”
I nod, my heart racing—but even as I stand there, the feeling gets stronger. Love. Devotion. Absolute and total adoration. There’s a baby growing inside me. Holy shit. Oh my goodness. I don’t… I can’t…
Whoa.
I let out a long sigh, shaking my head. “He’s coming to the concert on Friday. I’ll tell him I need to talk to him then. I don’t want to text him about this.”
Maggie nods. “Good idea. It’ll give you a few days to think about how you want to tell him and what you want to do.”
“I already know what I want to do,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “I want to keep it.”
Maggie takes a deep breath. She nods. “Okay.”
By the set of her shoulders, I know I’m heaping another problem onto her back. Her wedding to Count Gregory was already important for Kiera. Now, I’ll be unmarried and pregnant, which will be another blow to the Belcourt name. There’s more riding on her marriage than ever before.
But my sister just gives me a hug, a smile, and tells me she’s here for me no matter what.
As my concert approaches, my nerves heighten. I’ll be seeing Heath for the first time since the Count’s dinner party. He’ll be watching me play. Afterward, I’m hoping to sit him down and tell him the truth.
My stomach is tied up in knots as I wait just offstage. But I close my eyes and think of the music, and it slows my heart enough for me to be able to walk out with my head held high. With the bright stage lights shining down on me, I can’t see any individual faces in the crowd, and I’m grateful for it.
I settle onto the piano bench and take a deep breath, and I play.
The crowd melts away. My fears about the future melt away. The thought of the Duke and the Count and my family—all gone.
For a few blissful moments, I’m at peace. I play for an hour, feeling lighter and happier than I have in weeks. In a way, I feel like this concert belongs to me and my baby. We’re united on this stage. My little secret. My child, growing inside my womb.
For now, at least, no one knows. There’s no controversy. No difficult conversations. Only love—and music.
Then the concert ends, I take a bow, and I walk offstage. When I see the Duke of Blythe waiting in the wings for me, my heart flips. A smile tugs at my lips, and I know things between us are special.
He’s here, just like he said he’d be. Even though I’ve been distant since I took the test. Even though I told him I wanted to speak to him about something important. Even though my sister will be marrying Count Gregory.
This could work. Maybe he’ll see the glow on my face and know that this baby is special. Our connection, as short as it has been, means something.
I take a step toward him, but my mother blocks my path.
“Ada,” she says, putting a hand on my arm, “I need to speak to you.”
“One moment, Mother,” I say, trying to pull away.
Heath takes a step closer to us, his eyes shining. Does he know I played that concert for our child? I played it in honor of the feelings already in full bloom inside me.
“Ada,” my mother snaps.
I frown. “Is everything all right?”
“Count Gregory is here,” she hisses.
“Okay.” I shrug, but she still won’t let go. My mother’s eyes are dark. She gulps, and dread crawls up my spine. “What is it, Mother?”
“The Count spoke to me when you finished playing,” she says. “He doesn’t want to marry Maggie.”
I let out a sigh. “Thank God. I never liked him.”
Her brows draw together. “No, Ada…” Her grip on my arm tightens. I steal a glance at Heath, panic pushing in at the edges of my consciousness. My mother sucks in a breath. “Ada, Count Gregory wants you instead.”
My ears ring. Eyes widen. I’m dizzy.
“W-What?” I grip the wall, eyes searching for the Duke. Horror writes itself over his features as I try to gulp past a lump in my throat. I inhale, shaking my head. “No.”
“Ada,” my mother says. “Think of Kiera.”
“No, we can… Loans. Scholarships. We… I don’t…”
I inhale hard. Then again. Then again. I’m hyperventilating. I can’t get enough air. I can’t make words. The world is spinning. Why is my vision blurry?
I can’t marry the Count. I don’t want Maggie to marry him, but I definitely don’t want it to be me. I open my eyes again, trying to focus on the Duke. He’s still standing just at the edges of the shadows.
Then, his face comes into sharp focus.
Deep, dark rage.
He’s angry.
My brows draw together and I try to reach for him, but another hand slips into mine.
“Dearest Ada,” the Count croaks, blocking my view of the Duke. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my rudeness. I just couldn’t go on thinking of anyone else.” His beady black eyes rake over me, and it hurts. Physically. Mentally.
I can’t think. Can’t breathe. I pull my hand away. “Excuse me.”
I stumble away, searching frantically for the Duke, even though I already know he’s gone.
18
Heath
Count Gregory wants to marry Ada.
This is an attack. It’s directed at me. I know it is. He saw me and Ada together at his Christmas party, and he decided to step in and take her from me, too. Just like he took everything else.
Whoever saw me exiting the bathroom must have whispered into his ear, and now his poisonous tentacles are reaching back into my life.
I feel sick.
I need to talk to her.
But what will I say?
I left the concert hall without saying a word to her, even though I could see the agony on her face. She doesn’t want to marry him—but I know what it means to her family.
The Count knows every dean at every major university on the continent. He can offer stability for their family and a good education for Ada’s little sister.
What can I offer? What do I have?
A knock sounds on my office door, and I call out for the visitor to enter.
My personal butler, Seville, steps in. “Lady Belcourt is here, Your Grace. She’s waiting in the formal living room.”
I hide my shock behind a stone façade. “Thank you. I’ll be right there.”
Seville bows and exits the office, closing the door softly as he goes.
I stare at the closed door, my heart banging against my chest.
She’s here. She came straight here. That’s good, right? That means she feels something for me? It means she wants to refuse the Count?
On trembling legs, I stand up. I take a deep breath and stare at the door, willing myself to take a step forward.
What if she’s here to break it to me gently? She wants me to hear of the betrothal from her own lips, and tell me she doesn’t want to see me anymore? What if this is the end?
It can’t be the end. It can’t. I can’t allow her to marry the Count when I’m so close to bringing charges against him. We almost have enough evidence to bring a case against him. I just need one more university to release their documents to the royal investigators, and we’ll have enough to put the Count away for good. He’ll rot in jail, exactly where he deserves to be.
But if she marries him…that will ruin her, too. It’ll bring shame on her whole family.
Can I do that to her?
Steeling myself against whatever Ada has to say, I take the first step. Then another. Soon I’m standing outside the formal living room, peering in.
God, she’s gorgeous. The weak winter sun streams in through the window and makes her black hair glow. Her skin looks like it’s made of porcelain, her soft features turned toward the wind
ow. All I want to do is run my hands over her waist and pull her close, burying my face in her hair once more.
I shouldn’t have run away from the concert hall. She’s still wearing her dress, a black slip that made her look like a goddess on stage.
When I clear my throat, she turns. Anguish is painted across her features, and my stomach knots.
She’s not here to tell me she’s refusing the Count. She’s not here to profess her undying love. Why would she? We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks.
She’s here to break it to me in person. Pain lashes across my chest, leaving deep welts across my skin. I grind my teeth to stop from wincing.
“Lady Belcourt,” I say through a clenched jaw.
“Heath,” she sighs, taking a step toward me. She stops, her brows drawing together. A hand goes to her stomach as her chest heaves, and she watches me. Reads my features. Tries to understand.
“I heard the Count’s proposal,” I say after a long silence.
Ada doesn’t answer. She stares at me, a thousand emotions flitting across her face.
So I stand rooted to the ground, letting the familiar sting of agony course through my veins. My lips turn down. “Are you here to break it to me gently? To tell me that you can’t see me anymore?”
“No, I—” She stops, sucking in a breath. A flash of pain crosses her eyes.
I shrug. “He’s not a good man, Ada. You should refuse.”
Her breath trembles as her shoulders round. “Heath, it’s for my sister. We can’t afford to send her to university, and the Count, he—”
“Has connections at every major university you can think of,” I finish, chuckling bitterly. I want to cross the distance between us and wrap my arms around her. I want to drop to my knees and tell her to marry me instead.
But I don’t.
If I do that, what can I offer her? I don’t have the connections the Count has. I can’t offer her sister entrance to any university she chooses. I can’t elevate her family’s standing in society. If anything, being with me would drag her down.
Yours for Christmas: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected) Page 9