Whitefern (Audrina 2)

“She’s missed two periods. After I called you, I went upstairs to talk to her. I asked her questions as directly and simply as I could.”

“And?” He leaned forward. “Well? What did she tell you?”

“All she talks about is Papa telling her she can bring a baby to Whitefern. That he will help.”

“He will help? How’s he supposed to do that from the grave?”

“Nothing she says makes sense, but she did admit again that Mr. Price had touched her when she was completely naked.”

“You don’t make someone pregnant by touching her,” he said, leaning back and finishing his drink.

“She never complained, but her breasts are somewhat swollen and tender. As far as I know, she has had no nausea, but that doesn’t always occur. I don’t count how many times she urinates, and she hasn’t shown more fatigue than usual, but everyone reacts differently to being pregnant. While I was waiting for you, I read up on it as much as I could. So? What should we do?”

He stared at me a moment, his eyes taking on that now familiar mix of anger and determination. “For now, I’d like you to do nothing, Audrina,” he said.

“Nothing?”

“Don’t say anything more to her about it. She’ll just get more confused, and who knows what will happen?”

“We should at least bring her to Dr. Prescott,” I said. “He can give her a full examination and tell us exactly what’s happening.”

“Let’s wait. If it’s something else, we’ll only have opened a can of worms.”

“And if it’s not something else?”

He stared at me so long that I thought he hadn’t heard the question.

“I mean, if she is pregnant, Arden . . .”

He shrugged and relaxed again. “We wanted a baby,” he s

aid softly.

“What?”

“She’s your sister,” he said, his gaze never wavering. “You have the same blood. It’s almost the same as you having a baby.”

“What?”

“Stop saying ‘What?’ I’m just thinking aloud.”

“But it won’t be our baby, Arden.”

“You once suggested we adopt . . . not so long ago, in fact, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Well, at least you know the mother of this child. If it’s a boy, he could look more like your father.”

“But everyone would know.”

“They don’t have to know,” he said. He put his empty glass down. “This is a house that has an easy time keeping secrets. What’s another?”

“How do we keep this one? Eventually, she’ll need real medical attention.”

He smiled. “First, do you agree with me that if she is pregnant, the baby is at least half an Adare? The baby’s half you?”

“It’s not half me—it’s half Sylvia. But yes, it does have our family blood.”