Wild Star (Star Quartet 3)

Byrony simply stared at her.

“Ah yes, and here I was beginning to like you, Byrony. Despite everything. I wonder, were you trying to lose the child, on purpose?”

“What a stupid thing to say, Laurel. What do you want? I’m tired and sweaty and I want a bath.”

“But first, my dear, you’ll have to face your husband. Another month and perhaps, just perhaps, you could have convinced Brent that it was his child you’re carrying.”

Byrony laughed; she couldn’t help herself. “If ever you’d had a child, Laurel, you’d know how ridiculous you’re being! For heaven’s sake, we’ve been here at Wakehurst for only a month!”

“I believe you can leave us now, Laurel.”

Both women whirled about to see Brent standing in the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

He looks so pale, Byrony thought. She wanted to laugh at her concern.

“Yes, I’ll go,” Laurel said. “I believe you have a lot to say, don’t you, Brent?”

He straightened abruptly, moving into the room as Laurel walked past him. Very slowly he turned to close the door. He said over his shoulder, “One really shouldn’t say private things when anyone passing can overhear.”

“What Laurel said wasn’t particularly private. It was simply ridiculous.”

“True. As you told her quite clearly, it’s beyond imagination that you could be pregnant by any other man than your husband.”

“Ah well, Laurel was just being Laurel,” Byrony said.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Byrony?” He walked swiftly toward her and clasped her shoulders in his large hands. She looked up at him with wide, calm eyes.

Her eyes fell and he shook her. “Why? Don’t you think I’m entitled to know?”

“I was afraid to tell you. I wasn’t sure you’d want it.”

“It? What do you mean, it?”

“The child. I know you don’t want a child. But you’re right, regardless of what you would think, I should have told you as soon as I found out. I’m sorry.”

Not want his own child. He closed his eyes a moment, hating the pain her words gave him.

She said, her voice still quiet, utterly calm, “I know that you don’t love me, Brent. I know also that you distrust women, that you want to be free. I am not sorry that I’m pregnant, I must be honest with you about that. If you don’t want the child, he or she will be mine. I will leave. It is your decision.”

“How very selfless you sound,” he heard himself say, his voice cold and remote. “But I know women aren’t selfless, Byrony. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that women take what they want or can from men. However, I am your husband. You belong to me, legally. You will take my child nowhere.”

She looked at him with bitter eyes. “And when I am heavy with my child, and graceless and no longer able to accommo

date you, I will watch you go to other women? I suppose you are right, Brent. I’m not selfless. I won’t let myself be hurt that way. I’m very tired. Would you please leave me alone now?”

He said nothing more, merely nodded at her and walked from the bedroom.

Byrony came to her decision while she was soaking in her cool bathwater.

Not want his own child. But what was she to think? He’d been flailing about like a trout on a fishhook, vicious one moment, withdrawing from her the next. Well, it was enough. He thought of her buying that whip, and grinned. Well, my dear wife, he thought, you’ve finally got my attention.

He entered their bedroom early that evening before dinner. He drew up short.

Byrony was packing.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“Packing some of my things,” Byrony said calmly, not turning to face him.