“I will try to recall that. Lilybet knew.”
“Of course she did. She was touching me when Edgar hit me and I fell. She later assured me that all was fine. Hmmm. She might know what we are having, a boy or a girl. I need to decide if I want to know.”
“What would knowing help you with?”
“Planning for clothing and all that.”
“Ah, I see. I will leave the decision up to you. My mind just freezes on the word. Child. I am going to be a father.” He pulled her into an enthusiastic hug.
“You are not one yet?”
“Nay, not that I know of and I would. It is impossible to hide a Wherlocke or Vaughn child from his father, or mother as such is the case. It is in the blood, in the very heart of us and we recognize each other.”
“That must be helpful.” She trailed her fingers down his taut belly and felt it tremble ever so faintly beneath her touch. “So how did ones like Lilybet become lost to your tribe?”
“Our tribe. Hah! I like that. And I have no idea. All we have are some burned or partly burned papers left of a whole family driven into exile or murdered. Getting rid of family records meant they had nothing to take to court. It did not stop the persecutions but it slowed them down. Even when engaged in such horrific persecutions they do love their puzzles. Let us hope Modred and Dob find the answers.”
For awhile they just relaxed in the bed, enjoying the closeness of their bodies with no fear of societal anger or repercussions. Then Primrose curled her long slender fingers around his erection and Bened smiled. Quiet time was over. He turned to his wife, the woman he meant to spend his life with now carrying his first child, and suspected that any quiet times for him ended the day he found a woman with poor eyesight stumbling through the woods looking for her horse.