Another pang of disquiet passed through her. Don’t assume the worst, she lectured herself sternly as she contemplated her swollen middle.
Thankfully she was distracted when Tomas’ nurse came to collect him. It was time for his luncheon and then nap. Isobel said goodbye and was intensely gratified when the little one consented to be kissed. She was definitely winning him over.
Planting the rest of the strawberry seeds on her own, she placed the finished pots on a sunny table. Sprinkling some of her grandmother’s special growing solution in each pot, she said a little chant for their speedy growth. It was another recipe she’d found in Helen’s books, one she found extremely useful. Especially since both Tomas and Matteo seemed overly fond of hothouse strawberries.
“I knew I’d find you in here.”
Isobel turned to see her husband coming through the greenhouse doors. He was looking very fine, in a loose linen shirt and breeches. Despite the heat of the day, he was wearing black kidskin gloves over his hands. Watching him approach, she flushed at the memory of those black gloves moving all over her nude body the night before.
Though he still bore scars, the underlying musculature of his hands had improved markedly. He could use them with only a little pain now—despite his continued refusal to let her apply more salves, or to drink any of the tonics she prepared for him. Even after they moved to Italy, he insisted the injuries were his penance.
As a witness and first-hand participant in those dark events, she understood. As his wife, she refused to let him continue to punish himself for something that had been out of his control.
However, in recent days, Matteo had become skeptical. His hands had recovered too quickly and too well for him not to suspect her. She’d heard him asking his valet if she’d given the cook anything to add to his food or drink. His lack of trust wounded her a little, but since she was healing him on the sly decided not to dwell on it.
At least the suspicious glint in his eye didn’t stop him from gathering her into his arms and kissing her soundly in greeting. Softening in his embrace, she returned his kiss eagerly. His gloved hands cupped the back of her head before moving down to stretch over her swollen belly.
“How is she today?”
“Active. And it’s a he,” she said pointedly.
She knew it for a fact.
Matteo raised a brow. “You know your dreams don’t always come true.”
“This one will.” She put her hands over his. “How are they today?”
“Well enough,” he said, lifting his hands and crossing his arms over his chest.
“That’s excellent darling,” she said brightly, avoiding his eyes.
“Isabella.”
“Hmm?” she murmured, moving away to needlessly reorganize the strawberry pots.
“You and I both know that they shouldn’t be well—nowhere near. I just haven’t figured out how you’re doing it. The staff swears up and down that my meals and drink haven’t been adulterated at your request. My valet swears the brandy and the grappa have not been tampered with. So, mia streghetta, how did you do it?”
Isobel pursed her lips and looked down.
“Mi amore, you have to stop.”
She looked up at him entreatingly. “I can’t.”
He sat on the bench across from her and took her hands in his. “You have to. I told you—this is my penance. It’s important to me. This is the only way to make amends for what I’ve done.”
Scowling, she tugged on his glove. “And I’ve told you, there is no more need to punish yourself. You were a victim, just as I almost was. But you met me,” she said, succeeding in pulling off the glove from his hand. “And our meeting was no accident. I know that now. I was supposed to help you and now I’m supposed to love you. So I’m going to do just that, and you will accept it—whether you like it or not.”
He laughed briefly, until she lifted his hand to her lips to press a soft kiss to its scarred surface.
His eyes softened. “I happily accept your love and anything else you are willing to give me. Except the continued healing. I’ve already regained the use of my hands. Anything else is too much to ask. So please, no more charms or spells or whatever else it is that you’ve done.”
She sighed. “I told you, I can’t stop. But if you choose to forgo treatment, then that is your decision. I shall, however, be extremely disappointed. Although the natural conclusion of the treatment was fast approaching in any case,” she said, patting her belly meaningfully.
He raised a brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She bit her lip and glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “It means that the charm is in me, my lord.”
“What?”
Gesturing to her body, she suppressed a tiny gloating smile. “I put the healing charm in me. Every time you touch me, every time we make love, you are healed just a little bit more.”