Today's Embrace (34 page)

“Alas! But aside from the old plum's embarrassment at being down, I think I've won her eternal affection.”

Rogan sat down beside her. “You'll soon settle down and get sea legs, as they say. Captain says we've good weather ahead too. Here, take a little sip—that's it.”

The uneasy motion of the ship seemed to be lessening, or perhaps it was true that the soup had benefited her.

As the days passed, the weather did clear. At times the sea was as smooth and glittering as topaz, and the nights unveiled a shimmering display. On a number of occasions, Evy prepared herself to tell Rogan she was going to have his baby, but each time she broached the subject, something always seemed to interrupt. Mrs. Croft scolded her, wearing a perpetual, worried frown between her gray brows.

“Evy, dear, you've simply got to tell him. There's no cause now to keep it secret. There's no turning back even if you wanted. It's straight to the Cape we're going.”

“Yes, yes, I know, and I'm so miserable in not telling him.”

“Then why aren't you doing it, dearie? Waiting won't make it any easier now.”

They were on deck, for it was a pleasant afternoon with a clear sky and calm sea. Evy sat on a chair on the shady side of the ship sipping tea while Mrs. Croft attended her embroidery.

Evy made up her mind. She looked across the deck to where Rogan was having a conversation with the captain of the ship. She watched him go down to the cabin, probably to get his books and maps.

Evy stood. “I'll tell him now,” she said firmly.

“That's the way. Get it out in the open. He'll soon forget all about your itty-bitty secret and be the beaming father-to-be.” Mrs. Croft was the one who beamed, looking at Evy with an endearing smile. She turned back to her work, embroidering the baby blanket.

Evy walked through the narrow, dim passageway and entered their cabin.

Rogan turned his head. “Captain wants us to dine with him tonight. Are you up to it?”

“That's very nice of him.” She stopped short and looked at him with a moment of alarm. “What are you doing?”

He pulled a trunk out from under the bunk and was opening it.

“Odd … I can't seem to find the trekking book written by Mornay's father, Bertrand. I thought I'd packed it—”

She hurried to stop him, her hand on the lid as he began to lift the trunk lid.

“It's not in here, Rogan.”

He looked at her, a curious gleam in his eyes.

“All right.”

She offered a quick smile and drew her hand away, smoothing her hair. Under his gaze she felt her cheeks warming. She turned away, casually, she hoped, and began glancing about the small cabin. “Let's see … where might you have mislaid the Mornay book …”

“I'm wondering now if I might have been in too much a rush to include it in the box of books. By the way, what do you have in here, gold or the Black Diamond?”

The casual talk of his books, followed by the smooth reference back to the trunk and her reaction when he'd started to open it, brought a qualm. She was irritated with herself for reacting so defensively. Even if he saw the baby things, she could say they were gifts for Arcilla's and Alice's new babies.

She turned to look at him, trying to appear amused.

“The Black Diamond? Yes, darling, it was me all along who stole it and concealed it.”

His mouth turned into a brief smile. He looked down at the trunk, his hand toying with the lid, yet not lifting it. He looked at her again. “Now, what could be in here, my sweet? I'm almost afraid to look … 
Instead of the diamond, maybe it's the head of Great-great-aunt Hortense.”

“Very funny. I don't know why you're making so much of the trunk.”

“Because you nearly had a fit when you saw me about to open it. It cannot be feminine—what's the word?—
modesty
, over bits of lace and such?”

“Don't be silly.” She was getting upset. She walked over to the trunk again and dusted an imaginary speck of dust from the lid. “You're making much out of nothing, Rogan. Would you mind either
opening
it, or putting it back under the bunk please? It's already too crowded in here without it sitting here staring at us.”

He smiled lazily. “I'll open it. You have me extremely curious.”

She shrugged and folded her arms. “Go right ahead.”

“Thanks, I will. It's always pleasant that two people married, sleeping in the same bed, have no undue secrets between them, don't you think?”

She fluttered her lashes. “I'm pleased you see it that way.”

He opened the trunk lid. She held her breath. He stared without saying a word.

She bit her lip, feeling the heat growing in her face. Now what?

Slowly he removed baby's booties, gowns, blankets, diapers, baby powder, baby lotion, baby bibs—

He held up the baby bib with an embroidered bear. He looked at her.

As she looked back, she saw his eyes darken with something that was uncommonly like anger.

“What is all this, Evy?”

Her throat went dry. She had imagined that keeping the secret from him until they were far at sea would upset him, but what she immediately felt frightened her with its reality. Gone was the warmth of passion and teasing amusement that he so often displayed when showering her with attention. She now saw something she had never seen before, and it caused her heart to constrict.

“I asked you an honest question, Evy, and I expect an answer. Or is that too much to hope for?”

She gasped. “What do you mean by that?”

He pulled out blankets and diapers and held them toward her. “Wasn't this the trunk you begged to take, even though we already had one too many?”

“Well, yes, but I don't see why that should suddenly make you angry.”

“Don't you?”

“No,” she fibbed, and grabbing the things from his hands, she tossed them back into the trunk.

“Why did you find it necessary to bring a trunk full of baby things?”

“Isn't it obvious?”

“If it was I wouldn't be asking.”

“You're being insulting—”

“All I want is the answer. I think I deserve the truth, though you, evidently, think not.”

“Rogan,” she gasped. “Don't say that.” Her eyes pleaded with his. She suddenly felt sick and swayed slightly. He caught her, and she held to him, shutting her eyes, feeling miserable. He sat her down in the chair and stood looking down at her. His face was grave and his eyes cool and unsympathetic.

She pushed her hair from her neck and swallowed.

Very calmly he poured a small glass of water and handed it to her, still watching her evenly as she drank. He studied her like a physician might a stranger.

“I'm waiting,” he said.

“They're gifts,” she murmured, looking down at the glass.

“Gifts?” His voice was expressionless.

“Yes, for Arcilla and Peter—for Baby Charles, or have you forgotten you're an uncle now?”

“What I want to know is if I'm going to be a father.”

She finished the water in the glass so she wouldn't need to answer at once.

“And some of the things are for Alice and Derwent. This is their third, I think—or is it their fourth?”

“Are you pregnant, Evy?”

The blunt but quiet question was such that she could not avoid it. Her eyes faltered, and she set the glass down.

“Yes.”

Her voice was so quiet that if he hadn't responded by a small intake of breath, she might have thought he hadn't heard.

The moments ticked by excruciatingly slowly.

The awful silence seemed to her to be laying brick after brick, raising a wall between them. Somehow she had to get through to him, to stop the wall from coming together, but how? It all seemed too late. As she realized this, she could see more clearly how foolish she had been. In wanting to have her way, no matter what the cost, she had put their relationship last.

She began to talk. He held up a hand to stop her rush of words. “How long have you known?

What would she say? In a moment she saw the obvious string of deceit and knew he would as well. Was it to be the truth now, or did she continue with another lie?

“When you went to see Dr. Tisdale?” he asked.

She let out a breath and lowered herself on the berth. She nodded. “Yes. But, Rogan, I—”

“So that's why you acted so strangely on the ride in Grimston Woods. Now I see.”

“I was going to tell you then, honestly I was, but—”

“But you decided to withhold it from me because you had other plans? You wanted to come to South Africa, and you didn't trust me to handle the truth.”

“That isn't true. I did trust you, but—”

“But. You didn't tell me.”

“I knew you'd insist I stay at Rookswood. I had to come! I had counted on this trip for so long I couldn't risk losing it.”

“So you risked our relationship because you couldn't trust me to at least try to do what was right for you, for
us?
I see. You trusted your own decisions and put our baby at risk.”

She sucked in her breath and stared at him. “Put the baby at risk? That's uncalled for, Rogan! That's completely unfair—”

“Well, what do you call it? Your plans and wishes mean more than mine or the child's safety. You may not understand this even yet, but we're going into danger. I set aside my better wisdom to let you come now because I knew how much it meant to you, but at no time did I ever fool myself into thinking there wouldn't be risk, a cost with this decision. We're headed into war, Evy. And you've decided nothing, not even our trust of each other, or the baby's safety, means as much to you as meeting Jakob van Buren and learning a lot of musty history about your mother! I'll tell you this.” And his eyes snapped with anger. “You've emerged more like the willful Katie than you have Mrs. Grace Havering or Vicar Edmund. Your careless indifference proves your relationship is not so vital after all with the God whom you've always said meant more to you than anything else.”

Evy slapped him. Then her hand flew to her mouth. She stared at him. But soon the tears dimmed her vision, and she could no longer see him. The last glimpse she had was a cool anger mingled with rejection.

“Can't handle reality, Evy?”

She turned away, trying to hold back the emotional devastation.

“Well, you've gotten your way, Evy. You've made certain of that—we can't turn back to England. Now you'll have to bear the burden you've created. When we reach Bulawayo, Dr. Jakob will be all yours—for just as long as you want.”

She whirled. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said. You've gambled everything we had going for us to sit at his table. You preferred Jakob to me. Now you can have him, his mission station, and anything else there you want.”

“Rogan, you're not deserting me?”

“Don't sound so melodramatic, my dear Mrs. Chantry. I'm merely
going to live up to your expectations. I'm an adventurer, remember? I can't be trusted with some of the most important information affecting our lives. So I'll be proceeding with my expedition to find Henry's gold—for as long as it takes me!”

She searched his face, seeing a hardness and stubbornness she had never come up against before. This was the Rogan Chantry others came up against, but he had never treated her this way.

“You blame me for everything,” she said bitterly. “Well, what of you? You're allowing your hurt pride and anger to make you stubborn and … and … and yes, immature! You're running away!”

His eyes narrowed. “Hurt pride? Maybe. But maybe just a realization that when a relationship isn't based on mutual trust, there isn't much to work with. You didn't trust me. That, Evy, has damaged our relationship more than anything you may say now. Immaturity on my part? All right, have it your way. If I had known you thought all this about me when I dropped everything at Fort Salisbury and came rushing back to Rookswood, I wouldn't have wasted my time.”

She swallowed the pain cramping her throat. Everything was falling apart around her. She had never dreamed he would react this way. She had thought he would be irritated she hadn't told him, but not take it so devastatingly hard.

“So,” she said with trembling lips, “you're—leaving me—and my baby.”

“Our baby, Evy. You've seemed to ignore that. The child you carry is as much
mine
as yours. I'll be around. But according to your own plans, you'll have everything you need with Dr. Jakob at the mission station. It won't make much difference if I'm away.”

“I never said that, Rogan—”

“You said that louder than words when you decided it was really none of my affair that you were pregnant. When you set out to deceive me, so you could have your way. I don't think you're in love with me at all, if you want my opinion.”

“What!”

“You heard me. A woman who loved her husband would have run with joy to tell him she was expecting his baby.”

“But—you intimated you didn't want a baby now. You shrugged it off and made light comments. You—”

“Then you don't really know me, do you? What I said about someone else's child is not the same as I think about
ours.
”

“You're being unfair, cruel. You've been hurt, and you want to hurt back. I—”

“Well, you won't need to suffer from my cruelty and indifference any longer.”

“Where are you going?” she cried as he went to the cabin door.

“To leave you in peace,” he said flatly.

She went after him, taking hold of his arm. “Rogan, can't we work through this?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “No, not now. I'm not ready to forgive you yet.”

“Rogan!”

“I'm being honest. Painfully honest. You've angered and hurt me more than your glib ability to understand. The fact that you simply want to kiss and make up right now tells me you don't really understand the damage to our trust, our oneness. And right now, I just don't have it in me to get over it. Someday, maybe, but not now.”