“Good night, then.”

She sat up. “You are infuriating.”

“You only need say what you want, lass.”

“I don't know what I want.”

He blinked at her and said nothing.

Lily turned her face away. “I'm afraid.”

He put a hand over hers, ran it up her arm. “Afraid of me, Lily?”

“No. No, I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of—”

Too many things to name, but the images were bright in her mind; blinding in their clarity.

“Getting with child,” he supplied for her and those words hit her as surely as a fist. When she opened her eyes he was looking at her with surprise, and unease, and dawning understanding.

“It's like that, is it?” he said softly, his hand closing more firmly around hers.

She turned her head away, or tried to, but he would have none of that. He caught her chin and studied her face, his expression keen and sharp, as if he were looking at something he had never seen before, and Lily supposed that that much was true: she was carrying his child, after all. She drew in a hiccupping breath.

“Ach, Lily.” He drew her down until her head was nested on his shoulder and closed his arms around her.

After a while he said, “You may not care to believe me, but I would not have had it happen so quick.”

She did believe him, and it did help, but she could not make herself say that out loud.

“And still, there's one thing to be thankful for,” Simon said more softly, his fingers tracing a pattern on the skin of her throat.

He was thinking of her father, no doubt, that he would not object to the marriage if she was carrying Ballentyne's child. Lily was just about to explain that her father might very well object when the warmth of Simon's breath distracted her.

He had shifted a little so that they were face to face. “If you've fallen pregnant already, why, the deed is done. We needn't worry about it happening, lass, for it already has.”

She found herself almost smiling, which would not do, not at all. “Trust a man to see it that way.”

One brow peaked, and on its heels a flash of the dimples he had hidden for so long. “You mean to sleep alone, then?”

Lily barked a sharp laugh. “You mean to make me ask, don't you?”

“Ach, aye.” Simon pressed her against him, so she would understand how serious his purpose, and how intent he was on getting the answer from her that she wanted to give him.

“Unless it's just a few kisses you're after,” he said, almost innocently. “Those I'll give you without asking. To start with. You tell me when you've had enough.”

Lily put her arms around his neck, suddenly at peace, ready to capitulate the battle, if not the war. It felt good to let Simon Ballentyne hold her.

Chapter 22

“Now this,” said Jennet, “this is curious.”

She tapped a finger on the table and sent Martha and Callie a questioning look. “What do you make of it?”

The girls leaned toward the two cards that lay face up and crossed one over the other.

Callie pressed a knuckle to her upper lip. “The empress?”

“And the wheel of fortune,” added Martha.

“The empress crossed by the wheel of fortune.” Jennet sat back and held out her hands, palms up, and wiggled her fingers. “We laid out this cross for Hannah. What is she to learn from it?”

“Change is coming.” Callie lifted her face and looked directly at Hannah, who sat across the table with her daybook open before her. “You must be diligent.”

On the other side of the kitchen Curiosity let out a gruff laugh as she took the lid off the lye barrel and dumped in a hopper full of ash. “Now maybe that's what those cards want to tell us,” she said. “But that ain't no news. We know the sun going to set, too, and come up again.”

Martha flushed a little. “But this means great change, doesn't it? Something big.”

Curiosity met Hannah's gaze, a smile jerking at the corner of her mouth. It was good to see that Martha was able to get up at least a little temper; the girl was too timid by far.

“It does,” Jennet said. “Something that calls for considerable caution and care.”

“I suppose there could be news of the war,” Lucy said from her spot at the big loom.

“The post rider is due tomorrow, and he's always got news,” added Sally.

“Och, you mustn't waste your time guessing,” Jennet said, gathering up cards from different piles to square them neatly. “Whatever it is will come soon enough. Now I understand the two of you have schoolwork, is that no the case?”

“Just once more, please,” said Martha. “Just one more cross for Hannah, maybe it will make things clearer.”

Jennet rolled her eyes and smiled, too, in case the girls understood her sigh for what it really was, no more than a bit of playfulness. In her hands the shuffling cards flapped like wings as they flew from hand to hand. Then she flipped one onto the table and laid another across it.

“The seven and the knight of swords.” Her smile faltered and then flickered back. “Silly me,” she said, scooping them up. “It's only the face cards you're meant to use when laying out a cross.”

The deck disappeared into her apron pocket as she got up. “Off with you now, the two of you, or you won't have your lessons ready and then Elizabeth will come looking for me, and what would I say in my defense? And I did promise Ethan that I would help him with his packing this afternoon . . .” Her voice trailed away, unconvinced and unconvincing.