Mistress - Amanda Quick [110]
Iphiginia sighed. “I suppose you are right.”
“If you wish to remove yourself from the situation, I suggest we retire to Deepford.”
“Never” Iphiginia shuddered at the thought. “The wilds of America would be preferable to the suffocating rules of Deepford. I shall never go back.”
“Then you must think of another place.” Amelia reached for the coffeepot. “Why this sudden panic? I was under the impression you believed that you were in control of the situation.”
“Things are getting out of hand,” Iphiginia muttered.
“In what way?” Amelia’s eyes widened in sudden concern. “Good heavens, you aren’t pregnant, are you?”
Iphiginia stilled. “No, of course not.” At least, I don’t think so. Iphiginia crossed her fingers in her lap.
Amelia frowned. “I imagine that Masters, being a man of the world, is cautious in such matters.”
“Uh, yes.” Iphiginia picked up a spoon and stirred her coffee very rapidly. “Yes, of course.”
“Tell me, does he employ those odd French apparatuses fashioned from sheep gut? The ones the Italian countess told us about?”
“Amelia.”
“I have always been rather curious to see one.” Amelia looked at her with brief interest. “The countess also mentioned that a woman could use a small sponge soaked in some astringent liquid.”
“I really do not want to discuss this at the breakfast table, Amelia.”
“Oh.” Amelia shrugged. “Some other time, perhaps.”
“Perhaps.” Right after she had discussed the subject with Marcus, Iphiginia thought grimly. He had never once mentioned the possibility of pregnancy. And she, heaven help her, had never given the matter much thought.
An image of herself holding Marcus’s babe in her arms formed in her mind. It was such an intensely powerful vision that she caught her breath with a sense of wonder.
The infant would have miniature versions of his father’s fine, strong hands. He would have his father’s brilliant, intelligent amber eyes and broad forehead.
He would be beautiful and she would love him as much as she loved his father.
“Iphiginia? Did you hear what I said?”
Iphiginia blinked and brought herself back to reality. “I beg your pardon?”
“I suggested that if you are concerned about your association with Masters, we might consider removing ourselves to Bath. I have always wanted to take the waters.”
“I shall consider the notion.” Iphiginia set her spoon precisely on the saucer. “Won’t you miss being able to work so closely with Mr. Manwaring?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“It strikes me that matters have gone very efficiently thus far with Bright Place primarily because Mr. Manwaring is situated nearby and able to meet with us at a moment’s notice. Business will not be nearly so convenient if we remove ourselves to Bath. We shall have to depend upon the post and the occasional visit.”
“We managed to work quite nicely with him during our years in Deepford.” Amelia picked up the newspaper and frowned over one of the articles. “It’s true that having Mr. Manwaring in the vicinity has made things go more smoothly. But I am sure we shall be able to carry on business from Bath.”
Iphiginia stifled a small sigh. Perhaps she had been wrong when she had concluded that Amelia and Manwaring were made for each other.
Lord only knew that she was not nearly so clever about such matters as she had once thought. The situation in which she found herself was a perfect example of how muddled affairs of the heart could become.
Until now she had assumed that her problem was that she loved a man who could not bend his own rules far enough to allow himself to admit that he loved her.
But perhaps the situation was even worse than she had thought. Perhaps Marcus had become so chained by his own rules that he could never love any woman again.
“Damn you, Nora,” Iphiginia whispered.
Amelia looked up. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” Iphiginia drummed her fingers on the table. One thing was for certain. She must take care not to become pregnant. It would be the last straw,