“A bit queasy, but not as bad as yesterday.”
“Have some breakfast.” Ester motioned to the tray of food sitting on the table. It looked fresh, untouched. Ester had probably had it brought solely for Abigail’s sake. “I will be leaving shortly with Julia, Abigail. We are paying a visit to the governor’s wife today. My husband and son both agree you should stay here. As do I.”
Abigail nodded, unable to feel offended by the decision. She had no desire to walk across town to the governor’s palace, and she had even less desire to present herself to all the people in between. Besides, the wife of Pilot was strange, always claiming prophetic dreams and mystic abilities. Abigail was in no mood to listen to her.
They chatted aimlessly until Julia called, then she walked with her mistress to the door to see her off, lifting a hand in greeting to Elizabeth before shutting the door. She then turned, absently rubbing at the ache in the small of her back as she tried to decide what to do. She could go talk to Dinah for a while, or perhaps assist Simon with the accounts until Jason woke up. The outer room could really use a dusting, but she knew better than to attempt the chore with her master nearby and able at any moment to surprise her.
She stifled a smile and took a few steps in the direction that would lead her to Simon. She felt a stirring in her stomach and froze for a moment, making sure it was not nausea. But it was different. It came again. Movement, true movement. Her baby had quickened.
Excitement exploded within her. This was her baby. Her child. Her life, moving around inside her as if to proclaim itself real, true, and undeniable. She sped through the house and burst into the chamber Jason still slept in, throwing the door first open and then closed without any thought to the level of noise.
“Jason!” She leapt on the bed at him. “Jason!”
He blinked and jerked up. “What? What is it?”
“The baby!” She grabbed his hand and rested it on her stomach just in time to catch the next little burst of movement. She giggled. “Did you feel it? He is moving, Jason. Our baby is moving.”
He sat very still for a moment, contemplation on his face. A grin bloomed when another little motion came through the wall of her abdomen. “He is, indeed. He will probably keep doing so, too, keeping you up at all hours, bruising your insides.”
“Of course he will,” Abigail agreed with pride. “He will be strong like his father.”
Jason pulled her closer and watched her as she stared down at her rounded middle. She spread both of her hands over her stomach and smiled. “It is amazing. What do you think he is doing?”
“Getting his exercise.”
“Yes, he will want to be the fastest boy in the streets.”
“Of course.” He pulled her closer still, adjusted his hands lower when another flutter moved that way. “Or if it is a daughter, she will be as beautiful as her mother and will want to be faster than all the boys, too, to escape them.”
Abigail laughed. It faded away, down to a smile, then into seriousness. She looked into his eyes for a moment, then shifted her gaze down.
He kissed her temple with more tenderness than she would have thought possible a few months before. “What is it, beloved?”
“Nothing. It is just–I had not thought.”
He lifted her chin up so that she would look at him again, and she saw his brows drawn together. “What had you not thought?”
Abigail shook her head, but he probably still caught the gleam of moisture in her eyes. “You may not want your first son to be–with me.”
Jason’s laughter caught her off guard. “My love, you mistook me completely.” He moved his hands to cup her face. “I was trying to assure you that I would love a daughter as much as a son. That I would not consider it a failing if you were to give me a girl.” He punctuated his assurances with a long kiss. “I would treasure a son. I would cherish a daughter.”
Abigail held his gaze for a long while, basking in whatever it was that he was offering her. She was not sure what the name for it was. Approval? Acceptance? Affection? Whatever its name, it brought her a measure of peace. “Truly?” she queried softly, just so she could hear him say it again. “You will love our child, even though–”
He stopped her with a finger over her lips. “I will love our child.” His touch turned to a caress over her cheeks, his firmness into gentleness. “How could I not?”
Abigail was afraid to relinquish herself completely to the mood, but there was something in his eyes that inspired her. Her lips turned up in a smile that felt unfamiliar to them, more mature, more mysterious, more knowing. “Because I am only a slave, Jason.”
His lips soon moved to mirror hers, and he shook his head lightly. “You were never only a slave, Abigail. You were born free. A soul never forgets that.”
As he kissed her, she was almost convinced.
Chapter Nineteen