Postcards From Rome: The Italian's Pregnant Virgin / A Proposal from the Italian Count / A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir. Lucy Gordon
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to nothing more but her general distrust of the situation.
She really hoped it was the second.
The doctor squirted some warm gel onto her stomach, then placed the Doppler on her skin. She moved the wand around until Esther caught sight of a vague fluttering on the monitor next to her. Her breath left her body in a great gust, relief washing over her. “That’s the heart,” she asked, “isn’t it?”
“Yes,” the doctor said, flipping a switch and letting a steady thumping sound fill the room. “There it is.”
It was strange, like a rhythmic swishing, combined with a watery sound in the back. The Doppler moved, and the sound faded slightly.
“I’m just trying to get a good look.” She kept on moving the Doppler around, and new images flashed onto the screen, new angles of the baby that she carried. But Esther couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it. She had no experience with ultrasounds.
“Do either of you have a history of twins in your family?”
The question hit Esther square in the chest, and she struggled to come up with any response that wasn’t simply why.
She didn’t. But she knew that the question didn’t actually pertain to her, since the child she was carrying wasn’t hers. “I...”
“No,” Renzo said, his tone definitive. “However... The baby was conceived elsewhere through artificial means. If that has any impact on what you’re about to say.”
“Well, that does increase the odds of such things,” the doctor said. “And that is in fact what it looks like here. Twins.”
All of the relief that had just washed through Esther was gone now, replaced by wave after wave of thundering terror. Twins? There was no way she could be carrying twins. That was absurd.
Here she had been worried that she had lost one baby, that they would look inside her womb and see nothing, when they had actually found an extra baby.
“I don’t understand,” Esther said. “I don’t understand at all. I don’t understand how it could be twins. I’ve been to the doctor before to have the pregnancy checked on...”
“These things are easy to miss early on. Especially if they were just looking at heartbeats with the Doppler.”
She felt heat rush through her face. “Yes,” she confirmed.
“I understand that it’s a bit of a shock.”
“It’s fine,” Renzo said, his tone hard, belying that calm statement. “I have more than enough means to handle such things. I’m not at all concerned. Of course we are able to care for twins.”
“Everything looks good,” the doctor said, pulling the Doppler off Esther’s stomach and wiping her skin free of gel. “Of course, we will want to monitor you closely as twins are considered a more high-risk pregnancy. You’re young. And all of your vitals look good. I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a very successful pregnancy.”
Esther was vaguely aware of nodding, while Renzo simply stood there. Like a statue straight from a Roman temple.
Seeing that neither of them had anything to say, the doctor nodded. “I’ll leave you two to discuss.”
As soon as the doctor left, Esther sagged back onto the table, flattening herself entirely, going utterly limp. “I can’t believe it.”
“You can’t believe it? You’re the one who intends to leave. Why would it concern you?”
“I’m the one who has to carry a litter,” she shot back.
“Twins are hardly a litter.”
“Well, that’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one gestating them.”
He looked stunned. Pale beneath his burnished skin. “Indeed not.” He turned away from her. “Get dressed. We have reservations.”
“I know I do. I have several reservations!”
“For dinner.”
“You’re not seriously suggesting that we just go out to dinner as though nothing’s happened?”
“I am suggesting exactly that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Get dressed. We are leaving to go to dinner.”
She growled and got off the table, moving back over to her clothes on unsteady legs. She picked up the lacy underwear that had been provided by Renzo’s stylist and slipped them up her legs, not even bothering to enjoy the lush feel of the fabric as she had been doing every other time before.
There was no pausing for lushness when you’d just found out you were carrying not one, but two babies.
She made quick work of the rest of her clothes. At least, as quick work as she could possibly make of them with her trembling fingers. “I’m ready,” she snapped.
“Very good. Now, let us cease with the dramatics and go to dinner.”
He all but hauled her out of the office, taking her to his sports car, where he yanked open the passenger-side door and held it for her.
She looked up at him, at his inscrutable face that was very much like a cloudy sky. She could tell a storm was gathering there, but she couldn’t quite make out why. Then, she jerked her focus away from him and got into the car, clasping her hands tightly in her lap and staring straight ahead.
He closed the door, then got in on his side, bringing the engine to life with an angry roar and tearing out of the parking lot like the hounds of hell were on his heels.
“You dare call me dramatic?” she asked. “If this isn’t dramatic, I don’t know what is.”
“I only just found out that I’m having two children, not one. If any of us is entitled to a bit of drama...”
“You seem to discount my role in this,” she fired back. “At every turn, in fact, you treat me as nothing more than a vessel. Not understanding at all that there is a bit of work that goes into this. Some labor, if you will.”
“Modern medicine makes it all quite simple.”
“That is...well and truly spoken only like a man. What about what this is going to do to my body? It’s going to leave me with stretch marks and then some.” She didn’t actually care about that, but she felt like poking him. Goading him. She wanted to make him feel something. Because for whatever reason this revelation had rocked her entire world, made her feel as though she herself had been tilted on her very axis. She didn’t think he had a right to be more upset than she was. And maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe it was hormones. But she didn’t particularly care.
“I will get you whatever surgery you want in order to return your body to its former glory. If you’re concerned about what lovers will be able to get afterward, don’t be.”
That statement was almost laughable.
“I am not concerned about lovers,” she said. “My life is not dependent on what other people think. Been there, done that, got rid of the overly starched ankle-length dresses. But what about what I think?”
“You are impossible. And a contradiction.”
He drove on with a bit too much fervor through the narrow streets, practically careening around every corner, forcing her to grip the door handle as they made their way through town.
They stopped in front of a small café, and he got out, handing the keys to a valet in front of the door. It took her a moment to realize that he was not coming around to open the door for her. She huffed, doing it herself and getting out, gathering the fabric of her skirt and getting herself in order once she was fully straightened.
“That was not very gentlemanly,” she said, rounding the front of the car and taking as big a step as her skirt would allow.
“I am very sorry. It