air in Dr Leeâs very elegant consulting room so that it was too thick to breathe. Lily felt the blood fall away from her head, leaving a roaring, echoing emptiness, which was filled a few seconds later by the distant sound of Dr Leeâs voice. She was aware of his hand on the back of her head.
âThatâs itâ¦just keep your head down like that, thereâs a good girl. This sort of reaction isnât uncommonâ¦Your hormones⦠Nothing to worry about. Just give it a moment and youâll soon feel right as rainâ¦â
Rain.
The memory of the lake at Stowell in the misty pre-dawn light rose up from the darkness inside her head; the rain falling in shining, silvery sheets on a landscape of pearly greyness. She remembered the musical sound of it, a timeless, soothing lullaby as she had held Tristan, stroking the tension from his sleeping body, while all the time, unknown, unseen, thisâ¦secret miracle had been unfurling within her own flesh.
âThere. Better now?â
She sat up, inhaling deeply, and nodded. âYes. Sorry. The shockâ¦â
Dr Leeâs face was compassionate, concerned. âIt wasnât planned?â
âN-no,â she stammered. âI donât understand. Iâm on the pill.â
âAh. Well, the contraceptive pill is pretty good, but nothing gives a one-hundred-per-cent guarantee, Iâm afraid. The sickness bug you picked up in Africa could have impaired the pillâs effectiveness, if that was quite soon afterâ¦â He cleared his throat and left the sentence tactfully unfinished.
Mutely Lily nodded.
âIn that case it would tell me that itâs still very early days,â he said gently. âThere are many options open to you, you know.â
Lily got clumsily to her feet and held onto the back of the chair for support as the meaning of his words penetrated her numb brain.
Options.
âThink about it,â Dr Lee said with professional neutrality. âTalk it over with your partner, and let me know what you decide.â
She shook her head. âI donât have a partner. Heâs not⦠He wouldnâtâ¦â She stopped, her mouth open as she tried to articulate the degree of Tristan Romeroâs absence from her life without making herself sound like a cheap tart. I barely know him⦠I donât have his number and he made it perfectly clear that he wouldnât want to hear from me again⦠It was meant to be sex without strings. A one-night stand.
Oh, God, maybe she was a cheap tart. She remembered the hunger with which sheâd pushed him back on the moonlit bed and taken him in her mouth; remembered the despair that had sliced through her like forked lightning when heâd said they shouldnât go any further, that he had no contraception, and the desperation with which she had assured him it was safe.
âThis is nothing to do with him.â Her knuckles were white as she gripped the back of the chair. âItâs not his fault, or his responsibility.â
Dr Leeâs eyebrows rose. âMiss Alexanderââ
âItâs mine. My fault, my responsibility. My baby.â The words sounded strange and unfamiliar, but as she spoke them the same peculiar, illogical sense of peace that she had felt that night in the tower, in Tristanâs arms, came back to her, shivering through her whole body like a delicate meteor shower. She lifted her chin, meeting the concerned gaze of the doctor with a determined smile. âItâs my baby. And Iâm keeping it.â
Â
âA call for you, Señor Romero.â
Tristan looked up irritably from the computer screen. âBianca, I told you I did not wish to be disturbed.â
â Lo siento , señor, but it is Señor Montague. I thought you would wish to speak to him.â
Tristan gave an abrupt nod as he reached for the phone. âSÃ. Gracias.â He swung his chair round so