“You were given three full meals a day just like everyone else,” she pointed out, not bothering to mention the fact that, on most days, he’d received second helpings. She sat down on a bench near their luggage, wondering just how much longer he was going to keep this up.

“I’m sorry for all the cursing that my wife forced me to do while I was on that boat,” he continued, ignoring her even as he amused her. “As you know, she’s been such a bad influence on me. Thank you for pulling me from near death and somehow giving me the strength to survive.”

“Near death?” she asked, frowning. “When were you near death?”

“When was I near death?” he asked in stunned disbelief as he opened his eyes so that he could glare at her. “How could you forget all those times that I could barely move? When I struggled to find the will to live so that I wouldn’t leave you a young widow? Did my struggle for survival mean nothing to you?” he demanded in outrage, terrifying the people that were forced to walk past him to get to the docks and making her wrack her brain as she struggled to figure out what he was talking about.

“Do you mean those few times when you had a touch of seasickness?” she asked, unable to think of anything else that he could be talking about since he’d been the picture of health during the majority of the trip.

“ A touch ?” he repeated in disbelief. “I nearly died!”

“Because you were forced to miss breakfast a few times?” she asked, trying her best not to laugh or smile, but he looked so adorable just then that she admittedly didn’t put up much of a struggle.

“It was hell! Pure hell!” he snapped, shocking several of the women trying to rush past him.

“Try having seasickness every morning and night,” she said dryly as she stood up and gestured for several dockworkers to help them with their luggage.

“That makes my ordeal worse!” he said, coming to his feet so that he could offer her his arm. “I needed my strength so that I could tend to you and keep you alive.”

“The peppermint tea did that,” she said with a shrug.

His gasp of outrage was simply too adorable. “You ungrateful brat! After everything I did for you to ensure your survival and this is how you repay me? With your mockery?”

She opened her mouth to tease him when the reminder that she hadn’t had a chance to have her peppermint tea this morning hit her with the force of a battering ram. “Robert?” was all she had to say.

“Damn it!” he snapped, all humor leaving his face as he scooped her up in his arms and quickly carried her over to a stack of crates where she’d have some privacy.

As soon as he stepped behind the crates, he put her down on her feet and helped her kneel at the edge of the dock. He held onto her h*ps so that she wouldn’t have to worry about falling into the water as she was sick for the first time in a week. When she was done, she sat back against Robert, who wrapped his arms around her and murmured sweet endearments as they waited for the nausea to pass.

“I’m fine,” she said a few minutes later, panting slightly as she did her best to give him a reassuring smile when they both knew that she wasn’t.

“The hell you are,” Robert practically snarled as he helped her to her feet. As soon as she was standing up, albeit a bit wobbly, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back towards the dockworkers waiting by their luggage.

“I can walk,” she said even though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

“You’re not walking.”

“People are staring,” she pointed out quietly, embarrassed by all the attention.

“Then let them stare. You’re not walking!” he snapped, sounding angry, but she knew that he wasn’t mad at her.

Robert was terrified that there was something seriously wrong with her. She’d been ill during most of the trip, sometimes too sick to leave the bed. When she wasn’t sick she was exhausted, sleeping away most of the morning and falling asleep at night before the sun even had a chance to set. The ship’s doctor hadn’t helped matters when he’d tried to restrict her to their room for most of the trip.

The doctor had examined her multiple times at Robert’s request and each time he’d claimed different reasons for her illness. The last suggestion had Robert throwing the man out of their room and on his ass. He still wouldn’t tell her what the doctor said, but the way she caught him watching her sometimes let her know that it was bad.

Whenever she asked him what the doctor said, he would smile and reassure her that it was nothing. Then he would do whatever it took to distract her. They’d walk the deck of the ship, play cards, read, and reminisce about the old days until it was time to go to bed. Then he would make love to her tenderly as though he was savoring their time together, which only frightened her more.

“Take us to the finest hotel,” he demanded as soon as they were within speaking distance of the men waiting by their luggage.

“I thought we were going straight home?” she asked, feeling slightly disappointed that she’d have to wait another day to see her new home even though the prospect of spending the next few hours in a coach didn’t really appeal to her.

“Shhh, minx, it’s fine,” he said, shifting her in his arms so that he could hold her closer. “Everything will be fine.”

* * *
“Well? What’s wrong with her?” Robert demanded in a hushed whisper as he looked up from his sleeping wife to the elderly doctor that looked confused and somewhat amused.

“You say that two different doctors have examined her in the past two months?” the doctor asked as he adjusted Elizabeth’s nightgown and pulled the covers up and tucked her in.

“Yes,” Robert bit out, doing his damndest to keep a rein on his temper, but it was difficult right now when he was scared out of his mind that he was going to lose his minx.

“Remind me what they diagnosed her with again,” the doctor said with a patient smile as he sat down on the edge of the bed by Elizabeth’s side.

Praying that he could get through this without grabbing the elderly doctor by his shoulders and demanding that he fix his wife, Robert took a deep breath before he answered. “The first doctor said that she’d miscarried our child. The second doctor told me a combination of things. Sometimes he said that it was all in her head, that she was just doing it for attention. Then he would say that she had liver damage, the flu, migraines even though she never once complained of a headache and the last time,” he started to say when his voice broke, “the last time he said that she most likely had cancer.”

“I see,” the doctor murmured, reaching up and pulling the covers back that he’d just adjusted. “How did he explain the weight gain?” he asked, placing his hand over the slight curve of Elizabeth’s stomach that was becoming more noticeable with each passing day.

“He said it was from her overeating to compensate for her illness.”

“I see,” the doctor said, his lips twitching as he gestured to Elizabeth’s chest. “And have you noticed a difference there?”

God, yes…..

Her br**sts appeared to be bigger and a hell of a lot more sensitive. He’d actually made her come just from licking her ni**les last week. It had turned him on so much that he’d-

The doctor chuckled, bringing his focus back where it should be. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he said as he pulled the covers back up.

“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” he asked, desperate for an answer. He really didn’t know what he’d do without her. He didn’t want to live without her. He-

“Your wife is pregnant.”

-was going to be sick.

“W-what?’ his asked, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard as his head began to spin and his legs stopped working.

With a chuckle, the doctor helped him sit down in the chair next to the bed. Then without a word, he gave Robert’s shoulders a gentle push that had him bending forward as he struggled to take in his next breath.

“If I had to guess, I would say that your wife is around four months along,” the doctor calmly explained.