Page 133 of The Highlander Is All That

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said as she stood. She set her hand on her stomach. “I haven’t been feeling well.”

“Strange,” Mary said. Her smile was munificent. “Neither have I been.”

Elizabeth blinked. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“Please.” Elizabeth blew out a sigh. She had no patience for this. Not at the moment. “Don’t speak in riddles.”

“It’s hardly a riddle,” Mary said, wrapping her arm around Elizabeth. “I’m with child. And, I suspect, so are you.”

Elizabeth stared at her sister in horror. Oh no. How had she known?

“Darling. It’s right there in your eyes,” Mary said on a laugh. “Does he know?”

Her hackles rose. “He?” He who?

Mary rolled her eyes. “The father, of course. I am assuming it is not Twiggenberry?”

The prospect made her ill. “Good God, no!”

“No, he doesn’t know, or no, it’s not Twiggenberry?”

“It’s certainly not Twiggenberry.”

Mary’s eyes glimmered with humor. “Hamish, then?”

Elizabeth’s stomach lurched again, but this time it had nothing to do with a cucumber sandwich. “Mary, we should not be having this conversation.”

“Nonsense. I’m a married woman. And you . . .”

Elizabeth glared at her.

“You have . . . experience.”

“You may not tell anyone,” Elizabeth hissed.

“I wouldn’t dare. But you should.”

“What?”

“It’s not a secret one can keep for long. Besides, he deserves to know.”

“He has another woman back in Scotland.” All right, she was foolish to share such information, but it was boiling in her belly.

Mary boggled. “He does not.”

“He does. Ask Bower.”

“Oh dear. That is unfortunate.”

“Do you think?”

Mary tapped her lip. “He doesn’t seem to be in love with another woman.”

“Men are most excellent at hiding their feelings. You will learn that in time.”

Mary smiled brightly. “Jamison hides nothing from me.”