He stared down at her, pulling his lip moodily. "I was thinking," said he, "to ask Langton to be my steward. Would you really choose to be cumbered with all this business?"
She held her breath for a moment; for his question meant that he had no design to take her with him. Her face paled a little, but she answered steadily.
"It will at least fill my empty hours. . . . Better, dear—it will keep you before me in all the day's duties; since, though I miss you, all day long I shall be learning to be a good wife."
As she said it her hand went up to her side beneath her left breast, as something fluttered there, soft as a bird's wing stirring. It fluttered for a moment under her palm, then ceased. The room had grown strangely still. . . . Yet he was speaking.
He was saying—"I'll teach these good people who's Head of the
Family!"
Ah, yes—"the Family!" Should she tell him? . . . She bethought her of Mrs. Harry's sudden giddiness in the waggon. Mrs. Harry was now the mother of a lusty boy—Sir Oliver's heir, and the Family's prospective Head. . . . Should she tell him? . . .
He stooped and kissed her. "Love, you are pale. I have broken this news too roughly."
She faltered. "When must you start?"
"In three days. That's as soon as the Maryland can take in the rest of her cargo and clear the customs."
"They will be busy days for you."