Then she pointed at the slim volumes strewn about the floor. “These are not very heavy; in fact, most of them seem to be pamphlets.”

“Why did you want my figurehead in the attic? She’s supposed to be Galatea, the sea nymph.”

“I don’t want a half-naked woman jumping out of the wall of my sitting room.”

“She’s not half naked,” Patrick said, strolling over to look at Galatea more closely. “Look: she has a bit of drapery on her left breast. Quite tasteful, really.”

Sophie dumped two more dusty pamphlets on the stack at her feet without replying.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll have it removed to the attic.” There was a pause. “Alex pointed out that I have been remiss in allowing you to go about without escort,” Patrick said stiffly. “From now on, I would like you to inform me when you wish to use the carriage, and I will accompany you.”

Sophie’s mouth tightened. There was the explanation for her husband’s unexpected appearance: Alex!

“I have decided to begin my confinement,” she replied, “so I doubt I will have to bother you overmuch.” In fact, she decided at that moment never to leave the house again.

Patrick stared down at his wife’s small figure in despair. He couldn’t think of anything to say to her. Talk, Alex had instructed. Talk about what? Sophie had just stiffened up, all over her body, so already he’d said something wrong.

He hesitated, then bowed and turned, pulling open the door just as a footman raised his hand to knock on the panel. Patrick stood aside, then looked back for an instant.

“Sophie, would you like this wallpaper changed?” To him the roses looked like rosy mushrooms.

Sophie looked up, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “No, I rather like it. It’s very cheerful. I do intend to buy some new furniture for this room, however. Unless you have an objection.”

“Shall we go shopping this afternoon?”

“Perhaps later in the week.”

But Patrick wanted to do something for her now. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take a carriage ride in the park?”

“Quite sure, thank you.”

“Would you like me to send a message to Charlotte or your mother and ask them to visit you?”

“No, thank you, Patrick.” She was clearly waiting for him to leave.

So he did. What else could he do? He went downstairs and wondered about what made pregnant women happy. He sent a footman up to remove Galatea to her new home in the attic. Then he sent another footman out to buy three huge bouquets of roses, “the fat, floppy kind.” If roses made her cheerful, why not fill the house with them?