“I’m sorry, Sophie.” The words wrenched from the deepest wells of Patrick’s soul. “I know I can never make it up to you, but oh God, I’m so sorry!”

Sophie frowned. “Did you want the babe, then?”

He raised his head and she realized with shock that his cheeks were wet with tears. “I wanted the babe. I don’t know why I said such a cruel thing to Braddon. I lied. I used to think all the time about the baby.”

Sophie swallowed. “I’m sorry, Patrick. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Patrick’s voice emerged half strangled, rough. “What are you talking about?”

“The baby, the baby. I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t know what I did to make my baby die.” Sophie’s hands had twisted out of Patrick’s grip and were restlessly clutching and reclutching her sheet. Miserably she met Patrick’s eyes.

The pure shock she saw there startled her. “How could you do anything?” He whispered it. “I frightened you. I made you fall down the stairs.”

Sophie shook her head. She had only a jangled, jumbled memory of the past few days, and nothing to do with stairs. “Stairs?”

“You fell down the stairs,” Patrick said slowly. “You fell down the stairs, and then you miscarried, Sophie.” He repeated, “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Sophie was shaking her head. “I don’t know about the stairs, but the baby stopped living, that was what Dr. Lambeth said. I felt so ill that I couldn’t think clearly.” She paused and drew a long, shuddering voice. “But I knew before the doctor told me, because he stopped moving—”

“She,” Patrick automatically amended.

“She?”

“We had a little girl, Sophie, a lovely little girl. Do you mean that the fall didn’t cause the baby to be born early, Sophie?” His voice was so hoarse that it was almost a gasp.

She nodded, then murmured something.

Patrick dropped his head on the cover as harsh, wrenching sobs forced their way up his chest. He felt two slim arms curve around his shoulders.

“Ah, love, don’t, don’t! It wasn’t either of our faults,” Sophie whispered with new wisdom in her heart. “She just wasn’t ready for this world yet, that’s all.”

Patrick stayed still, savoring the sweetness of having Sophie’s arms around him again. The sense of sharp joy in his heart mingled with grief—but it was a healthy grief, a looking-forward grief.

“Lie back.” Gently he pushed her back against the pillows.

“Did you see her?” Sophie’s voice was so small it floated on the air.

“She was a beautiful baby, Sophie. She looked just like you.” Tenderly he wiped away her tears. “I told her how much you loved her.”

Tears poured down Sophie’s cheeks. Patrick sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand along Sophie’s hair.