But no, she had not been wise enough to see that or understanding enough to try. She had thought she could do what Harrison had not and mend the family. She had believed herself Richard’s advocate with the family, though she knew nothing about him but his own words.

Even a child would have made better choices than Adelaide had in this.

She was not to blame for Richard’s propositioning her, it was true, but opening her life to him as she had—and in secret—had prevented her from seeing the manipulation. This entire situation would not have happened had she simply been forthcoming with her husband and spoken with him about the man he knew better.

He had not hesitated to come to her rescue, had not questioned what had happened, had not given her any cause for shame, and he had not seemed surprised by his brother’s actions, either. She might never understand the full depravity and unrepentant nature of the man Harrison had just ordered to be thrown out of their house and their lives, but she certainly knew enough.

How long she sat on the floor while her tears fell, she could not have said, though the light through the window had shifted or faded a little by the time she felt able to stand.

But she could not get up.

The ungainliness of her body, the weight of the baby, the position of her legs and other furniture in the room made motion that much more difficult. She moved her tired, swollen legs in an attempt to get to her knees and try it that way, but it was no use. In hiding herself from Richard’s advance, she had forced herself nearly into a corner, and there was not enough space for a woman of her size and restriction to move, let alone find stability.

Which meant she would have to remain here until someone came in search of her.

If anyone would.

She had not seen Emblyn today, but the girl had seemed a trifle reserved in the last day or two, and she had not come into Richard’s rooms while Adelaide had been there. That could not be surprising, however, since Richard was more awake now and might suspect something of Emblyn’s interactions with Adelaide.

When Adelaide did not show for dinner, would Emblyn come to look for her?

Would Harrison?

She couldn’t think of him as Basset anymore, not when he had become so much more than just the man she had married. The use of his surname put too much distance between them, and that she could not bear. No more distance, no more formality.

Just the two of them, soon to be three. That couple that had danced together in the fog, unable to look anywhere but at each other, and the child they had created together.

That was all she wanted now.

All she needed.