“Riding?” Daphne answered weakly.
“Don’t you even care about our child? Didn’t you give even a moment’s thought to its safety?”
“Simon,” Daphne said, her voice very small.
“A pregnant woman shouldn’t even get within ten feet of a horse! You should know better.”
When she looked at him her eyes looked old. “Why do you care?” she asked flatly. “You didn’t want this baby.”
“No, I didn’t, but now that it’s here I don’t want you to kill it.”
“Well, don’t worry.” She bit her lip. “It’s not here.”
Simon’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”
Her eyes flitted to the side of his face. “I’m not pregnant.”
“You’re—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. The strangest feeling sank into his body. He didn’t think it was disappointment, but he wasn’t quite sure. “You lied to me?” he whispered.
She shook her head fiercely as she sat up to face him. “No!” she cried. “No, I never lied. I swear. I thought I’d conceived. I truly thought I had. But—” She choked on a sob, and squeezed her eyes shut against an onslaught of tears. She hugged her legs to her body and pressed her face against her knees.
Simon had never seen her like this, so utterly stricken with grief. He stared at her, feeling agonizingly helpless. All he wanted was to make her feel better, and it didn’t much help to know that he was the cause of her pain. “But what, Daff?” he asked.
When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were huge, and full of grief. “I don’t know. Maybe I wanted a child so badly that I somehow willed my courses away. I was so happy last month.” She let out a shaky breath, one that teetered precariously on the edge of a sob. “I waited and waited, even got my woman’s padding ready, and nothing happened.”
“Nothing?” Simon had never heard of such a thing.
“Nothing.” Her lips trembled into a faintly self-mocking smile. “I’ve never been so happy in my life to have nothing happen.”
“Did you feel queasy?”
She shook her head. “I felt no different. Except that I didn’t bleed. But then two days ago . . .”
Simon laid his hand on hers. “I’m sorry, Daphne.”
“No you’re not,” she said bitterly, yanking her hand away. “Don’t pretend something you don’t feel. And for God’s sake, don’t lie to me again. You never wanted this baby.” She let out a hollow, brittle laugh. “This baby? Good God, I talk as if it ever actually existed. As if it were ever more than a product of my imagination.” She looked down, and when she spoke again, her voice was achingly sad. “And my dreams.”
Simon’s lips moved several times before he managed to say, “I don’t like to see you so upset.”
She looked at him with a combination of disbelief and regret. “I don’t see how you could expect anything else.”
“I—I—I—” He swallowed, trying to relax his throat, and finally he just said the only thing in his heart. “I want you back.”