Two weeks had passed since the harrowing night at Aldridge Port. Two weeks in which Carleton had become a cocoon of safety and quiet recuperation for Suzy. The physical bruises from her ordeal had faded away, but there was something else: the new reality of her pregnancy. Suzy, as she still often thought of herself in these bewildering times, was indeed feeling better, stronger, but life had undeniably changed.
Her appetite, for instance, had become a fickle. One morning, the mere aroma of Mrs. Madelyn's usually beloved honey-glazed chicken would send her fleeing the dining room, only for her to crave pickled onions and sweet biscuits an hour later.
Ryan had poor Mrs. Madelyn in a perpetual state of kitchen distress, trying to anticipate his Duchess's fleeting fancies. "Perhaps a little poached salmon, Mrs. Madelyn?" he'd suggest anxiously if Suzy pushed her plate away. "Or some stewed pears? Her Grace seemed to enjoy pears yesterday."
