“So, what was Stephen Kane like?” Gabe asked after reading Emma a story and tucking her into bed. He sat down next to Quinn on the sofa and pulled her into his arms. They hadn’t been able to talk about Quinn’s visit to Leicester with Emma in the room, but Quinn felt Gabe’s gaze on her all through the evening, gauging her mood and offering silent support.
“He was all right. More forthcoming than he needed to be, actually. He said that he’s sterile and couldn’t possibly be my biological father.”
“Do you believe him?” Gabe asked.
“He gave me a sample readily enough, which leads me to believe that he was telling the truth. I’ll verify it with Colin, of course. He also said that Sylvia had been a willing participant in their affair. He called her ‘aware’. Said she knew what she was about,” Quinn said.
“Not an innocent victim then, as she’d like you to believe?”
“Well, it’s his word against hers, as it is with all of them. I don’t think anyone would readily admit to taking advantage of a young girl. And people do tend to rationalize their actions in their minds, turning the facts this way and that until they fit with what they wish to believe of themselves.”
“That’s certainly true.” Gabe nodded and looked away, his gaze fixated on nothing in particular. She knew him long enough to recognize it as a gesture of avoidance. He was bursting to say something, but was desperately trying not to influence her one way or the other, and if she stared him down, he’d crack.
“Gabe, I know what you are thinking, so you might as well look at me,” Quinn said.
“Do you?” Gabe asked, still not making eye contact.
“Yes. You are thinking that Sylvia lied to me again and again, and that she might have manipulated the facts to gain my sympathy.”
“Well, it is possible, is it not?” Gabe replied, turning to face Quinn, eyes narrowed in speculation. Someone who didn’t know Gabe would think that he disliked Sylvia and chose to blame the victim, as many would, but with Gabe, it was nothing personal. He believed in facts which could be supported with solid proof. And, more than anything, he wanted to protect Quinn from getting hurt.
“Yes, it is. Rhys didn’t dispute what happened that night, but then again, he is still guilt-ridden by the whole thing because he was ashamed about being coerced by his friends into doing something he clearly hadn’t been comfortable with, with a girl who was too drunk, or drugged, to put up much of a fight.”
“Look, Quinn, Sylvia might have been pure as the driven snow, or she might have been the village slag; you’ll never know the truth, and ultimately, it’s for you to decide if you want to judge her or just chuck it all up to ancient history. She is, without question, your biological mother, and somewhere out there is your father. Of course, whether Seth Besson raped her or shagged a girl who was a willing partner makes a big difference to any possible relationship you might have with him. So, if or when you meet him, perhaps you should give him a fair chance, since you don’t actually know if he’s guilty.”
“So, now you approve of me meeting him?” Quinn asked, trying to hide her amusement.
“I know that you won’t rest until you do, so I will keep my opinions to myself and follow you to the ends of the earth, or to the United States, in this case. I will help you see this to the bitter end.”
“Thank you, Gabe. That means the world to me.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I want you to be happy, and I know that finding out the truth about your heritage and your gift will bring you peace. And whether you choose to have a relationship with your birth parents or not, you will be a happier person for knowing where you came from.”
“And speaking of being a happier person,” Quinn said, smiling into Gabe’s eyes. “I have something to tell you. I’m pregnant,” she said and watched Gabe’s eyes light up with joy. It wasn’t until that moment that she knew that she was truly happy about her news. She’d taken the pregnancy test while Gabe was with Emma, and the proof now lay at the bottom of the rubbish bin. The test came back positive, just as Quinn knew it would. And she was glad.
Gabe pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Oh, that’s wonderful news, love. I’m thrilled. Sometimes I don’t know who is more psychic, you or my mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“I spoke to her this afternoon and she asked me when you were due.”
“What?! How could she possibly know?”
“She said that she saw it in your eyes when we came to collect Emma. She said you can always tell, if you know what to look for.”
“That’s witchery, that is,” Quinn laughed. “So, what did you tell her?”
“I told her that I would let her know as soon as you finally decided to tell me.”
“You knew?” Quinn demanded, amazed that he hadn’t let on.
“I suspected.”
“How?”
Gabe arched an eyebrow, making Quinn laugh. “Well, for starters, your period is late. You’ve blanched the last two times I ate a bacon butty in your presence, and you have declined offers of wine, which is a flashing neon sign in itself to someone who is familiar with your boozy habits.” Quinn playfully smacked his arm, acknowledging the truth of everything he said.
“You’ve also been more tired lately, and often close to tears for no apparent reason.” Gabe cupped her cheek and met Quinn’s gaze. “You didn’t seem pleased with the possibility, so I thought I’d give you a little time to sort your feelings out, if it proved to be true. And it seems that you have.”
“You really notice things, don’t you?” Quinn asked as she touched Gabe’s cheek. “You really care.” Luke wouldn’t have noticed a thing; he’d been too absorbed in himself, and his reaction to this type of news would have been displeasure and some sort of a rebuke, blaming her for allowing it to happen. Luke wouldn’t have cared how she felt, only how the situation would affect him.
“Don’t you ever doubt it,” Gabe replied, covering her hand with his own. “I love you, and I love our baby.”
“I love you too, Gabe. More than you’ll ever know. There’s no one else I’d rather have a child with.”
Quinn leaned into Gabe and he put his arm around her, pulling her close. “We’re not making it to the altar, are we?” Quinn giggled. “I’m not waddling down the aisle, looking like a cream puff.”
“We have a few months before you begin to show, don’t we? I really would prefer to do this right, Quinn. I know it sounds old-fashioned, but I want our child to know that we were married when he was born.”
“He?”
Gabe laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“What’s so funny?” Quinn demanded.
“My mother asked when ‘he’ is due. Phoebe Russell hasn’t been wrong in forty years, so yes, it’s a boy.”
Quinn laid her hand gently over her flat stomach. A boy. A son. The idea made her unbearably happy. She would be just as happy with a girl, but the notion of a boy felt right somehow, as if some Earth Mother instinct was alive and well within her.
“So, what are you saying?” Quinn asked, her mind reluctantly returning to their conversation.
“I’m saying that we should set a date. April would be too soon, but maybe in May? Call your parents and tell them to book a flight, and if you don’t feel like dealing with the details of planning a wedding, there’s nothing my mother would enjoy more. Just tell her what you like, and leave it in her capable hands. All you have to do is buy a dress and show up at the church. What do you say?”
Quinn considered this for a moment. Was it really that simple? She’d always imagined a big, white wedding, but what she wanted at this stage of her life was a small, intimate affair with only friends and family. Suddenly, getting married in Berwick seemed like a lovely idea. They could have a wedding reception at the house or out in the garden if the weather was fine. In May, everything would be in bloom, and with any luck, the sky would actually be blue rather than that particular shade of English slate-gray.
Quinn reached for her mobile and opened the calendar. “May 24th,” she proclaimed. “I will be about four months pregnant then. With the right gown, I can pull it off.”
“May 24th,” Gabe agreed and kissed her tenderly. “Shall we put General Russell in charge?”
“I think your mother has just been promoted to Brigadier. I’ll draw up a list of ideas and discuss it with her, and I’ll ask Jill to find me a dress. She’ll know exactly what I’ll need.”
Gabe removed the phone from Quinn’s hand and pushed her down onto the sofa.
“Oh no, you don’t. Emma can walk in at any moment.”
“Right,” Gabe chuckled. “I keep forgetting we have to act like respectable, law-abiding citizens.”
He stood up and scooped Quinn into his arms, easily carrying her to their bedroom and kicking the door shut with his foot. Quinn’s last coherent thought was that she quite liked being respectable.