Several days later, Caroline poured tea for her mother as the maid stoked the dying embers of the fire in Lady Randolph’s morning room, before adding more coals to the grate. Caroline’s father was resting comfortably in his bed upstairs, and before Caroline went home to an empty house, she’d thought she’d try to broach a subject that had been plaguing her of late. If only the maid would finish her tasks and leave.

Now that Caroline was married, she hoped she could to talk to her mother about certain things. Things she wanted to know, especially since she wanted a child. And even more especially since she hadn’t been able to conceive one as yet, even though she hoped and prayed she had succeeded this time.

She felt awkward, but needed to broach this subject. She needed answers.

Caroline handed her mother the cup and saucer, then she took her normal seat across from her. Her mother added another lump of sugar to the one Caroline had put in her cup, then stirred.

“Caroline, where has the captain gone this time?”

“To Scotland, to check on a potential investment.” She needed to ask she reminded herself. Her mother would drag her into a conversation about the weather in Scotland if she didn’t just plow forward and ask.

“Scotland? In winter? I cannot imagine it! He couldn’t wait a few months for the weather to turn? It’s so cold there at this time of year, and you know how the cold bothers his leg…”

“He has a coat, mama.”

“Well, does he have a warm hat for his head? And a knitted scarf? They are very important, you know.”

Caroline loved her mother, even though she worried over the most trivial things. She supposed that’s what all mothers did when those they loved were braving the elements—whether it was the heat of summer or dead of winter. The maid finished with the fire and silently removed herself from the room, leaving the two ladies alone.

Ask her!

“Hopefully he’ll not be snowed in where he’s going,” her mother added. “If he is, you’ll not see him for a month or more.”

“He’ll be home in a few weeks, Mama.”

“Will you be safe, home alone, for all that time? Perhaps you should stay here…”

“No Mother, I’ll be fine.” She had to ask her questions so she could be on her way. If she stayed much longer, Mama would insist she remain here and implore her father to make her stay. And Caroline was never good at telling her papa no. Nor her mother come to think of it.

“Mama,” she began, wondering how she could phrase her question so that she wasn’t prying into her mother’s private affairs. This wasn’t going to be easy. She took a sip from her cup and set both cup and saucer on the side table. “Mama, did you ever want more children after me?”

The clink of her mother’s bone china cup landing on the saucer reverberated through the room. Caroline held her breath and waited. A minute or more went by while her mother collected her thoughts, took another sip, then put the cup on the table next to hers. The silence stretched so long that Caroline wondered if her mother would even answer.

“You know I always wanted sisters and brothers, Mama,” Caroline said. “My cousins and friends all had siblings.”

Her mother grew more nervous, obviously uncomfortable speaking on a topic that was painful for her. “Well, of course I did, Caroline. It just wasn’t… wasn’t to be. The good Lord saw fit to only grant me one child.”

“Mama, I’m sorry if this upsetting, but I have to ask. Did you…?” This was so awkward. “Mama… did you try? Because I… Trey and I, we are trying, and… I have been unsuccessful. And I’m wondering if there is any pre-disposition to—difficulty. In conceiving, that I do not know of.”

Her mother began to fan herself with her kerchief and her color rose in her cheeks. “Oh, my… You know your father’s side of the family is very fertile. Every one of his brothers and sisters have many children.”

Her mother blotted her forehead. Caroline was beginning to think that the maid shouldn’t have added so much coal to the hearth, because she, too, was beginning to feel the excessive heat. Or maybe it was the subject matter she was attempting to discuss with her mother. The woman who never told Caroline a thing about her body, or the marriage bed. Thankfully, she’d had a governess, a maid, friends, and books to explain… things.

Her mother still fanned herself with her kerchief. “I… tried. I was plagued— I was unable—” More blotting of her face, and now her neck and cleavage. “It was not for lack of trying, you know. After all, I have always been a dutiful wife.”

Caroline wouldn’t call what she shared with Trey “being dutiful,” because she enjoyed her husband’s body. But she couldn’t say that to her mother. It might send her into apoplectic fits.

“I suffered through several miscarriages before you were born.” Rather than the hesitant words of before, they poured from her mother all of the sudden. “And after as well. When I realized I was carrying you, I was sent to bed for the duration and not allowed out for the entire nine months. The midwife had me drink a horrid mixture of herbs to help me keep you where you needed to be until you were born.”

Her mother began to weep now. Silent tears that tore at Caroline’s heart and conscience. She hated the fact that she’d upset her mother, but if she hadn’t asked, how would she have ever known? She went to her mother and hugged her. As over-protective, and at times over-bearing, as she was, Caroline loved her mother, because her mother loved her and would do anything within her power to see her only child happy.

“Thank you for telling me, Mama. I wanted to know if there was a chance that I might have a difficult time getting… with child.” Of course, her mother just confirmed all of her worst fears. For while it would be difficult, it wasn’t completely impossible. She was proof of that.

“You might want to see a midwife,” her mother said between sniffing and wiping her tears. “I obviously haven’t needed the services of one in many years, but if you explain to her what problems you are having, and then tell her what I told you, she should be able to help you. There are herbs to help.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Caroline hugged her mother and told her she would be back the following morning. She didn’t know who to ask for a referral to a midwife, but she was certain their housekeeper, having been raised in this village, would know.

A horrible thought crossed her mind as she rode in the carriage back to her home. With what she just learned, there was a very good chance that she might never be able to give her husband children. She pressed her hands to her womb, and prayed there was a child there. If not… A painful knot formed in her breast, and Caroline felt the tears begin to burn her eyes. If she couldn’t give her husband an heir, would he even want to remain married to her?

Surely he would. He loved her. Many couples grew old together in childless marriages. Marriage was forever. Till death do us part. Trey had been as heart broken as she each time she’d thought she might be pregnant only to discover she wasn’t.

But if he realized there might never be a chance, would he wish to remain in the marriage? He was thirty-five years old—young enough still that if he had their marriage annulled, he could remarry a woman who was more fertile than she obviously was. Because at twenty-one years of age, Caroline was now faced with the very real possibility that she might never bear a child.

Forcing herself to keep her emotions in check, she mumbled a greeting to their butler as she entered her home, and went straight to her rooms. She couldn’t break down in front of the staff. As she’d grown up right next door, most of them would think her father had had setback.

But it was her heart that was breaking. Her life that might possibly change forever if she could never give her husband a son.

* * *

Trey followed the doctor’s assistant down a dark paneled corridor to the man’s office. He leaned heavily on his cane, his right leg aching more today than it had in a while. The weather here in Edinburgh had been freezing cold and damp since he arrived. Both of which aggravated his injury.

He’d arrived in Edinburgh two days earlier and awaited his appointment with the man who might be able to help him.

Dr. Edmund Drake was the foremost medical biologist in all Britain, and he didn’t take many patients as he was a research scientist. But Trey had been told that if anyone could tell him whether he was indeed sterile beyond all hope, it was Dr. Drake. The man had a highly specialized piece of equipment that could see the tiniest of life forms—sperm cells—in a man’s ejaculate and say whether it was alive or not.

And that’s all Trey wanted to know. Once he knew for certain if it was even possible for him to sire a child, then he could plan what to tell Caroline. She would be devastated for certain if he could not. But he hoped adopting children would make up for the upset she would feel at not growing large with their child.

He remembered that night a few days after they’d married… It still bothered him, and likely would forever. Because that was the night he’d begun hiding the truth from her. Caroline placed a hand over her womb, a place Trey kissed each time they made love. “I cannot wait to have your babe here,” his new wife had said. He’d agreed with her, deliberately hiding the fact that it was unlikely to happen.

It had been almost a year and a half since then, and still nothing. It was time now for him to learn the truth. He needed to know.

The frosted glass door opened and Trey caught a glimpse of a laboratory on the other side. The man crossing the room appeared no older than him, his reddish brown hair going gray a bit at the temples. That, and his spectacles, gave the man an appearance of superior intelligence. His entire outfit, from the woolen trousers to his linen shirt was a tad wrinkled, and he wore no coat, only a waistcoat that had seen better times.

Trey stood and extended his hand. “Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Drake.”

“What can I do for you, Captain Wilson?”

Trey shifted in his seat, either from unease at discussing a topic so personal, or from the ache in his leg, he was unsure. But he’d faced the enemy in battle nearly a dozen times in the four years he served in the Dragoons, explaining his current condition was not nearly as fearsome.

“I was injured at Orthez, and as a result—” He paused, suddenly unsure if he should be here, doing this. No, he had to know. He couldn’t let the fear take over his mind. There was a chance there was nothing wrong with him. “I believe I may have been rendered sterile.”

“May I ask how you found me?” The man took a seat in the big wing chair behind his desk. “I don’t normally see patients.”

“A friend of mine came to me after he’d read about your studies with your microscope. He thought if anyone could— could tell if I was, indeed, unable to sire children, that it would be you.” The man across from him was silent a while as he began to write some notes on a sheet he’d removed from the drawer. His silence lasted over a full minute. Making Trey fear he was about to be turned away. If the doctor did this, Trey didn’t know what he’d do.

Suddenly the man set his quill aside, and spoke. “Tell me about your injury, the recovery, what your previous physicians have said, and then I’d like to see the scars if you don’t mind.”

Hope began to well back up his breast, and thus began an hour-long thorough exam, of the likes Trey had never experienced before. And the final, humiliating request from Dr. Drake, was for Trey to give him his ejaculate. Thankfully, the man left the room while Trey took care of that. When Trey knocked on the connecting door, the doctor took his specimen dish.

“I will be back in a few minutes, it shouldn’t take long. I’ll make two or three samples from this and look at them under the microscope to see if there are living sperm cells in the semen.” The doctor took the clear glass plate and disappeared behind the frosted glass door.

Trey’s thoughts went back to Caroline. They always did. While it was true he had been uncertain of his ability to sire children before their marriage, he knew there might be an issue, his previous doctors had said as much. And Trey had intentionally kept this information from his wife because he wanted her.

But it was more than just want. He needed her.

While the mistress he’d kept for a few years had been skilled in ways to help him recover his ability to make love to a woman, she didn’t arouse him the way Caroline did. Trey wanted Caroline with a desire he’d never experienced before, even before his injury.

But, thinking on it, he just may have made the worst decision of his life coming here. Would it really be better to know he was never going to give his wife the child she wanted, or not to know for certain and continue living in oblivion, hoping for the best? He didn’t know. The only thing he did know was that he had made a promise to himself: whatever the outcome here, he would have to tell his wife. He had to tell her and hope that she might consider adopting children to make their family complete.

Trey flipped the lid of his pocket watch to check the time and read the tiny inscription to him from Caroline. To My Husband, All My Love, C. A few minutes turned into several minutes, turned into nearly thirty minutes. The longer the doctor was away, the greater his worry grew. It couldn’t be good news if it was taking him this long. If there were any cells alive in those samples, surely the doctor would have returned by now.

Lord help him, what was he going to tell Caroline? How was she going to handle this news? She’d confided in him that she hoped to give him a child soon. With her father’s precarious health, she’d wanted to give her parents a grandchild while her father still lived.

Another few minutes and the doctor was back, resuming his seat behind his large desk. He scribbled something on the page he’d been taking his notes on about Trey’s history of his injury.

“Captain Wilson, it seems the fever you had following your injury was devastating to your ability to reproduce.” He set his quill down. “I found very few live, motile sperm cells in your ejaculate.”

“But there were some?” Trey asked, holding out hope.

“Very few, I’m afraid. I normally look for living cells in two of three slides. In your case, the density was so scant that we performed four tests just to see living cells in two slides. I wanted to be certain what I was seeing.”

“So, I can have no children of my own seed?”

The tone of the physician’s voice was not encouraging. “I’m afraid that will be unlikely. Not impossible, but… unlikely.”

Silence stretched between them, like a tangible pain in gut. Almost like a fear that knew no end.

“Is there nothing that can be done to reverse this?”

Dr. Drake shook his head. “Not that I know of. I’m sorry.” When Trey rose to go, the doctor came around to meet him, shaking his hand again. “Many men were rendered sterile due to their injuries during the different wars,” he added. “You really should count yourself among the fortunate ones in that you can still perform. And, remember Captain, I said unlikely, not impossible.”

“Yes, thank you. I will keep that in mind,” Trey said absent-mindedly. The doctor’s words were like a kick in the balls. The pain stole the breath from his chest. Forced his heart to clench. But hardened soldier that he was, he’d been trained not to react publicly. He’d wait until he was back at the hotel. Only two people in his adult life had ever seen his tears. His best friend, Huddleston, and his wife.

Trey didn’t remember the walk back to his hotel. He remembered that there was a light snow falling, nothing that was sticking to the ground. It wasn’t even a pretty snowfall. It was gray, like the day. Like his mood. Fat clumps of snowflakes and round sleet pellets all falling together, each cluster coated with black soot from the cloud covering the city. He gave a twisted laugh. That cloud was nowhere near as dark as his soul at that moment.

How was he going to break the news to Caroline? How was he going to tell her that the one thing she wanted so very much, was likely never going to happen?

When he arrived at his hotel suite, Travers met him at the door and assisted him with his cape and hat. The muscle of his inner thigh tensed and began to quiver. Trey knew that he had to find a seat soon, for he would soon be in excruciating pain. Again. He’d missed his daily walks for the past week, having been cooped up in his carriage, then in this hotel while it rained. Now that the weather was worsening, the leg was sure to act up more frequently because he couldn’t get out and move. He may have to resort to pacing the length of this room.

His man must have noticed. “Come sit in front of the fire, Captain. I’ll call for your tea. Were you going to dine out again, sir? Or have dinner in the hotel restaurant?”

“I believe I shall return to the pub a few doors down,” Trey said, “but only after I warm these bones.”

“Yes sir.”

The man went about his business and Trey contemplated adopting children. Adopting would deprive Caroline of the experience of carrying a child in her body. But to have children, as many as she wanted, would she be willing to give that up? He wasn’t completely sure.

Raising children not of his own blood, was something that caused a pain in his heart, but… he didn’t think it would matter for some reason. He just hoped he could convince Caroline that it might be an equally rewarding option to building their family.

Or he could always pray for a miracle. He gave a half-hearted chuckle under his breath at that thought. As if that would do a damn bit of good. Every time he’d begged for a miracle before, his prayers were met with cold emptiness and incredible pain. It might appear that he had the greatest miracle of them all—life. But what good was it when he could never create it with the woman he loved?

While he’d told himself that he would tell Caroline the truth after he saw Dr. Drake, he now doubted he could. She would surely despise him. She was too sweet to say it aloud, but she would feel it, as would he. And he didn’t think he could live with that. In his head, he kept hearing, “Everything is fine right now. Why ruin it by telling her something that will break her heart?”

Several hours later found him seated at a corner booth in the same tavern, The Ram’s Head, where he’d eaten for the past two nights. The food was tasty and filling and the hearty ale, quenching, which was why he returned. He unfolded the newspaper that he picked up from the lad in the street as he left the hotel.

He skimmed the sensational headlines as he sipped his ale and waited on his dinner. The text on the page before him was blur as he thought about his situation. He decided he was glad to finally know. That was all he really wanted—to know the truth. Now he did. Having children was possible, but unlikely. And he resolved to not tell his wife this. It would upset her. Coward that he was, he would rather lie and pretend nothing and contend with her monthly disappointment, than to tell her the truth and have her look down upon him. Or worse, stop loving him because he couldn’t fulfill the purpose of a marriage, to create children.

If she ever learned of this trip and its results, he was certain it would give her grounds for an annulment, even a divorce. He loved her beyond words, he couldn’t lose her. He would do nothing to jeopardize her love.

Two young men sat at the table next to his booth. They were both of the age to be in university, fresh-faced and lean. Much like he’d been in his youth. Before the war had jaded him, and changed his future forever. He prayed that no other young man should ever be called upon to fight in war ever again. He prayed he never saw war again in his lifetime or his children in theirs. If he ever had children.

The sound of chairs scraping the floor reverberated throughout the noisy taproom causing him to raise his gaze from the newspaper. No one else seemed to be bothered by sound. But to him, it sounded like a horse’s screams—something he will never, ever forget.

His lamb stew arrived, bringing him back to the present. The maid took his mug to bring him another ale, and took the order from the lads at the table next to him. After the maid returned with his ale, Trey spooned another bite of succulent lamb into his mouth, when the conversation next to him caught his attention. Their voices lowered, the two began to discuss something one of them found important.

“How long do you think it will take?” The darker-haired young man asked.

“Alan, I’ve told Jenny I’ll visit her daily until we get the deed done,” said the auburn-haired man. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“Jenny said MacNeelon’s younger brother and his wife are circling, waiting to see if she gives the laird an heir,” Alan said. “She loves him you know, and she’s hoping that he lives.”

“I know she loves him,” the first said. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

Trey pretended interest in the news item on the page, and continued to eavesdrop. He didn’t know why, but the intriguing story that was unfolding at the table to his left held his attention.

“The drunken fool fell from his horse and went headfirst into a stone wall,” the second man said. “If he lives, there isn’t much hope he will return to his previous self.”

“How can you be so certain?” the first lad asked. “Miracles happen every day, Derek.”

“I’m the one in medical school. You should stick to studying law.” Silence, then the first man, the one named Derek, spoke again. “Has his brother seen the MacNeelon’s condition? If so, he’ll know for certain that he could not possibly sire a child now.”

“His brothers haven’t seen him at all. And right now, Jenny’s not likely to let them. I think she’s afraid that they will give him up for dead when he’s not.”

“It’s just a matter of time,” Derek said.

Their dinners arrived and the two gave their attention to their meal for several minutes, while they continued to mumble. Trey couldn’t discern what they were saying. Then Alan, Jenny’s brother, hissed, “Which is why you have to help her now. You have the look of your kinsman. And it has to appear as though she got with child on their wedding trip.”

Silence again as the two men ate. Now he knew Derek and the nearly-dead laird of the clan MacNeelon were kin. The plot thickened.

Trey was starting to feel a bit of a voyeur, listening to the conversation intently as he was pretending to read. He pushed the stew around in the bowl and took another bite. Trey didn’t recall the name MacNeelon, but the situation sounded dire, and the man’s wife’s solution to her problem equally drastic.

But the more he thought about it, a kernel of… something… began to form in his brain.

He couldn’t possibly consider it. The circumstances between the two cases were completely different. Trey loved his wife and was still alive. This Jenny person had a husband who unfortunately already had a foot in the grave.

Suddenly the thought of another man making love to his wife—even if it was to create their child—made his dinner rise in his gut. He swallowed hard. The sound of his own heart beating began to fill his ears, along with the woosh of blood moving through his body. He flipped the page on the newspaper as he continued to listen.

“Have your mother be prepared to help your sister when he passes on. I’ve seen him, Alan, he’s not long for this world.” More incoherent mumbling as he strained to hear what was being said, but his meal wasn’t sitting well in his belly and he needed out of the stuffy tavern.

Trey took his leave of the establishment. He felt heartsick at the thought of another man touching his wife. But he would allow it if that was what Caroline desperately wanted—a child of her own body.

He knew there was a difference between making love and just satisfying himself on a woman. He’d done that many times before he’d married. But men were supposed to, a lady was not.

If Caroline wanted to have a child, he would fight his instinct to kill any man who touched his wife, and go though with it.

Just the thought of another man touching her, and loving her as he did, made his stomach churn violently. He fought it down, but it was of no use. He stopped at the alley and heaved everything he’d just eaten between the garbage bin and stone wall.

No. He could never let another man do what he could not. It would kill him. He would have to live with his failure, even if it cost his wife her greatest dream.