The Outlaw (Now on Radish)

Chapter 11

Nearly three months into the torturous project and Victor's lawyers were finally making progress. There were days when Victor never came to bed, and other days I would find Victor and Papa asleep in their study. David came to the house in late July, after Albert and I turned nineteen. He brought his children with him, Winifred and Wilbur. They were a year apart; Winifred was nine and Wilbur was ten. They were a wonderful distraction from the trial work. Then August rolled around, causing my heart to break a little more. Daniel and Albert had to leave for school.

This time everything was different. Yes, I would miss my brothers terribly, but I was no longer weak. I would be able to handle their leaving so much better than before. I was stronger, emotionally and physically.

"Miss Abby!" Winifred called, running towards me. I opened my arms to her, catching her with great ease. "Will you read me a story? Papa is busy with Mr. Victor." It was early morning and Victor had spent another night in the study. I was not angry with him. Anything to clear his name was acceptable. I took Winifred's hand and led her back to my room, her little feet echoing on the wood floor. We kept her favorite book on my night stand, since she would visit me in the wee hours of the morning. The nights that Victor stayed in the room were comforting, and he adored Winifred. I watched the girl climb onto my bed and lay against my husband's pillow. I collected the Little Mermaid from the night stand and joined her on the bed.

As I read to the child, my heart swelled. She leaned into me and began to doze off, trusting me as she would her own mother. Victor and I had not discussed the idea of children. We wanted to wait and see if he had a chance at survival. There was very real possibility that I was carrying his child, and I did not know if he even wanted any. He knew I wanted children, as many as God graced me with. We never discussed how.

Victor slipped into the room as the sun peaked over the horizon. He was disheveled; his hair tousled and his shirt was crumpled. He looked handsome, yet exhausted. He turned his head towards me as he discarded his shoes and cravat, grinning at the sight before him.

"Did she spend the night again?" He whispered, coming over to the bed.

"She woke up early, claiming she could not sleep. Not ten pages into the story she fell asleep. She is too heavy for me to carry and I dared not wake her." I whispered, watching my husband sit on the edge of the bed. He leaned down and kissed my lips softly, his teeth tugging gently at my lower lip.

"I shall bring Miss Clark back to her bed, then we may continue our kiss." He murmured, taking Winifred into his arms. As soon as he left the room, I pressed a hand to my stomach, thumbing circles around it. Victor would love our child, if we were to ever conceive one. Victor entered our room quickly, jumping onto our bed with ease. He kissed me passionately, laying me against the pillows. He slowly began pulling my night gown up, caressing my soft legs in his hands.

"God, I missed you, Abigail." He rumbled, pulling back to look at me.

"Victor," I said breathlessly. "I must ask you something." Victor pulled me into his lap as he sat up, cradling me like a precious bird.

"Anything, Abigail." He mumbled, pressing small kisses along my neck.

"Do you want a family, darling?" I whispered in his ear.

"One day I do, preferably through adoption." He said against my collar bone. "As much as I would love to see you grow fat with our child, I fear that pregnancy would hurt you greatly." I knotted my fingers in his hair, coercing him to look at me.

"What if I am pregnant, Victor?" I asked as his hands splayed over my stomach.

"Then I will love our baby with all my soul." He said, looking me in the eyes. "But if the pregnancy does not agree with you, Abigail, I would never put you through that again. All that added weight the baby brings would destroy your back." I watched as Victor brought his face closer to mine, his lips hovering in the most provocative way.