Meant to Bea

CHAPTER TEN

Days went by like a blur. Bianca painfully eased into her daily routine of morning sicknesses, mood swings, loss of appetite, and the occasional pain that sliced through the lower part of her abdomen once in a while. She couldn't say she had gotten acquainted with the pain, but she was beginning to learn to live with it, after first noticing it on one of her morning walks through the garden.

It was the only time she got to leave her bedchamber, and to enjoy the cool breeze of nature without bumping into Race or her sister or anyone else. She would rise up from bed —having spent the entire night tossing and turning and barely sleeping— and would wrap a thin scarf around her shoulders, before silently making her way down the stairs and to the garden. She would sit on the bench for several minutes, her face tilted toward the grey sky as she soaked in the morning air. Then, she would rise to her feet and walk through the cobbled aisles of the garden.

The garden had been her mother's. At least that was what her father said. It was one of the few times she remembered him speaking of her mother. When she realized that she would never have a relationship with her step mother and her half sister, she found solace in the garden, and the library. She would walk through the aisles imagining her mother doing the same while admiring the lovely sunflowers, daffodils, and roses. She would imagine her standing by the water fountain and staring at her clear image in the water, the sun shining down on her.

Being in the garden didn't ease the pain in her heart, but it created a form of escape for a few minutes.

She had risen to her feet on one of those mornings —after spending time in the garden— just when the sun was beginning to light up the sky, and was on her way back to her bedchamber, when she felt it.

Hissing in pain, she halted in her tracks and haunched over, her hand clutching her stomach. She stood still for several seconds, breathing through her mouth until the pain passed.

Since then, she experienced the pain more often than she could count. And while she knew it wasn't normal, she didn't dare mention it to anyone. For some reason, she didn't mention her pregnancy to anyone. Speaking of that pain would warrant summoning a physician, and having a Physician examine her would inevitably lead to the exposure of the news of her pregnancy.

She shook her head and took a sip of her tea; let the pregnancy announce itself. She smacked her lips, detesting the taste of the tea in her mouth; it tasted like dust. But she couldn't keep rejecting food, she was already starting to lose weight. She reached for a cookie and took a bite, chewing it slowly before forcing it down her throat.

There was a knock on the door. She placed the half eaten cookie back in the tray and gave the command to enter.

"My lady." A maid appeared at the door. "Lady Carla wanted to..."

She shook her head. "I do not wish to be disturbed. Here, take this away." She motioned to the full tray of sweets.

The maid stared down at the tray, a small frown creasing her young face. Certainly, she was concerned for her mistress, for Bianca always sent her food back either untouched or barely touched. But rather than question Bianca, she nodded and made her way into the room. Taking hold of the edges of the tray, she straightened and walked out of the room.

Carla must have grown weary of trying to visit with Bianca and getting rejected, for she no longer sent word requesting audience with Bianca. And as the days progressed, the visitor cards dwindled, and the maids showed up to her room only when they were summoned. Since she barely summoned them, she barely saw them.

She didn't see Race either. It seemed to her that he had disappeared, or was simply pleased with her absence. Perhaps her absence gave him the freedom he needed to be with her sister. Perhaps they spent their mornings together. Perhaps they ate lunch and engaged in Carla's favorite past time —gossiping— together. Their evenings were probably spent eating a pleasant dinner, and retiring to their bed of sin together. Certainly Race found pleasure in her sister's body. Surely he found satisfaction in her lips, in the warmth of her body pressed to his, in the rustling of sheets, and the sounds of pleasure emanating from her lips while they engaged in their wicked act.