73.

Proserpina

Strangely enough, I found that there was now a change in my attitude to the baby and to the world around me. Possibly because the little devil in me had begun to allow me to eat without forcing me to rush to the washroom to throw up, I thought, half amusedly. I had an idea that the child I was carrying would be more like Ria, a tyrant.

To be fair to him, Lucien had fixed an appointment with the old doctor who had arrived at the house, as crusty as ever. But after examining me, he had seemed more satisfied and informed me that the child seemed to be growing well. He also seemed to be agreeable with my gain in weight and left after prescribing more vitamins. I dozed off, feeling a strange sense of peace.

Dreaming of Bhutan and the cool hills, I woke up and stretched languidly and yelped in alarm as I saw a figure looming at the edge of my bed. I sat up in fright and winced as the movement resulted in a flutter in my belly. Lucien stood there, as dark and broodingly enigmatic