Chapter Forty-Seven
AMSTERDAM, 1630
Clara bolted upright. ‘I’m burnt.’
Nico’s arms closed around her. ‘You were dreaming.’ He eased her back down against her pillows. ‘Nothing’s burnt you.’
‘What …?’ When the child began to kick, she took Nico’s hand and placed it on her belly. ‘I’ve woken her and made her cross. And I’ve woken you. Forgive me.’
‘Are you sure this is a girl? These kicks are mighty powerful.’
Clara rested her hand beside his. Glad he kept her company most nights, now. ‘Maria, I’m certain of it.’ She lifted her finger, almost expecting to see a tiny burn mark. ‘I dreamt about burning it on a candle flame.’
‘A common occurrence, so a common dream,’ he said drowsily.
‘It was a painted candle flame.’ She turned to face him. ‘I don’t know if it really happened or if it w
