The servants' wing was unusually quiet at sunrise. Grace moved through its narrow halls with a basket of blankets, eager to distract herself from the weight in her chest.
Then she heard it—soft retching behind the linen cupboard.
She pushed the door open.
Caroline was hunched over a basin, arms braced on the wall, one hand protectively resting on a barely rounded belly.
Their eyes met.
“You shouldn't be here," Caroline whispered.
“Neither should you," Grace said coldly. “You were supposed to be on a wagon hours ago."
Caroline wiped her mouth, face pale. “He said it wasn't safe yet."
Grace's gaze dropped to the swell beneath Caroline's robe. “You're pregnant."
Caroline straightened, defensive. “It's not what you think—"
“Save it." Grace dropped the basket. “You lied to my face. Bo
