The Bastard (Darling #2) [complete]

Chapter Twelve

F O R  T H E second time that day, Louelle found herself combing through her nest of hair. Instead of doing so with the frustration she felt that morning, she then felt at ease and as if a weight had physically been lifted off of her shoulder. Since having her conversation with Dane, having gotten everything that was bothering her off of her chest, the rest of her day had gone on smoothly.

It did not mean that she didn't have her reservations of being back in the castle - having to pretend that she was alright with the love of her life courting her sister. She was worried they'd be able to convince King James not to follow through with the marriage - if they could. He was a stubborn man and never admitted when he was wrong. In his eyes, she believed he never thought he was wrong.

But since speaking openly with Dane, the worries she had were not weighing as heavily on her shoulders as they were. She was not going to go through the pregnancy alone. She had a group of people behind her to protect her, as Dane had said.

She did feel slightly guilty that she was part of the cause for them all to defy their king, which was quite unruly; however, they were all doing it willingly without hesitation.

She still could not help but to think: were they all powerful enough together to change the king's mind? The optimistic side of her screamed yes, while the side coated in negativity shouted no. Although she knew the band of people she and Thatcher had in their corner, she was running out of optimism. She was running out of hope, and she was running out of hope because they were running out of time.

Circumstances had changed things then. She was with child. In order to not cause speculation on when the child was conceived, she and Thatcher needed to be wedded.

Quickly.

As if he knew she was thinking of him, Thatcher tapped on her balcony door before he quietly entered. She casted a small smile in greeting over her shoulder.

"I have missed you all day long, my love," he said, planting a tender kiss on her cheek. He lazily sprawled out on her bed, laying on his side with the palm of his hand keeping his head held upright, his arm in the shape of an 'L'.

Louelle did not respond to his statement regarding him missing her, but he remained unfazed as he watched her aimlessly comb through her hair. He had always loved to watch her ready herself for bed - that was when she did not have the assistance from Ruby. When her lady in waiting did help her, she was usually all ready to climb into bed with him. On the rare occasion when she prepared herself for sleep, he'd come down and watch her.

He loved the way her fingers flicked through her hair after the comb left a trail of smooth, shiny blonde. He loved the look of utter peace she had on her face as the comb first massaged her scalp before traveling through her long strands. It was her time of solitude, he'd heard her say on more accounts that one - a time where she was able to release the stresses of the day and bask in the night's quietness.