with a glass of water. ‘Here. Small sips. Slowly.’ When her breathing had slowed, he stroked her face. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘I’ve been exposed to EAE.’
He frowned. ‘I thought you only did the small-animals side?’
‘I do. But George was run ragged, so I helped him out on Polkerris Farm. He just called to tell me…’ She shuddered. ‘He says the flock’s got EAE.’
‘And when was this that you helped out?’
‘A few weeks back. There wasn’t any sign of it then.’ She shook her head. ‘And George asked me if I was pregnant before I started helping. I said no—because I didn’t think I was. I swear I had no idea. I would never, ever risk our baby like that.’
‘I know you wouldn’t.’ He held her close. ‘First we need to take a blood sample for testing. Has Chloe booked you in yet, done the usual tests?’
‘No. We were going to do that just before the scan.’
‘Right. Well, we can sort that out now. And we need to find out just how pregnant you are. Right now I’d say try not to panic because there’s a very good chance everything’s going to be fine.’ He shifted her very slightly so he could retrieve his mobile phone from his pocket, then dialled a number and waited. ‘Maternity department, please.’
Clearly he was ringing St Piran Hospital.
‘Hello? It’s Dr Dragan Lovak from Penhally. I have a pregnant mum who’s been exposed to EAE, but we’re not sure of her dates. Yes, a few weeks back. No, no bloods or scans yet. That’s great. Forty minutes? That’d be perfect. Thank you so much. Yes. Her name’s Melinda Fortesque. Thank you.’ He cut the connection and looked at Melinda. ‘They’re going to give you a scan to check your dates, and do the blood test. It’s a half-hour drive from here to St Piran, so you’ve got time to wash your face if you want.’ Then he went all inscrutable on her. ‘Would you rather someone else took you? Shall I call Chloe?’
‘No.’ She wanted him. Though right now she didn’t want to move: she was in his arms, just where she belonged.
‘All right. Wash your face while I go and get my car.’
‘What about the press?’
Dragan said something in Croatian that she couldn’t translate but she was pretty sure it was extremely rude. ‘You’re more important,’ he said.
She dragged in a breath. ‘Thank you. It’s more than I deserve after the way I’ve treated you.’ Yes, he’d walked out on her, but she’d told him to leave. And she’d kept him in the dark about too many things.
He made no comment.
‘We can take my car, if it would save time.’
‘OK—but I’ll drive,’ he said, ‘because you’re really not in a fit state.’
She didn’t argue. And she washed her face and cleaned her teeth, then managed to keep herself together while they got to the car.
To her relief, no paparazzi were around. Or, if they were, they kept well hidden.
‘So how can they tell if I’ve been affected by the lambing?’
‘They’ll do a blood test,’ Dragan explained. ‘It’s what they call complement fixation testing, but that on its own won’t tell them if you’ve been exposed to an ovine strain or an avian strain. They’ll do immunofluorescent testing to sort that out.’ He looked grim. ‘Have you had any flu-like symptoms?’
‘No.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Is it?’ She remembered the leaflets she’d read. ‘I thought it was asymptomatic in humans.’
‘It can be,’ he admitted.
‘How’s it treated?’
‘Antibiotics—usually a two-week course of erythromycin.’
She frowned. ‘But aren’t antibiotics bad during pregnancy?’
‘Let’s not cross that bridge just yet. We don’t know you’ve definitely been infected and we don’t know how pregnant you are.’ He took his left hand off the wheel for a moment to hold hers. ‘If it helps, most reported cases of problems are in the period from twenty-four to thirty-six weeks, and I’m pretty sure your dates aren’t in that area. And it’s also very, very rare for someone to lose a baby because of it nowadays.’
‘Because everyone knows the guidelines. If you’re a vet or you work with sheep, and someone in your family’s pregnant, you stay away from them during lambing—you don’t even let them near your clothes or boots, because they can pick it up from there. And it can cause problems with the baby’s development. I’ve seen the leaflets and the advisory notes, Dragan. I know what it can do. And I know what it can do to me, too. DIC.’
‘Disseminated intravascular coagulation is an extremely rare complication.’
‘But it’s a possibility.’ One which could kill her, if the heavy bleeding went along with shock and infection. She’d once heard Chloe talk about it and it had shocked her that in this century women could still die in childbirth. ‘So are complications of the liver and the kidneys. And EAE can lead to a woman losing the baby.’
‘In the severe form of the disease. And the chances are very high that you don’t have that.’
‘But what if I do? What if I’ve got it and I don’t have the symptoms?’ She dragged in a breath. ‘I didn’t know I was pregnant when I went out to the farm. I swear I didn’t.’
‘Nobody’s blaming you, carissima. And it’s going to be all right.’
‘Is it? You can’t give me a guarantee, can you?’ She released his hand and wrapped her arms round her abdomen. ‘I can’t lose this baby, I can’t.’ Her breath came out in a shudder. ‘It’s all I have left of you.’
As the words penetrated his brain, Dragan was stunned.
Melinda was so upset that clearly she was speaking from the heart instead of playing a role.
And what she’d just said…
It’s all I have left of you.
She wanted the baby because it was his, not to get her out of being queen of Contarini.
So these past few days of hell, when he’d thought she’d used him and had never really loved him—he’d been completely wrong. Paranoid, stupid and just plain wrong.
Because Melinda loved him.
She really, really loved him.
And she wanted this baby because it was his.
Right now she was vulnerable. Her real self, not hiding. And she needed him to be strong for her. Needed him. Wanted him. After all, when she’d thought she’d been calling Chloe, she’d rung his number. He was the one she’d needed.
He swallowed hard. ‘You’re not going to lose our baby.’ He hoped to hell she wasn’t. It all depended on whether she’d been infected by the bacterium and what stage the pregnancy was. ‘And you haven’t lost me either. I’m sorry. You gave me a hard time—but I’ve given you a hard time, too. We’re as bad as each other.’
‘I never meant to hurt you.’
‘And I never meant to hurt you.’
Again, he reached across to hold her hand. Her hand gripped his so tightly, she was close to cutting off his circulation, but he didn’t care. And he was glad that they were on a straight bit of road right now with no roundabouts or traffic lights ahead—because he would really, really resent having to loosen her hand to change gear.
‘It’s