Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 631

"I know," Mary murmured, her hand resting protectively on her belly. "But... what

if, after he's born, he isn't recognized as Ferdinand's child?"

Not Ferdinand's child?

Briony's gaze sharpened, trying to read Mary's intent. "What are you saying?"

Mary met her eyes steadily. "Briony, I've been having nightmares lately." She changed the subject so abruptly that Briony's brows knitted in concern.

"I keep dreaming I'll die in childbirth," Mary whispered, “and Ferdinand dies too." Briony pressed her lips together, silent for a moment.

She remembered when she was pregnant with the twins-how nightmares plagued her, too. The dark visions always seemed to foreshadow something awful. Later, when she delivered early and nearly bled out, the bloody chaos was eerily similar to what she'd seen in her dreams.

Maybe it was a mother's sixth sense.

Was Mary's nightmare another warning? A mother's gut instinct?

If Ferdinand died, would that mean Stewart's people had finally succeeded? That would be a good thing... for everyone else.

But what about Mary? So blameless in all of this.

Briony didn't want Mary's fate to mirror her dreams. Mary had only loved the wrong man; she wasn't lost beyond hope. And the child she was carrying-the child was entirely innocent.

own; neither Mary nor her baby

"Pregnancy makes dreams more vivid, especially if

lips curving with bittersweet understanding. "Briony, you do care about

They were both women who'd survived unhappy childhoods, and Briony felt a kinship—a quiet

but with Ferdinand... you lost yourself in him. Still, you and your baby are innocent. Ferdinand's sins are his alone. If you ever get the chance, I hope you'll find the strength to leave him, take your child, and start over somewhere safe. You deserve

with something unspoken.

resistance, a need

was a good

to walk away from Ferdinand, maybe there was

was left now was to

to drift off when the bedroom

suit jacket slung over one arm. His white dress shirt hung open at

her, sinking down on

of whiskey hit her at

she could react, his hot palm pressed against the

are

firmly on his chest, glaring at him. "You're drunk. Stay

glassiness in his eyes and the way he slurred

it wasn't the comforting kind of

had been meant

celebration, a pre-wedding dinneret