She tasted wonderful.

Despite Vicky's ever growing belly, Andrew liked pulling her close to him and pressing his lips on hers. He knew she enjoyed it too, and even if it was only a little bit of happiness, he was very willing to give it to her.

She moaned softly as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth and enjoyed her as much as he could now. Although they often kissed each other, the odd and amazing feeling in belly remained. He knew it was because he loved her, and that made him enjoy it even more.

He moved his hands over her back and shoulders, and wished he could pull her even closer. It had been a while since he had made love her, and he wanted it now more than ever. He loved her, and he wished he could show her, for words did not make up for it.

"Papa," a shy little voice sighed.

He recognized it immediately as Alice's, and he chuckled at her reaction. He was certain Louis was standing next to her, for Andrew had called the children to the sitting room before he started kissing his wife.

With three quick pecks on Vicky's mouth – a habit even the children laughed at – he turned to them and pointed them toward the coach. He and Vicky took the coach opposite them, but then found the children were sitting too far away.

"Come here," he said, which instantly made a smile grow on their faces before they gladly ran toward their parents and came to sit on their laps. "We wish to discuss something with you."

It had been Vicky's idea to involve the children, and Andrew had to admit it was a great thought. Alice was ten and Louis eight, they were both old enough to share their opinion, and he and Vicky would take it into consideration.

"What is it, Papa?" Louis asked impatiently.

Andrew smiled at Vicky before he asked them: "what name would you like your brother or sister to have?"

A big smile appeared on both their faces, and they looked at each other before they looked at their parents for conformation. Could they really help chose a name?

"Vincent!" Louis shouted enthusiastically.

"Emmeline," Alice suggested, "for I want a sister."

"No, I want a brother," Louis argued. "Peter!"

"Catherine!" Alice said, then turned to Vicky. "What do you want?"

"I like Vincent," she admitted. "But for a girl I would like Sophia."

"Sophia?" Alice asked surprised. "But that sound like Sophie!"

Vicky chuckled, for indeed the name sounded a lot like her lady's maid's. But that was exactly what she wanted. The woman had been a great friend to Vicky, and she had stayed with her no matter what. Twas a way of thanking the woman for the great service and friendship, and Andrew really liked the idea.

"Samuel!" Louis shouted, making everyone chuckle for it sounded like Sam, one of their stable boys.

"I like that," Andrew had to admit. "Though I had Simon or Maud in mind."

"Simon is beautiful," Alice commented, "but I do not like Maud."

"Albert!" was Louis' next suggestion. "Not Maud."

Andrew chuckled, for finally he gave his opinion as well.

"Do you like Sophia?" Vicky asked the children, knowing Andrew already liked it.

Alice nodded, while Louis commented: "tis better than Maud."

"And Samuel is beautiful for a boy," Alice said.

"Yes!" Louis said enthusiastic. "Samuel!"

"Sophia for a girl, and Samuel for a boy," Andrew concluded with an approving nod. "I like that."

"As do I," Vicky said with a smile.

"Me too," Alice agreed.

"I do not want a girl," Louis commented, which made everyone chuckle. He too laughed, making Andrew believe that even if it was a girl, he would love her like he loved Alice.

And thus the names were set. Sophia or Samuel would be the next Brompton baby.

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Andrew was in his study, sighing at all the work in front of him. His mind was not really there, for he had reread Elizabeth's letter. If Arthur was starting to threaten them with photograph, everything suddenly became worse.

Having the fear of Arthur's ability to sneak into house was one thing. But to have proof of him being present where he was not invited, ruining the memory, was more frightful than anything else he had done to them.

He looked up from his table to stare at his wife. She was sitting on the coach, a book in her hands and her head directed at it. But she was not reading it, for her eyes were closed. Andrew wanted to comment on it, but he knew she did not like being reminded of seeing flashes – a side effect of the toxaemia of pregnancy.

She would not even tell him when she had them, and Andrew did not understand why. Did it make her feel weak to admit that she was ill? Or was she too shy to admit even such thing to her husband?

Andrew shook his head. Probably she did not want to be reminded of it more than she already was. So he let her sit there in silence, pretending to be reading.

She had fallen down in pain quite a few times in the last months. Andrew feared it was more often than during Louis' pregnancy, and he did not trust it. But even the doctor said there was nothing he could do. The pain – he feared – was something she must suffer through.

He could not help look over at her every once in a while. Especially since his mind was constantly at Arthur, he was glad to be looking at her. He did not want to talk too much about him to her. She already had so much on her head, he did not want her to be even more frightful while thinking of Arthur.

Whatever the man's problems were with Andrew, he should not take them out on Vicky. She merely married for love, and not for the title of lady Duncan. She did not deserve his vengeance, and she did not deserve the fear he brought upon her. His words were mean and meant to chase her away. Andrew was glad it did not work, but he also hated that she stayed while being so afraid. If only she left, one of her worries would be gone.

When he looked at her again, her eyes were open and directed at the book. He smiled, for her suffering was gone again. She might not know he knew, but twas a relief to see her comfortably reading a book again.

Andrew looked back at his desk. He must work, he knew that. But he could not concentrate on it. Vicky's condition was on his mind, and Arthur threats were the only thing that could help him not to think of it. Neither of them were things he really wanted to think of.

There must be a way to catch Arthur. Thomas had had proof once, certainly he should be able to retrieve it all. But how?

Arthur was thorough. If he destroyed something, he made certain everything was destroyed. He had made the mistake once – when trying to burn down Thomas' study in Lindenberg – and he would not make that mistake again.

It feared Andrew. They never knew what was to come. Would Arthur decide upon threatening them more? Or would he take action and make everything worse?

What Arthur would do, Andrew did not trust it. If he had resorted to sending letters and entering their houses, he would be able to live with it. But knowing the man had attended Francis' birthday without any of their knowledge, was truly terrifying. What else would he do?

If he could access their lives so easily, what was he trying to prove? Did he mean to frighten them, or was he preparing for something worse?

He suddenly looked up when he heard Vicky groan softly. She had her eyes closed again, one arm wrapped around her belly. Her face was not directed at the book in her hand, but was contorted in pain.

Panicked, Andrew jumped up and made his way to her. "Vicky," he said softly while he touched her arm, letting her know he was here. Her eyes flashed open and she looked at him, hopeless.

They both knew there was nothing Andrew could do. The pain was something he could not take away. He could only lessen it by giving her laudanum. So he took the small bottle out of the cabinet, poured a glass of water and found a spoon. He walked back to her and sat down on the coach as he put the brown coloured liquid on the spoon and offered it to her.

She shook her head. "I do not want it."

"You need it," he argued.

She dropped her head to lean it on his shoulder and said: "I do not want to need it."

He lifted her head by putting two fingers underneath her chin and pushing it upward until she looked at him. "But you do need it, and I will not let you sit here, suffer through the pain while I can help you."

She shook her head and wanted to comment, but he quickly added: "if you do not take it willingly, I will push the spoon in your mouth when you are screaming out in pain."

It looked like she wanted to throw him a mean look, but her face contorted in pain before she could do so. She dropped it on his shoulder again and tried to silence a moan, but Andrew heard it and hated it. But eventually, when the pain seemed to diminish for a while, she lifted her head off his shoulder and opened her mouth, accepting the spoon. Then she quickly took the glass and emptied it all.

The look she gave him afterwards, reminded him of many years ago, when he gave her the laudanum for the first time. They had drunk too much wine from the Brompton wine cellar and woken up with a lot of pain in their heads. He had given her the laudanum as well, while thinking of the blur that was caused by the alcohol.

They had kissed. Andrew never considered it to be their first kiss, for both were too drunk to fully know what they were doing. There first kiss had been in Duncan, the first she visited it, and the first time he visited it after Arthur's banishment. Still, every time he entered the parlour, he thought of the feeling of her lips on his for the first time – sober.

Twas unforgettable and amazing, and a memory no one – not even Arthur – could take away from them. No matter what would happen to her or their third child, the parlour in Duncan would forever remain the first place he kissed her sweet lips.

After she had put the glass down on the small table nearby, Vicky moved closer to Andrew and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he caressed her hair, trying to defy the urge to take the pins out and admire the beauty of her waist length hair. Eventually, he failed and moved his hand through her beautiful blonde hair.

Whenever she took in laudanum, she got tired, and sometimes she would fall asleep. But today he felt her startle as there was a knock on the door. He hated the knock, for it woke her up, but since she was awake now, he called: "enter."

Mr. Lennard entered the room with a platter on his hand. "A letter has arrived for you, my lord," he announced, bending down so that Andrew could take the letter of the platter. As quickly as he entered, Mr. Lennard exited the room and left them alone.

Vicky laid her head on his shoulder again while Andrew opened the letter. She must have felt him stiffen, for her head shot up, and she weakly asked: "what is it?"

He sighed. He wished he could tell her it was nothing, nothing of import, but he knew she would get curious and find out eventually. So he turned around the photograph he had taken out of the envelope and showed it to her.

She too stiffened, fear entering her eyes. The photograph did not need multiple looks to found out what it showed. Twas clearly a picture of Alice and Louis in their beds, sleeping soundly.

Tears joined the fear and disgust in Vicky's eyes, and she started shaking her head. "I hate him," she whispered, a hand in front of her mouth. "I hate your brother!"

The fear in her eyes was evident, and for a moment, Andrew feared that Arthur's intentions would succeed. He feared that she would be so afraid of Arthur's ire and realize that she was safer and with one less worry when she left him.

But then he felt like slapping his own head. Vicky would never do that. Not only had she promised it when Arthur first made his threat, she had also repeated it multiple times. And though it would solve one worry, she still had another to live with, and he was certain she preferred to have him near her.

It would make her life a little bit easier, but also a little bit more difficult. She would be without Arthur to torture her, but also without Andrew to help her. She also would not want to leave the children behind, nor deny them their father's presence.

Andrew was certain that whatever were to happen, whatever Arthur would do, Vicky would stay with him for as long as she could.