Realizations

[Sarah Marlowe]

Sarah wiped her mouth, having emptied the contents of her stomach into a handy bucket once more. She had tried, the last few days, to tell herself that it was merely something she ate. Unfortunately, she could keep up the lie no more. She had missed her cycle, and other than her need to bow over a house elf supplied basin every morning she felt fine. She had not eaten something that did not agree with her, nor caught some odd Italian disease. Venice was not to blame; rather it was the loss of her virginity that was to blame.



She had not expected this to happen so quickly, although perhaps she should have. Her mother got herself with child practically every time that she allowed herself to have relations with a man. It should have been no surprise, therefore, that Sarah found herself carrying her husband's heir less than a month into her marriage. She fancied it had probably happened the first night, when she had given her maidenhood to her husband.



She hoped it was a boy. Men always wanted sons.



There was only one thing left to do. With a little more than two weeks left in their six week honeymoon, Sarah needed to inform her husband that he was going to be a father. She certainly hoped he was excited, because Sarah herself was terrified.