“Roderick told me the whole situation last night.” She poured a small cup of broth with practiced grace.

“You mustn’t take the birth-certificate business to heart, dear.

The Pembroke name simply needs a male heir at the head of the foundation, and truly, we only wanted to spare you any stress in your third trimester.”

“I understand your priorities completely,” I said, and sipped the broth.

It tasted of salt and dust.

“I knew you’d be sensible.” She patted my arm.

“And society is so progressive now — carrying the Ashworth name won’t be the least bit of a problem for her.”