My Husband’s Heir Cost Him His Own Daughter Chapter 03

My Husband’s Heir Cost Him His Own Daughter Chapter 03

After I said it, Carter didn’t seem to hear me.

He didn’t come after me.

He was too busy helping Savannah, flanked by the elders and fussing over that damned cradle as if they were managing a national crisis. When he finally brushed past me, he didn’t even slow down. His shoulder slammed into mine.

I was eight months pregnant, my body already heavy and off-balance.

The impact sent me stumbling back. My foot slipped on the slick marble, and I went down hard.

A sharp, searing pain shot through my abdomen.

My vision went black. I tried to push myself up, but my arms gave out.

Everyone in the room saw it happen.

Not a single person moved to help me.

They stood a few feet away, watching me, their whispers like the rustle of dry leaves.

“A woman from the North. She just doesn’t understand the way things are done here.”

“Making a scene over a cradle. She’s not fit to be the mistress of this family.”

“Carter should have realized it sooner. A woman like that isn’t worth the trouble.”

Soon, I was the only one left in the study.

They escorted Savannah and the cradle out as if they were the day’s true casualties.

The pain in my abdomen came in waves, each one worse than the last.

I had to ask the housekeeper to take me to the family doctor.

After the examination, the doctor’s brow was furrowed.

“Mrs. Beauchamp, you’re eight months along. How did you fall like this? This is incredibly dangerous.”

I stared at the ceiling, saying nothing.

I hadn’t fallen.

Carter had knocked me down.

“Where is Mr. Beauchamp?” Dr. Hanks asked gently as he wiped the gel from my stomach. “He didn’t come with you? Should I give him a call?”

I didn’t stop him.

The doctor dialed quickly.

“Hello, Mr. Beauchamp. Mrs. Beauchamp is here at the clinic. She took a fall earlier—”

Carter’s voice, impatient and cold, cut through the phone.

“Tell her to stop making a scene, Dr. Hanks. I’m dealing with a real family emergency right now.”

After a beat, he added, his tone a clear warning, “And you can tell her that if this little performance interferes with next week’s polo match, she’ll have to live with the consequences.”

The line went dead.

Dr. Hanks stood there, phone in hand, utterly stunned.

I didn’t bother to explain. I just slowly sat up.

“Dr. Hanks,” I asked calmly, “if I wanted to terminate the pregnancy now…”

“Mrs. Beauchamp!” The doctor’s voice shot up. “I don’t know what’s happened between you and your husband, but the baby is eight months old. An induction now would not only be dangerous for you, it would be ending the life of a child who is almost full-term.”

I nodded, forcing a smile that felt hideous on my face.

“I understand. Thank you, Doctor.”

The doctor was right.

The child was innocent.

This child was mine.

And from this day forward, she would have nothing to do with Carter Beauchamp.

I was going to divorce him.

And I was going to raise her myself.