Loriane froze, looking from Tandor to the girl.
Impossible. If Tandor had the necessary equipment, all her ten children would have been his. Or had he perhaps found a way. . . ? But then, why this girl? She’d been available for him all these years.
The girl gave her a desperate look. “Mistress Loriane, can I please, please use your outroom?”
Loriane played with the notion to refuse, but tucked it away just as quickly. She was a midwife first, always. “Sure, it’s at the back over there.”
The girl stumbled past the stove to the door Loriane had indicated, clutching her belly, leaving Tandor and Loriane facing each other in an uneasy silence. The fire bricks sputtered and hissed in the stove.
“Don’t tell me that you took her all the way from Bordertown in that condition,” Loriane said.
