her face.

“What?”

“You need to talk to Mrs. Turner about this. She was trained as a midwife before her first marriage, and she delivered all of my children. She's also someone who knows what it is to suffer from difficult relationships. Will you talk to her?”

Oh good, more help. “Yes, I would like that. I think it would be very reassuring.”

“Well then let's plan on it. She has young children, so most likely you will need to go to her.”

“That's not a problem,” Katerina assured her.

“Good. Let's make a plan to visit her this week.”

“Yes, let's do it.”

A few days later, Katerina found herself seated in a comfortable parlor on a chocolate-colored sofa with a cup of tea and a sugar biscuit, a little girl playing

near her feet. It amazed her that even though the two women were the same age,

Julia's sons were both adults; Christopher twenty-four years old, his younger

brother Devin still at university, but close to completing his course of legal studies. Elizabeth Turner was also the mother of an adult child; however, her second marriage had begun when she was over thirty, and in addition to Colin,

she had three much younger children.

She was such a relaxed and comfortable matron that Katerina instantly felt better in her company. She always had, ever since the colonel's wife and Katerina's mother-in-law had taken the shy musician under their collective wings

over a year before.

“Now that you're settled with tea and sweets, Julia said you wanted to talk to

me. What is it, dear?” Mrs. Turner asked.

Katerina swallowed a mouthful of biscuit, which suddenly felt dry in her

throat. “Well, I'm… enceinte. I didn't expect this so soon and I'm terribly nervous about it.”

“That's a perfectly normal reaction,” Mrs. Turner replied.

“Do you know about my… history?” Katerina asked, for once glad the secret

wasn't such a secret. She had no desire to explain.

“I do. Is that part of why you feel nervous?” the midwife asked.

“Yes. I would hate to perpetuate the legacy of violence.”

Mrs. Turner met her eyes and nodded. “It's a legitimate concern. One key to

successful parenting is to know yourself. You've received abuse, and you have those seeds inside you. Honestly, dear, everyone does. Anyone can snap at a child in frustration. That's why you must be honest with yourself about getting help when you need it. Do not allow yourself to become excessively

aggravated.”

“My father required no frustration to become violent,” Katerina said darkly.

“I'm sorry, dear. Some people are just evil,” Mrs. Turner replied.

“How do I know I'm not? I'm his daughter.” Katerina swallowed. I don't think I'm evil… but Father doesn't think he is either. What does evil feel like?

“Have you harmed others?” Mrs. Turner asked, cutting off Katerina's

spiraling thoughts.

She shook her head. “No. I've had no opportunity, but I didn't hesitate to take

advantage of Christopher's offer, even though I knew I wouldn't be good for

him.”

“Katerina, stop,” Julia said gently. “You were in desperate need of help, and I

disagree with the idea you've been bad to him. Don't you love him?”

“Yes,” Katerina replied firmly. But that doesn't mean I'm good for him.

“And he loves you. He's not stupid. He wouldn't love you if you were a violent, evil monster.”

Put that way, Julia's point made perfect sense. Katerina smiled a little.

“Perhaps not.”

Mrs. Turner took over the conversation again. “Rest assured, despite your

difficult circumstances, you are capable of being a good mother if you decide you want to be. How far along are you?”

“The doctor on the ship estimated about three months. I think closer to four

now.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, turning professional.

“Pardon?” Katerina replied, not exactly sure what she was asking.

“Nausea? Fatigue? Soreness?”

Oh, that. “The nausea has finally passed, thank the Lord. Fatigue, definitely.

It's hard to get up in the morning. I'm only sore in… two places.”