“Anne…” Cornelius’s voice was a whisper in her ear, as he wrapped his arms around her, their meetings carefully planned. Either early or late, when most people still slept, because all it took was one mistake, and Anne didn’t want anyone to know – especially not Titus. His lips pressed to her cheek. If everything worked out the way she planned they wouldn’t still be sneaking around so close to the ritual, literal days away from his death, but becoming pregnant simply hadn’t happened. Anne knew it could take time, but not as long as it had. Cornelius’ lips moved from her cheek to her neck. Anne’s silence wasn’t unusual,…