She felt so frustrated she just wanted to scream- or cry- or both. "You sound grateful," she said spitefully. "You can't keep me locked up in Verona, Montague! I'm pregnant, not your prisoner!" she was trying to yell at him but the hand on her belly had calmed her against her will. She felt one of the babies kicking as though it knew that the hand was there. She groaned quietly. Better his hand than her ribs she supposed.
She sighed and leaned against him as much as she could. "I love you too, you know that I do Monty- but I feel trapped here. I'm going to die of boredom if nothing else. And Marlowe needs to see other people. Don't get me wrong, his italian is coming along beautifully, but don't you think he needs to see British children too?"