“Heather stands to inherit, of course,” Robert announced, shattering her last hope.
“Oh…..God…..no,” she whispered hollowly.
Robert chuckled as he slowly walked to the door. “Yes, I’m sure that you’re quite upset about that. No doubt that Mary would have given you whatever you wanted, but Heather…….,” he said meaningfully as he paused before continuing, “I doubt that Heather would share so much as a shilling with you.”
Her stomach cramped down violently with that last announcement. All of her and Mary’s plans for the future, gone. There would be no schools, no donations to the poor….nothing. She’d lost it all in one night. So many lives that were never going to have a chance, because of her.
She’d ruined everything because she’d fallen in love with the wrong man, she thought numbly as she struggled to stand up on trembling legs as her head spun, making her increasingly dizzy.
Fresh air, she needed fresh air, she decided as she somehow managed to stand up.
“Elizabeth?” Robert said, sounding uncertain as she struggled to step out of the tub.
“J-just leave me alone, Robert. You’ve delivered your blow so just go,” she said just before her legs gave out and she fell forward.
* * *
“Elizabeth?” Robert said anxiously as he cradled his unwanted wife in his arms.
She’d gone deathly pale on him. Her cold body trembled in his arms even as she tried to push him away.
“Leave me alone,” she mumbled, pushing weakly against him to gain her freedom, but he simply ignored her attempts as he carried her to the bed and laid her down.
She was just playing a game, he tried to tell himself as he pulled his arms away so that he could stand up. She was simply upset that she’d lost a fortune, he told himself, doing his damndest to build up his anger at her once again. She was just trying to manipulate him so that he would….so that he would….
“Oh, God,” he choked out as he slowly stood up, his eyes locked on the blood that stained her pale thighs.
“I-I don’t feel very good,” Elizabeth mumbled, whimpering as she turned onto her side and curled into herself.
He swallowed his fears for his unborn child and wife as he took a step back, stumbling on unsteady legs. He blindly reached out and grabbed the silk rope hanging by her bed and pulled on it, again and again until he was sure that there was a small army of servants racing to their room.
Once that was done, he dropped down onto his knees next to the bed and covered Elizabeth’s cold hands where they rested over her womb with his own. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze as she quietly sobbed, no doubt realizing that she’d just lost their child.
* * *
“I’m going to kill him!” Lord Norwood shouted as he was once again dragged back by the servants that were desperate to save their employer from murder charges.
Robert barely heard his father-in-law or cared for that matter. His focus was on the door in front of him as he waited for it to open and the surgeon to tell him that his wife would be okay.
He wasn’t sure how long ago the surgeon had demanded his removal from the room. The only reason that he’d agreed was so that Elizabeth would be granted some privacy, but he’d also thought that her mother would have dragged her ass out of bed and comforted her daughter. When it became obvious that Lady Norwood had no plans to comfort Elizabeth, Robert had asked for his mother to help.
His mother hadn’t hesitated in offering her daughter-in-law some comfort. As upset as his mother was, and he had no doubt that she was distraught over their situation, she’d hurried from her room and straight into Elizabeth’s room without sparing him a glance. She truly loved Elizabeth and he thanked God for that.
He couldn’t stomach the idea of Elizabeth being alone right now. As furious as he was over the fact that she’d lied, he realized something important. He truly did care for her, more than he ever thought possible. He didn’t want to lose her, not yet, not before he could tell her how sorry he was for causing her to lose their child.
As much as he’d once hated her, he’d had no right to torment her the way he had. She’d been carrying his child and he should have given that some consideration instead of acting like a child and giving into his anger. He’d never regretted his temper more and, as God was his witness, he would never treat her that way ever again.
All he needed was a second chance to make her happy, to take care of her and earn her forgiveness. He’d move heaven and hell for another chance with her. Just the thought of never seeing her again had him struggling to take his next breath. He couldn’t live without her, didn’t want to because-
Because he loved her.
He was madly in love with his wife and he’d allowed his rage to eat at him. How many times had his father or brother taken him aside and lectured him over his temper? How many fights had he started simply because he couldn’t control his temper? There’d been too many to count and now his child and wife were paying the price.
“I will kill you for this, you bastard!” Lord Norwood shouted as he was finally dragged from the hallway.
“Robert,” his father said softly as he stopped by his side, looking like he’d aged a decade since this morning, “I need to know what happened.”
Grinding his jaw, Robert shook his head as he looked at his father. “It’s my fault,” he managed to choke out.
“What happened?” his father demanded tightly.
“I lost my temper and made her lose the baby,” his said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he allowed himself to mourn the loss of his child, a child that he would never see.
“Did…..did you strike her?” his father asked quietly.
“I would never hurt her,” he bit out between clenched teeth.
“Then how did-” his father started to ask, appearing both tired and confused.
“I said things that I shouldn’t have said. I was angry with her and I…..I let my temper get the better of me,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face, wishing that he could do this day over again.
If he could do this day over again, he would do it right. He’d kiss her and tell her how much he loved her before he dropped down on one knee and begged her to marry him. If she said no, then he would have courted her and proved to her how much he cared for her. He should have-
“You should have never married her,” his father said, sounding disappointed and shaking his head in disgust as he walked away.
He didn’t argue with his father, but simply let the man walk away, because his father was right. He should have never married her, but he had and now he was going to be the husband that she needed him to be, he decided as he pushed away from the wall and walked towards the bedroom door.
When a footman tried to step in his way and stop him, Robert simply punched the man in the stomach, dropping him to the floor and stepped over him. He opened the door and quickly shut it behind him.
“Robert? What are you doing in here?” his mother demanded when she spotted him. “You don’t belong in here.”
“I belong with my wife,” he said, his eyes landing on Elizabeth’s sleeping form and remaining there as he walked to her.
She looked so peaceful, he thought as he leaned over her so that he could gently push a strand of hair out of her face. “How is my wife?” he asked the surgeon, never taking his eyes away from Elizabeth.
“Perhaps we could speak in the hallway?” the surgeon suggested, no doubt uncomfortable with his presence since being in the sickroom with your wife was simply not done.
“We’ll talk here,” Robert murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his wife’s cool forehead, ignoring his mother’s startled gasp.
After pressing a second kiss to her forehead, simply because he was relieved that she was alive, he carefully sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. He looked up at the stunned surgeon and gestured for him to begin.
“Well,” the surgeon said, clearing his throat and shifting uncomfortably, no
doubt well acquainted with Robert’s reputation, “as I’m sure you know, your wife lost the child.”
“And how is my wife?” he asked, praying that she was going to be okay after this.
“She is very upset, Mr. Bradford, but with rest, food and time, I believe that she will make a full recovery and should be able to have more children.”
Robert nodded as he sighed with relief. She would be okay. That’s all that mattered to him. Well, there was one more thing that he had to know.
“Do you know what caused her to lose the baby?” he asked, needing his fault in the matter confirmed.
“I believe dehydration and the fact that she couldn’t keep anything down was the cause of this,” the surgeon said on a weary sigh as he picked up his bag. “From what I understand, she thought that stress was the cause of everything, and once she realized that she was with child, she became overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do, Mr. Bradford,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “The next time, I don’t believe that she’ll hesitate in asking for help. Good day, sir.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, returning his attention back to his sleeping wife.
He didn’t know what to make of what the surgeon said, but he knew one thing, he was going to take better care of his wife from this moment on.
Chapter 23
Two weeks later…..
“Please, stop.”
“But, you need to eat,” Robert stubbornly explained as he scooped up another spoonful of that dreadful broth that he’d practically been pouring down her throat since she woke up two weeks ago. “The surgeon was very adamant about this in fact.”
“Yes, but can’t I-” Her words were cut off when he took advantage and shoved the spoon in her mouth.
“You need to build up your strength,” he said with a firm nod as he placed the vile broth concoction back on the table and picked up the cup of equally vile tea and tried to make her drink it.
“No,” she said, turning her head away.
“Elizabeth,” he said in clear exasperation, “this will help you. Now drink.”
“No!” she stubbornly said, turning her face into the pillow and pressing her lips together in silent protest.
He sighed heavily as he attempted to cup her chin gently between his fingers and force her to turn towards him so that he could pour that awful tea down her throat again, but after two weeks straight of drinking that putrid concoction, she was done.
“Elizabeth,” he said in exasperation, “you have to drink this.”
“No,” she bit out quickly before she closed her lips up tightly once again.
“It will make you stronger,” he patiently explained as he made another attempt.
“No, it will make me gag!” she managed to get out before he could bring the cup to her lips.
“Drink it quickly and you won’t taste a thing,” he lied, again, as he brought the cup to her lips, but she wasn’t having it. She pressed a hand over her mouth, creating a protective barrier against the disgusting liquid.
His eyes narrowed on the action as he placed the cup down on the table. “You’re only making this harder on yourself,” he said, reaching over and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
With narrowed eyes, she quickly replaced it with her other hand. When he pulled the hand away, she did it again until he was forced to grab both her hands, with a frustrated growl, and pinned them against the mattress. His smile was smug until he realized that with both of his hands pinning hers, he couldn’t pick up the cup and force her to drink.
“You’re being stubborn,” he accused with a sullen glare.
“So are you!” she snapped back.
“You need it!”
“No, I don’t!” she shot back, because she really didn’t need it. It was turning her stomach and no matter how much he was able to get down her throat, it did nothing to ease her hunger. She was in fact, starving.
It actually surprised her that she could think about food after….
After losing the baby.
When she realized that she’d lost their child, she wanted nothing more than to follow after it. The pain of losing a child was something that she never wanted to experience again. At the time she’d hated the doctor for it, but she was glad that he’d given her medicine to make her sleep. It had given her a short break from the heartache.
Unfortunately as soon as she had opened her eyes and memories from the night before came back, she had broken down and started crying uncontrollably. It had frightened the poor maid that had been stationed in her room to oversee her recovery. Her loud sobs had also startled Robert, who’d apparently passed out in a chair next to the bed, awake.
As soon as he realized that she was awake, he was on the bed and pulling her into his arms instead of yelling at her as she’d expected. He’d rubbed her back, kissed her forehead and said soothing words to her as she’d mourned the loss of their baby. When Robert realized that the maid tasked with helping her recover was only standing there, gawking at them, he’d sent her fleeing from the room.
From that point on, he refused to allow anyone else to care for her. He turned away every maid that tried. The only thing that he allowed them to do was to bring up the awful tea and broth that he force-fed her or hot water so that she could soak in the tub. When he wasn’t trying to poison her, he was reading to her, holding her, sitting by her side while she slept, or holding her tightly when she couldn’t bear the loss of their child anymore and broke down into sobs.
Neither one of them had mentioned the baby, their wedding, the argument they had that night or a hundred other things that they should probably discuss. Instead, he was simply there for her and it made her love him even more.
She’d never expected this level of consideration from her husband. When she’d been a child, she’d fantasized about her own Prince Charming, but even that fantasy hadn’t been as perfect as Robert had been to her over the last two weeks. Men, husbands, didn’t do things like this for their wives. Her father certainly never did this for her mother and Anthony, who she knew loved and adored her sister, never did this sort of thing for Mary. He would visit with her and hold her in his arms when she needed comfort, but Anthony had never devoted every single minute of the day to Mary’s care and wellbeing. It made her feel cherished and helped her through the most painful loss of her life.
“Half a cup, that’s all you have to drink,” he said soothingly as he released her hands and picked up the cup. “Come on, just a few sips.”
She let out an indelicate snort at that as she shook her head. “Not happening, Robert.”
“Elizabeth, it’s good for you,” he said, giving her a smile that did funny things to her stomach.
“Then you drink it,” she said stubbornly, refusing to be swayed by a charming smile.
With a roll of his eyes and a muttered comment about her being a big baby, he brought the cup to his lips and took a long sip that he quickly spit back into the cup.
“What the hell is in that?” he demanded in outrage as he placed the offending cup on the table. He wiped frantically at his mouth to erase the taste and when that didn’t help, he grabbed the vase by her bed, yanked the flowers out of it and tipped it back, drinking every last drop. When he placed the empty vase by the bed, he was still cringing at the bitter aftertaste left in his mouth.
“Good,” she said with a nod as she threw the covers off and shifted her legs to the edge of the bed. “Now maybe I can get some real food.”
“The doctor said that you had to stay in bed for at least another week,” Robert pointed out as he moved to help her back in bed.
“Was it the same doctor that said I had to drink the tea?” she asked, relieved when he stepped back with a sigh and held out his hand to help her to her feet.
“It’s well past midnight. I don’t think there will be anyone up to make you something to eat,” he pointed out once she was on her feet.
“I’m sure that I’ll manage,” she said, not bothering to remind
him that she knew how to cook since most men of his standing would be outraged to have their wives do something that they believed was a servant’s job.
“I could always run down to the kitchens and look for something,” he suggested, sounding hopeful.
“You’d eat it all before you even left the kitchen,” she pointed out with a smile.
He considered that for a moment before he shrugged with a self-deprecating smile. “You’re probably right.”
“One day you’ll have to explain how you manage to eat so much,” she said, heading to the door, but she didn’t make it far before she found herself swept off her feet and into his arms.
“I actually have a theory about that,” he said with a smile as he walked to the door.
“Really? What is it?” she asked, too curious to pretend otherwise.
His appetite was rather frightening. She’d never seen someone eat so much food in one sitting. There were actually several maids that refused to wait on him, terrified that he’d accidentally devour their hands if they didn’t release the platters of food fast enough.
“You,” he simply said as he waited for her to reach over and open the door to her bedchamber.
“Me?”
“Mmmhmm, you,” he said with a teasing smile as he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and carried her out into the hallway that was dimly lit by several candles slowly burning away the late night hours.
“How exactly am I responsible for your terrifying appetite?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“If I recall correctly,” he said, shifting her slightly in his arms so that he could safely navigate the poorly lit staircase with her in his arms, “you cursed me and all my future heirs.”
She gasped. “I did no such thing!” she said, even though it did kind of sound like something that she would do.
“You certainly did, minx,” Robert said, chuckling as he carried her down the back hallway, towards the kitchen.
Truce: The Historic Neighbor from Hell anfh-4 Page 16
