“Let me go!” she demanded. In anger, she spun around with the intent of slapping his face, but the world around her began to spin. Everything shifted in her vision, and her knees buckled from weakness. As she stumbled backwards into a fall, Philippe caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.
“Dear Lord, Suzette, are you all right?” He held her strongly, yet tenderly.
“I’m dizzy,” she gasped, surprised.
Philippe lifted her up in his arms and carried her back to the bench, slowly lowering her down upon the seat.
“Sit down for a moment. I insist,” he ordered, his voice filled with concern. He sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder for support. Suzette instinctively laid her head against his chest, waiting for the twirling sensation to leave.
He touched the side of her face, stroking her tenderly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered apologetically. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you. Forgive me. I only wanted you to know the truth.”
“Forgive me,” Suzette responded with shallow breathing. “I haven’t been well lately. I overreacted.”
“What do you mean, you haven’t been well, Suzette? Have you seen a physician?”
She shook her head no, suppressing the suspicion she now held for weeks. Her menses were late, and she feared pregnancy.
“I will be all right, I promise.” Suzette refused to mention the possibility. Within a few minutes, her head cleared, and the world around her stabilized. “I’m feeling better now. I really should go home.”
“Well, I insist on walking you to the carriage.”
Suzette didn’t argue. He stood up and held out his hand for her to take. Finally, looking up into his concerned and loving face, she felt peace in the reflection of his warm brown eyes. He tenderly grasped her hand, and she clutched his tightly as they walked to the waiting carriage. As she felt his strength, a part of her longed to tell him what she feared but could not. It would be devastating to reveal to Philippe that she could possibly be pregnant with Robert’s child. No, it had to be kept a secret until she was sure of it.
* * *
A week later, Suzette was convinced she carried a child in her womb. The nausea was unbearable and the fatigue difficult to manage. In addition, her emotions ran wild, from the fear and apprehension of being pregnant to overwhelming joy at the possibility. At times, she would place her hand upon her stomach and laugh at what awaited her, and then at other times she felt tearful and terribly alone. There had been no word from Robert, nor did Philippe contact her after their last walk in the park.
Madame LeBlanc quickly noticed Suzette’s physical distress and appearance, but said nothing until one particular morning of upheaval when she vomited uncontrollably over the side of her bed. After hearing her moans, her servant knocked on the door only to be greeted by Suzette’s denial.
“I’m fine. Go away and leave me alone!”
“Ridiculous,” she blurted out, as she flung open the door and went to her side with a basin in hand. She held Suzette until she heaved again and emptied the contents of her stomach. After she finished, she rose and grabbed a towel from the washroom, moistened it, and brought it back to her mistress, wiping away the residue from her lips.
“How far?” she asked, dabbing her mouth.
“What?”
“How far along are you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Suzette breathed in anger, denying the accusations that she knew to be true.
“You’re pregnant. I can tell a pregnant woman when I see one, Mademoiselle.” Madame LeBlanc placed both hands on her hips and defiantly glared at Suzette.
Suzette relented. “About six weeks, I think.” Tears streamed down her face. Up until this time, she had kept a wary distance from Madame LeBlanc, but now she felt an overwhelming need for a woman’s help and guidance.
“What happens to women like me when they become pregnant?” Her voice shook, afraid of the answer.
“We can talk about that later,” Madame LeBlanc said with a tone of sympathy in her voice. “Go wash, put on a robe, and I’ll make some peppermint tea to settle your stomach.”
Suzette wandered off to the bath chamber. She stood in front of the mirror looking pale and sickly. After a few splashes of cold water on her face from the basin, she patted herself dry with a towel, and then ran a brush through her tangled hair. A quick swish of water in her mouth helped rid the putrid taste of vomit.
Wrapped in a warm bathrobe, she climbed downstairs. Upon entering, she sat down at a small table in the kitchen. Madame LeBlanc handed her the steaming cup of brewed tea. The smell of peppermint brought a fresh wave of nausea, but Suzette knew its contents would ease her ills once she drank it.
“I don’t know what to do.” The words fell from Suzette’s lips.
“You will have to tell Lord Holland, of course,” Madame LeBlanc counseled. “How he will handle the news is another matter.”
She lifted her eyes toward her maid. Suzette felt very ignorant. “What do men do when their mistresses become pregnant?”
“Well, as a rule, if we were on French soil, most courtesans who serve aristocratic men would not keep the child. When the baby is born, it would be given up for adoption or provided for by the benefactor to grow up in someone else’s care. Men in high positions cannot have illegitimate children claiming title to their money or name, so as a rule, they are spirited away.”
Suzette gasped. “You cannot be serious!”
“Oh, quite.” She hesitated to mention the other alternative. “He might refer you to an unscrupulous physician, who would attempt to abort the child. I would not recommend such a course of action, though, because your life could be in danger from the procedure.”
“I would never do such a thing!” Suzette protested vehemently.
“Of course, you could keep your child by relinquishing your position as mistress with Lord Holland and raise the baby yourself. I dare say there will be no means for you to take care of it, though, will there? Not unless he cares for the bastard child by giving you money.”
Suzette put down the teacup as tears spilled down her cheeks. The thought of giving away the child that she and Robert created together was out of the question. Surely, he wouldn’t insist on such an arrangement or dare suggest the other alternative. He can’t possibly be so cruel, she thought to herself.
“I see the distress upon your face, Mademoiselle, but it is the way of things.” Madame LeBlanc stood silently for a few moments, pondering Suzette. “When is Lord Holland due back?” she asked inquisitively. “He’ll need to be told immediately upon his return.”
“Soon, I think.” Suzette paused before continuing, “He’s probably on his honeymoon.” The confession that he had recently married was difficult for Suzette to admit, even now.
Madame LeBlanc showed no surprise over the announcement of Lord Holland’s marriage. “Well, you’ll need to tell him. Before you know it, your belly will start looking like a melon, and there’ll be no hiding it, now will there?”
Suzette knew she was right. There would be no hiding it from anyone, including Philippe. What would he think? Certainly, he would abandon any thought of reconciliation now that she carried Robert’s child. They had tried to be careful, and Robert wore some type of new sheath that was supposed to protect her from pregnancy.
After finishing her tea, Suzette retreated to her room to ponder her quandary. She was trapped, and it was her own fault. Afraid neither would want her, she retreated into her fears of homelessness once again. She could never give up her child. She buried her head in her pillow and sobbed until she fell asleep from exhaustion.
* * *
Another week passed, and Suzette was now used to the morning nausea and prepared with a bucket by her bedside to catch its morning contents.
Notes and invitations from Philippe arrived almost daily, but Suzette turned each one down, sending excuse after excuse. She hoped her continual refusal would discourage him from his
relentless pursuit. It was the right thing to do. She knew if he found out about her pregnancy, he would abandon her immediately, which would break her heart. She could never tell him about the child or bear to see the horror on his face after hearing the news.
Her focus turned to Robert. She wished things had been different. Surely, had he not married Lady Spencer, he would have married her instead upon hearing news of her pregnancy, but now it was too late. She trusted his kind heart to do the right thing, and Suzette convinced herself that he would not make her give up the baby but would allow her to raise their child in secret with his provision. She told Madame LeBlanc of her plan, but she was quick to dash her hopes to pieces.
“The man is going to be Duke! He has a reputation to protect, and he will not acknowledge a bastard child in his lineage.”
Suzette didn’t want to believe her tirade.
* * *
Robert returned to London a week later with his new wife in tow. Their lengthy honeymoon had ended. He soon learned, however, that Lady Spencer preferred to cling to him like a leech. At the first thought of separation, she begged him to bring her to London. He insisted he needed to take care of business, but it made no difference. Unable to discard her pleading tears, he relented. After a week’s time, he finally found a moment to slip away on his own to visit Suzette.
His arrival to her small cottage came unannounced, and Madame LeBlanc gasped in surprise when he appeared at the door.
“Lord Holland, you’ve returned!” Her face flushed at the thought of her mistress, who lay upstairs in her bed sick and pale.
Robert became immediately irritated. “Do you intend on leaving me on the doorstep?”
“No. Forgive me, Monsieur.” She stepped out of the way and took his hat and cane. With a quick curtsy, she went to fetch Suzette. “I’ll let the Mademoiselle know you’ve arrived.”
Robert sensed something was wrong. He watched her run upstairs, and then he wandered into the parlor surprised to see it unkempt. Reading material lay strewn about, an empty teapot and teacup sat upon a table, and partially eaten biscuits on a plate. Perturbed at the maid’s lack of housekeeping skills, he flopped on the settee, tossed a pillow out of the way, and impatiently waited.
Madame LeBlanc fled up the stairs and knocked in panic upon Suzette’s bedroom door. After bidding her entrance, she ran to Suzette’s bedside.
“You must get up now, Mademoiselle. Lord Holland is waiting for you in the parlor downstairs.”
Suzette shot up and flung her legs around the edge of the bed. The room spun, and she looked up at Madame LeBlanc pleading for help.
“My God! Why didn’t he tell me beforehand so I could have prepared?”
She ran over to the vanity, sat down, and pulled a brush through her tangled hair. “Find me another dress! I look a fright.”
Madame LeBlanc filtered through the wardrobe, begging for direction. “Which one?”
“The pink satin. Perhaps it will give me some color. Hurry!”
She took the dress off the hanger and carefully laid it on the edge of the bed. Suzette struggled with her hair, and Madame LeBlanc walked over and grabbed the brush from her hand.
“Here, let me do that,” she insisted. Her skillful hand pulled through the last tangle, and then in one sweep, she wrapped Suzette’s hair into a neat bun and pinned it upon her head. “Now, powder your nose, and for heaven’s sake, dab your cheeks with rouge. You look like a ghost.”
Suzette, who had slept in her corset and bloomers, easily slipped into the dress. Madame LeBlanc buttoned the back and then turned her around, making a quick inspection.
“Find a piece of jewelry, and I’ll find your shoes.”
Finally, the frantic women had finished their task, and Madame LeBlanc looked at her approvingly. “I wonder how long he’ll let you leave the dress on,” she said sarcastically.
Angry at the remark, Suzette snapped back. “Keep your mouth shut, do you hear me?”
Nothing further was spoken between the two, and Suzette nervously descended the stairs, pinching her cheeks once more to add a bit of color to her ashen pallor.
Robert stood to his feet as she entered the room, struck by the change in her appearance. Her face appeared drawn, and he could tell she had squeezed her cheeks by the red marks on her face.
“Darling,” he said, walking toward her and gathering her into his arms. “You don’t look well. Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course, Robert,” she answered, her voice laced with feigned sincerity. “Silly me. I was taking a nap, and you woke me up. That’s why I look so frightful, I’m afraid.”
Robert released his embrace and stepped back, examining her again. “Taking a nap?”
Suzette laughed nervously. “Yes, I’m afraid I stayed up way too long last evening.”
Robert hesitated but then lowered his head until his lips met hers. He kissed her deeply, and a rush of relief flooded his soul. He had missed the taste of Suzette’s warm mouth. In spite of his newfound status of being a married man, he discovered his new bride cold and unyielding in bed, like most English women. The thought of Suzette’s lovemaking aroused his senses. As his kisses became more intense, he noted her response wasn’t the same, so he released her lips and demanded an answer.
“Something is wrong. I can sense it.”
“Nothing is wrong, Robert,” she insisted. “I’m just surprised that you’re here now. You’ve been away for so long.” Suzette smiled and then broke out in a nervous laughter, expressing her own loneliness.
“I’ve missed you terribly,” she confessed, nuzzling her head on his chest. “Oh, Robert, don’t be gone so long next time, please.” She claimed his lips with intensity to show her deep affection.
Robert waited no longer. He scooped her up in his arms and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. As they passed Madame LeBlanc on the way up, Suzette glanced at her and saw her housekeeper mouth the words, “I told you so.”
Suzette glared at her in return and then buried her head in the corner of her lover’s shoulder, giggling the entire way up the staircase. Once behind closed doors, they rekindled the weeks of separation with passionate lovemaking.
* * *
Robert left Suzette asleep in her bed. The hours had quickly passed, and he needed to return to his waiting wife. He descended the staircase and found Madame LeBlanc in the parlor straightening up the room. He stood in the doorway and watched her for a minute, then cleared his throat to gain her attention. Something was amiss, and he wanted answers.
“What’s going on here?”
Madame LeBlanc swung around at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, Monsieur, you startled me,” she exclaimed, out of breath. She brought her hand to her chest in fright and then answered his inquiry. “Nothing is going on. I’m merely cleaning, as you can see.”
Robert stepped inside the parlor, unwilling to take her word. “There’s something going on in this household. I can tell by Suzette’s demeanor and your own. You are both hiding something.” A few steps closer brought him face to face with the maid, and he raised his voice to make at point.
“I want to know now, or else you can pack your bags and I’ll find another woman from France to wait upon my mistress.”
He made his threat palatable, and Madame LeBlanc began to shake. The teacup rattled in the saucer she held in her hand, and she took a step back from the English lord’s threatening demeanor.
“You’ve married,” she blurted out without further thought. “Your mistress found out about your wife!”
Robert froze. The blood drained from his face, and Madame LeBlanc couldn’t help but chuckle aloud. She wanted to tell him the other news but was afraid Suzette would kill her for sure.
“Now you look as pale as her, Monsieur. You wished to know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders in relief. She picked up teapot and remaining dishes and then exited the room for the kitchen without saying another word.
Robert left the parlor, picked up his
hat and cane, and let himself out of the cottage, slamming the door behind him with a bang. As he strode out the door to his waiting carriage, he climbed inside and gave orders to return to his wife. The lit candle had just been extinguished at one end, and he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to handle the matter with Suzette.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Suzette’s confusion increased as the week passed with no further word from Robert. Their time together had been a physical reunion, but the many questions that nagged Suzette remained unanswered about his marriage.
He offered her no explanation about his absence; it was clear to her now that he intended to keep her in the dark as long as possible. No doubt, he was concerned about her reaction and had every right to be.
As the days slipped by, his avoidance was obvious. The growth of their child in her womb intensified her panic until it became unbearable. Finally, at the end of the week, a note arrived from Robert, which Suzette immediately tore open and read.
Dear Suzette,
I have been called back to my father’s estate on business. I am aware that you have discovered my marriage to Lady Jacquelyn Spencer. You have every right to be upset over my deception. We will speak about the matter upon my return.
I am forever yours,
Robert Holland
Suzette dropped the letter to the floor as hot tears streamed down her face. Madame LeBlanc stood in the doorway, watching her reaction, and Suzette instinctively knew she was the traitor. In a rage, Suzette raced toward her, and with an open hand violently slapped her across the face.
“You bitch! You told him that I found out about the marriage, didn’t you?” As she tried to slap her again, Madame LeBlanc grabbed her wrist to prevent any further hits upon her already reddened cheek.
“He threatened to fire me if I didn’t tell him what was going on! You should be thankful I didn’t tell him about the bastard baby in your womb, Mademoiselle.”
The Price of Innocence (The Legacy Series) Page 24
