by Matilda Hart
She laughed, a merry sound, and accepted the wine, sipping it and wrinkling her nose at the taste. “I would not care if I had to drink the wine from your hand, as long as I got to drink it with you,” she said. “I am glad you have these cups, though, else we would lose some of this delicious liquid between your fingers.”
He forced himself to relax enough to eat and drink with her, telling her stories of his childhood, of his time abroad, of his love of horses -- he laughed when she told him how she thought he was an inexpert horseman the first time they met -- and then he sobered. She was packing away the picnic items left over from their meal, and he knew the time had come. He wasn’t sure of how to begin, so he began with the duel.
“There is someone to whom I owe my word,” he said, “because it was given in defense of her good name.” He cleared his throat, watching as she folded her hands in her lap and waited.
“Isabel and I have known each other since we were children. She is my age, and after her parents passed away, she became almost a recluse. Someone, an unscrupulous man, sought to sully her good name by attempting to seduce her, and when she refused him, he spread abroad a vicious rumor about her character. I called him out...she had no one else to defend her honor.”
Anna reached for his hand in a gesture of understanding, and he let her hold it a moment before removing it and continuing.
“I shot him, and the matter was settled, so far as he was concerned.”
“Did you kill him?” she asked, awestruck.
“No, he survived,” he said. “But the matter of Isabel’s good name remained. By my actions, I had declared myself her champion, and the expectation became that I would marry her. That is usually the only reason for a man to champion a woman’s cause in a duel that could end his life.”
He watched as comprehension slowly dawned in Anna’s eyes, and wondered again why he had had to meet this glorious, smart, brave, and beautiful woman when it was too late.
“So... are you betrothed to her?” she asked, her voice tight with what he suspected were tears she would not shed.
“Not yet, but it is expected that I will,” he replied.
“When is the happy occasion?” she wanted to know, the question made without intonation.
“I have not yet decided,” he said, “because neither she nor I is in a hurry to marry, though it is clear that for the sake of her reputation it must be done.”
Anna stood up, smoothing the skirt of her dress over her hips and walking away to the water. Daniel did not follow her. He knew she was formulating the words that would crush his dreams as surely as he had crushed hers. When she turned back to him, her eyes, once so alive with joy and laughter, were a dead, cold gray.
“So... what am I to be to you?”
Daniel could not answer. He could not say the word “mistress’. It clogged his throat, choking him with sorrow and despair and shame.
“It is clear that I am not to be your wife, sir,” she said, and Daniel winced. He was a ‘sir’ again. “And as I will never act as your mistress, today being the only exception, I think it best if we do not see each other again. As I have said before, you were right. I should set my sights lower. It must be in my stars to marry the son of a butcher.”
Without looking at him again, she picked up her basket and walked away. He watched her go. She had not raised her voice. She had no shed a single tear. And she had left his gift on the ground beside his bag. Hot tears stung his eyes, and he sniffed, willing them away. His heartbreak could be nothing to hers, and he was ashamed.
Chapter 5
It had been six weeks since Anna had last seen Daniel, six weeks in which she had grown increasingly silent, causing her parents both to wonder what ailed her. She did her chores, helped her mother with the seamstressing, cleaned the house, cooked, played auntie to her new niece, and did everything she could to forget the man who had deliberately broken her heart with his half-truths. She heard through the grapevine that the Duke’s son had left for London unexpectedly and would not return for the rest of the season. She told herself she did not care. He had nothing to be upset about. He would have someone to warm his bed at night, to bring him the aching pleasure that he had introduced her to and then had torn away from her so cruelly with his confession.
Fresh tears burned her eyes and she swallowed them. She refused to shed a single tear over him. She had not done so thus far, and she took a perverse pride in that fact. But her dark mood grew, and she knew she needed to grieve, or she would become impossible to live with. Add to that the fact that, in the last two weeks she had become increasingly ill in the morning, and she was very much afraid that she had contracted some deadly disease. She tried to think where she might have gotten it, but nothing sprang to mind. And this morning, the vomiting had been so severe that she had had to keep her bed. Her mother had threatened to call the doctor, but Anna had steadfastly assured her that it was just a stomach bug and that she would be right as rain in no time. She knew she had to do something about it, because she hated doctors, and always went to her sister for help when she was sick. She hoped Lavender would know what ailed her.
She waited until Sunday, dragging herself out of bed for the rest of the week so her mother would not call the doctor. Lavinia gave her a basket to carry that contained dinner for the three of them, milk for pudding for her grandchildren, and some some bread and cheese, ‘to tide them over’. The smell of the meat was making tying Anna’s stomach in knots, but she valiantly held on until she saw her sister’s house. She heaved a heavy sigh of relief, and went around to the kitchen entrance of her sister’s small dwelling.
“Lavvie,” she called out, “come and help me please.”
Her sister came out, holding the baby, but as soon as she saw Anna’s face, she deposited the infant in the bassinet on the floor by the fire and hurried to take the basket from her. Before she could say a word, Anna was out the door and throwing up into the vegetable garden. When there was nothing left to heave up, Anna stood slowly and walked over to the water barrel, pouring some from the ladle into her palm so she could swish out her mouth. Then she took a small sip and swallowed, and replaced the ladle. She sank onto the little bench by the barrel and hung her head.
“Anna, whatever’s the matter with you?” her sister inquired, coming out to touch her forehead, like she would her children when they were sick. “You don’t have a fever. What did you eat?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Anna replied. “I have been violently sick this past fortnight, and can find no cause for it,” she continued.
Lavender eyed her sister speculatively. “When did you last have your courses?” she asked.
Anna sat back, thinking. Not for a while,” she said at last, “but I just thought that it was because I have been so sick. It has happened like that before, when I have been ill.” She turned troubled eyes to her sister. “What do you think is wrong with me? I cannot be sick. Mama needs me to help her. The workload has increased. And you know how much I hate the doctor.”
Lavender took her hand. “Come indoors with me,” she said. “I think I know what ails you. But first you have to answer me some questions.”
Anna followed her sister willingly, and sipped the tea she brewed for her. “It will settle your stomach,” she told Anna. “I’ll give you some to take home with you.”
Settling herself in another chair, and bringing her baby to her breast, Lavender asked her one question.
“Have you been intimate with a man, Anna, in the last two months?”
The mug trembled in her hand as Anna’s thoughts went back to that one glorious morning by the river, when she and Daniel had made love. All the hurt, the anger, the love that she had not released came pouring out of her. She sat and cried and cried, and her sister rubbed her hand until she was calm enough to tell her the whole sordid tale.
“Do you mean to say that the father of your child is the Duke’s son?” Lavender blurted out, forgetting that she had not as yet told Anna
what was wrong with her.
“What?” Anna squeaked. “What did you say?”
Lavender sighed. “Anna, you aren’t sick. You’re pregnant! Six weeks along, by the sound of it. And if he is the only man that you have been intimate with, then the child is his.”
Anna dropped her face into her hands. “Oh heavens, what am I to do?” she asked. “I cannot tell my parents of this. Papa will demand satisfaction, and I cannot marry a man who is promised to another. Besides, he will not want to marry me once he hears that I am with child by him.”
“How do you know that?” Lavender demanded. “How do you know what he will do until you tell him?”
“He cannot be trusted or relied upon, Lavvie!” she declared. “He let me think we could have something together, and then he ripped it away from me with that one confession!”
“Did he seem to enjoy the intimacy?” Lavender asked, “or was he just doing it as he might have with any other woman?”
“I do not know!” Anna exclaimed. “I have no experience with men or with...intimacies such as that. It did not seem to be humdrum, especially when I touched him in certain ways.”
Her face reddened as she shared that intimate detail with her sister. They had never been the sort of siblings who shared secrets, so this was a first for them both.
“It sounds to me as though you were more to him than just a passing fancy. But there is really no way to know unless you tell him about his child. He has a right and a responsibility in the matter, Anna, and you cannot handle this alone.”
Anna finished the tea, and Lavender offered her next a dry crust of bread. “Eat it slowly,” she ordered her. “And until the nausea passes, this is all you must eat in the mornings. Wait for half an hour after you are up before making the tea. Have it first, and then the bread.”
Anna nodded, absorbing her sister’s directions. “What am I going to do? Once my belly starts to show, I will be unable to hide it from Mama!”
“There are ways to hide it, sister, but we will cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, we must consider how you will get word to his Lordship.”
“I have heard he is no longer at the residence, but has returned to London,” Anna said.
“We will find a way, I promise you,” Lavender said.
Then George returned home and they spent a pleasant afternoon together, with Anna able to eat a small portion of potatoes. When George remarked that she was not eating, she told him she had an upset stomach. It seemed to satisfy him, and the meal ended with no further comments on the subject. And then, as they were clearing the dinner things away, George said,
“I hear there is to be an engagement party at the manor house in two weeks. The Duke has asked my father to pray for the couple as the husband-to-be has recently purchased a commission to fight in the wars abroad. Before the engagement, of course, and so he must fulfill his contract.”
Anna’s heart leaped in her chest. Daniel was joining the army? Why? And was this something else that he had neglected to tell her. She refused to ask any questions, so Lavender did it for her.
“So his son is getting engaged, eh? I suppose it was inevitable.”
George looked at her with a puzzled frown. “What makes you think it is his son? He has two other children, both girls, and the older of the two is the one betrothed.”
Anna swallowed her sigh of relief. It should not matter to her that Daniel was still without a fiancée, and she was angry that it did. Lavender interrupted her troubled thoughts with another question.
“So the whole family is expected to come down again, eh?”
“One would imagine so, my love. It will be a joyous, if extravagant, affair.”
Lavender gave her sister a meaningful glance. Anna knew what it meant. She would be facing Daniel again within two weeks, and she had to tell him about their unborn child. She left her sister’s home full of misgivings about the plan to speak to Daniel. She wanted nothing from him other than an assurance of his financial support of his child when he or she was born. She planned what she would say, rehearsing it over and over during the next two weeks, while managing to keep the symptoms of her morning sickness to a minimum without attracting any further attention from her mother.
The day came when she and Lavender planned for her to go to see him. She was to ask to speak with the Marquess of Aberling on a private matter, and if pressed, she was to say it concerned the matter of the butcher’s son. As a plan, it was pretty thin, but they could see no other way of gaining an audience with him. George wondered why she was going to visit the manor house, and she made up an excuse about table linens that her mother might be asked to make. The ride to the manor house was silent, as George was not much for talking, and Anna was grateful for that, as she would not have been able to hold a conversation with him on any subject to save her life.
“Will you wait for me, please George?” she asked. “I shouldn’t be long.”
“Surely I will, Annabelle,” he said. “I’ll go and visit with the head groom, who is my friend.”
“Thank you,” she said, and hurried up the wide steps to the front door. A tall, gloomy-looking fellow answered her summons, and Asked her name. She told him, and when she stated her business, he asked why she wished an audience with the Marquess. She gave him the line about the butcher’s son, and he asked her to step inside and wait by the door. What seemed like forever later, but must only have been two or three minutes, the man returned and escorted her to an imposing door that had been left ajar.
“Miss Annabelle Tracy, Your Lordship,” the man announced, and ushered her into the room, closing the door behind her.
Anna remained by the door, and watched as Daniel’s eyes traced over her. She knew she had lost a little weight, and the frock she had chosen to wear, one of her two best frocks, was a pale blue that did not help her wan features. She didn’t care. She had not come to seduce him, as she had done the last time they had been together. Even now, she blushed to think how wanton she had been then, but she stood stiffly, refusing to lower her eyes as he perused her person. Finally, he spoke.
“Please, have a seat, Anna,” he invited her, and indicated the chair across from his desk.
She drank in the sight of him, dressed so formally, his cravat so neatly tied, his long legs encased in close-fitting blue pantaloons. Her eyes slid away from him, because she remembered how big he was down there, and how wonderful it had felt to have that part of him inside her, driving her up…
She closed her eyes as he asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my beauty?”
Her heart beat dully against her ribs, and she fought against the tears. “Please, if you will, do not use such endearments between us any longer. They are...repugnant to me.”
She hoped he would believe the lie, but knew he didn’t when he moved suddenly, and pulled her up from her chair by her shoulders, dragging her into his arms and holding her tightly, as though he would never let her go.
“Do not lie to me, Anna,” he whispered. “I know you well, and better than you think. I will refrain from using the endearments, not because they are repugnant to you, but rather because I see how they distress you. And as I have been the cause of all your distress of late, I do not wish to add to your burden.”
She sniffled, trying to wipe away the tears that had slipped out without his noticing. She should have known better. He released her and handed her a handkerchief.
“Dry your eyes, Anna, and tell me why you are really here. I venture to suppose that it has nothing to do with Clancy.”
Having applied the hanky to her cheeks, she sat down again, gripping her hands together, suddenly unsure of how to tell him what she knew he needed to hear. He resumed his seat behind the desk, and tried to help her.
“Are your parents in good health?”
Yes, thank you, they are both well,” she replied.
“And you sister and her family?”
“All well, My Lord,” she replied.
; “And you? Are you in health?”
Anna swallowed. “I have been ill this past month, my Lord,” she began, and watched as alarm stole over his face. She hastened to reassure him, perversely glad that he was pained by the thought of her being sick. “It is nothing untoward for the condition I am in.”
His look changed to one of puzzlement, and as she kept her silence, she saw a creeping understanding dawn on his face. But he said nothing, only waited, and she was forced to continue.
“My sister, who is the midwife’s assistant in Ashmeade Bottom, has confirmed that I am with child,” she said. She held his gaze for another moment, and then dropped her eyes.
He said nothing for so long a moment that she looked up and found his deep brown eyes burning at her. She stiffened her spine, prepared to hear denials, to be called a liar. Instead, he stood and came around to crouch beside her.
