by Laura Martin
‘I hope you didn’t mind my input on the record keeping,’ Mrs Hunter said as she paused next to Lucy. ‘The last thing I wish is to be interfering. You do such a wonderful job here.’
‘Not at all, Mrs Hunter,’ Lucy said with a smile. ‘It is always helpful to have someone else’s opinion on these matters, especially someone invested in the success of the Foundation.’
‘I do think it is the most worthwhile cause.’
Lucy had to agree with her.
‘Thank you for coming to the meeting,’ Lucy said. ‘And we should arrange to have tea together some time soon.’
Mrs Hunter’s face lit up at the prospect and Lucy, who had issued the invitation out of politeness, realised that she wouldn’t mind spending an hour talking over a nice cup of tea with her.
‘That’s very kind, Lady Sedgewick.’
‘You’d be very welcome at Sedgewick House any time.’
Mrs Hunter clasped her hand and squeezed it, before hurrying out after the other patrons. She was a relatively new supporter, joining the small group of patrons a little over a month ago, but she seemed keen and intelligent and willing to be an active member of the board.
‘Well done,’ Oliver said, coming to her side. ‘You did splendidly.’
‘Thank you for stepping in.’
‘My pleasure. Are you staying here for the rest of the afternoon?’
Lucy hesitated. There were a few administration bits and bobs she needed to get done, registering a couple of the new arrivals properly and seeing if she could match them to any work, but none of it was pressing.
‘I’ll return home with you. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow.’
* * *
‘You’ve been very quiet,’ Oliver observed as they sat in the small library together. The maids had lit a fire and the room was illuminated in a soft orange glow. With the curtains pulled and the door closed, it was cosy and intimate.
She smiled at him, trying to think of some little white lie, not wanting to tell him she was still mulling over the realisation that her husband loved her.
‘Come sit with me,’ he said.
‘There’s hardly room for you in that chair.’
He was seated in an upright armchair, with huge leather arms that took up most of the space, leaving just enough for one man to sit in.
‘Is that a challenge?’ Oliver asked.
Lucy rose and crossed the small room, stopping in front of him. Looping an arm around her waist, he pulled her towards him, tugging until she tumbled into his lap.
With a giggle, she shuffled her bottom until she was comfortable.
‘Plenty of room for two,’ Oliver declared.
‘Only if you like your companion close.’
‘I do.’
He leaned in and kissed her neck, just at the base where it met her shoulder, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.
‘I can’t think of a better way to spend a cold evening,’ Oliver murmured. ‘Seated by the fire with my wife close by.’
‘Very close by.’
‘Maybe not close enough,’ he said, pulling her back a little more so her body rested against his.
‘A servant could walk in at any moment,’ Lucy whispered, looking at the door.
‘They should know better than to disturb a man and his wife in such a romantic spot.’
He kissed her again, tracing his lips over the nape of her neck, the light touch tickling and making her squirm in his lap.
‘If only the chair was bigger,’ Lucy mused thoughtfully.
‘Why?’
‘Then I could turn around and face you.’
‘Why would you want to do that?’ he asked.
‘It would make certain things a little easier.’
Understanding dawned in his eyes and within a second he had risen from the chair, Lucy cradled in his arms, crossed to the door and flicked the lock, then seated them on the much larger sofa in front of the fire.
Wriggling, Lucy managed to turn around so she was facing him, her legs straddling his.
‘I like this position,’ Oliver murmured, his hands resting just above her hips.
‘I thought you might.’
Dipping her head, Lucy kissed him gently, sighing as he ran his hands over her waist and on to the top of her thighs before rustling the material of her dress to get to her skin. Once under the multiple layers of dress, petticoat and chemise, he began caressing her thighs, making her rock in his lap.
‘Lucy,’ Oliver groaned and she felt a smile blossom on her lips. She liked that she could make him almost delirious in just a few short minutes. Reaching down, she found the fastening to his breeches and began to slowly work it undone. He was hard and ready for her and without any hesitation Lucy moved her hips to position herself over him. Gently she sank lower, loving how he moaned as she took him inside her and only pausing when he filled her completely.
Slowly, trying to draw out the pleasure, she rose again, working out a rhythm to her movements as his hands guided her hips, urging her faster and faster. She held out for a few minutes, keeping the slow steady pace, but gradually she felt her resolve slipping and her movements become more frantic. Her head dropped back and she felt the tension building deep inside her.
Wave upon wave of pleasure crashed through her body, every muscle tightened and beneath her she felt Oliver stiffen. She was too deep in her own pleasure to understand what his frantic movements meant, resisting when he tried to push her off him, wanting to draw out her climax for a few moments longer.
‘Lucy...’ he cried, panic in his eyes.
It was twenty seconds before she had recovered enough to understand what he had been trying to tell her.
‘No,’ she gasped, pushing herself off him so quickly she stumbled backwards, arms reeling as she tried to regain her balance.
Oliver was scrambling to his feet, tucking himself away as he did so, but she just kept backing away.
‘What have we done?’
‘Just keep calm, Lucy,’ Oliver said, his voice soothing. ‘It was just the once.’
It was true; all the other times they had been intimate Oliver had spilled himself on the sheets. This time, when she was in control, she’d just completely forgotten in the midst of her desire.
‘Think about it, Lucy, people try for months to get pregnant without any success. How likely is it we succeed with just one slip?’
She knew he was right, but still she felt a deep-seated panic taking hold of her.
‘We can’t...’ she stuttered.
‘Hush,’ he said, crossing the room and taking her in his arms. ‘There’s nothing to be done now.’
‘But we...’ She trailed off again, unable to finish a thought let alone a sentence.
‘Come, sit. Take a few deep breaths.’
With small steps he led her back to the sofa and sat her down, rubbing her back as he encouraged her to breathe. Slowly Lucy felt some of the panic lifting as she calmed.
‘I can’t get pregnant again. I can’t do it.’
‘Just try to relax,’ Oliver said, his voice low and reassuring. ‘As I said, it is unlikely that this one slip will lead to anything. We’ve been so careful.’
‘But we conceived easily last time.’
He hesitated for a moment and Lucy could see he had to concede her point. ‘We did, but we hardly left the bedroom for a month and we certainly were not taking precautions like we have been.’
‘You think it will be all right?’ she asked, needing him to reassure her one more time.
‘I think it will.’
Breathing deeply, she managed to nod. He was probably right—what were the chances they would conceive with just one slip?
‘Would it really be so terrible?’ Oliver asked as she sank back into him, her heart finally sl
owing to a normal pace. Lucy knew her husband has misgivings about starting a family again soon. She suspected he was wary of how she would react to a pregnancy and worried she might flee again if there was something wrong with their next child. However, whenever children were brought up she saw the longing in his eyes and knew one day he would want a family.
‘Yes,’ she said firmly.
‘Tell me again why.’
‘David’s death nearly killed me. I barely functioned for a very long time. I don’t think I could go through that again.’
‘The grief I understand,’ Oliver said, ‘but what makes you think we would lose another child?’
‘People do, don’t they? Even if they’re born healthy there’s all the childhood illnesses and fevers, the chance of pneumonia and the perils of other maladies.’
‘But every parent goes through that worry.’
‘And I’m sure some can cope perfectly well with losing more than one child, but I couldn’t.’
She closed her eyes, hoping it would signal an end to the topic, but Oliver pushed on.
‘Do you think we have a higher chance of having another child with health issues like David?’ he asked.
She shrugged, not able to look at him.
‘I don’t think it’s true, Lucy. As I’ve told you before, when I spoke to the doctor he said there was no reason our next child couldn’t be completely healthy.’
The doctor had told her the same thing only moments after David’s birth, his voice commiserating as he looked over the newborn in her arms.
Over the year she’d considered many times whether she might one day want more children, but always it had seemed too dangerous to her already fragile heart. Even wishing for another child made Lucy feel guilty, as if she was dismissing David and his short life as not worthwhile.
‘It would be better if we didn’t have to have any more children,’ Lucy said firmly. ‘We have each other. You have your estate to run. I have the Foundation. We both lead very full lives.’
She didn’t tell him about the yearning she felt when a mother brought her young baby to the Foundation, or when a child lifted its arms for a hug. Every time she told herself it was an inbuilt instinct all women had, that desire to be a mother, but she was determined to suppress it to protect herself from further heartbreak.
Chapter Nineteen
A bright October ran into a cold and rainy November and every day Lucy got up in the morning, hoping for a sign that she was not pregnant. Normally her cycle was regular, but it could vary from month to month by a couple of days, so when she was four days overdue she told herself not to panic and to be patient. Five days and then six came and went, and only when she was a week late did she start to feel flustered.
Feeling ridiculous, but unable to stop herself, Lucy made an appointment to see a doctor when she was eight days overdue. He was a kindly man in his late fifties who volunteered some of his time for free to treat the women and children at the Foundation when they first arrived. Lucy had initially enquired about seeing someone else, someone she didn’t know, but if she were going to keep the appointment secret from Oliver she knew she would have to make it seem like a meeting that was to discuss Foundation matters, not something private.
She arrived at Dr White’s office ten minutes early and entered to find a middle-aged woman behind a desk in the hall.
‘Lady Sedgewick to see Dr White,’ Lucy said quietly, although the hall was deserted.
‘Please take a seat. He will be with you in a few minutes.’
As she sat Lucy wondered if the woman was the doctor’s wife. She looked about the right age and she had a confidence about her that suited a relation rather than an employee.
With great effort Lucy tried not to fidget. She was petrified of what Dr White might tell her and felt sick and tremulous. As she sat she realised her hands were shaking and it took some serious concentration to still them as she laid them in her lap. Trying to distract herself, she looked around, but found nothing could take her mind off the worries that were circling inside her head.
‘Lady Sedgewick,’ Dr White said as he came out of his office a few minutes later. ‘Do come in. Can I offer you some tea?’
Lucy thought she might vomit if she consumed anything, so declined politely.
‘It is a pleasure to see you here, but I do hope you’re not unwell.’
‘Not unwell as such, I’m just looking for a little advice.’
‘Please ask anything. I shall endeavour to help.’
‘It is a little sensitive.’ She hesitated and glanced up at the reassuring older man. He sat quietly, waiting for her to proceed. ‘I am overdue my monthly courses, not by very long, but I wanted to know how early one could be sure of a pregnancy.’
‘You and your husband are eager for a child?’ the doctor asked.
Lucy felt the heat rising in her cheeks and a lump forming in her throat.
‘Not exactly,’ she said. ‘I would prefer not to be pregnant, but more importantly I need to know.’
‘Might I enquire as to the reasons behind your reluctance?’ Dr White said. From anyone else it might seem like an impertinent question, but Dr White made it sound like a routine medical enquiry. He had a soft and reassuring voice, and Lucy knew over the years many of his patients would have been induced to tell him their darkest secrets by that calming tone.
‘We had a child—a son. He was born with certain difficulties and he died at a very young age.’
‘I see,’ Dr White said. ‘And you worry another child might be the same.’
She nodded. Despite what the doctor had told her after the birth of David she had always wondered if she could give birth to a child again without any problems. Her brother and her son had seemed to have different conditions, but what if something did run in her family?
‘I couldn’t cope with losing another child.’
‘And your husband?’
‘He would like us to try for another baby, at some point in the future, but I don’t think he truly understands the risks involved.’
He might say he would love a child with difficulties, but would he really if he was presented with a child that looked or acted differently? So many people couldn’t see beneath that initial impression to the wonderful, unique child. Oliver was a good man, but she couldn’t be sure how he would react.
‘Have you discussed your differing opinions with your husband?’
Lucy sighed, looking down and picking absently at the hem of her dress.
‘He knows how I feel.’
Deep down Lucy knew Oliver didn’t accept her decision as final. She could see the hope in his eyes, the belief that one day she might change her mind and decide that starting a family with him was a good idea. Right now he wasn’t pressing the subject, but one day, when he was confident the trust between them had been rebuilt, she knew it would become an issue.
‘I see.’
‘I need to know if I am pregnant and, if I am, I can plan accordingly.’
‘You don’t mean...’ The doctor trailed off, his eyes wide with shock. It seemed the man who had seen all manner of maladies and injuries was still shockable.
‘No, I don’t mean abortion,’ Lucy said quickly. ‘I just need to know.’
‘Right, well, let’s see what we can find out.’ Doctor White sat up straighter now they had left the emotional issues behind them and were talking purely of the practical.
‘When was your last menstrual bleed?’
‘Five weeks ago.’
Doctor White’s eyes widened and he stroked his smooth chin.
‘Not very long ago, then.’
‘I understand that. I just wasn’t sure if there was any way of finding out this early.’
‘Unfortunately not. I wish there was—I would be a rich man if I could tell women one way or another thi
s early on.’
‘And there can be other reasons for my monthly courses to be delayed?’
‘Indeed. Stress, a change in diet, a change in circumstances—a myriad of things. Many times we do not know why one way or another.’
‘So the only way of knowing is waiting for my belly to grow and to miss more courses.’
Doctor White nodded. ‘Of course some women experience certain symptoms in the early weeks of their pregnancy. Nausea and sickness, bloating, tenderness in the breasts, extreme fatigue.’
Lucy felt herself relax a little; she hadn’t felt any of these things so far.
‘I’m sorry, Lady Sedgewick. There is nothing more I can tell you at present, but perhaps you should discuss your concerns further with your husband.’
‘I’m sure he’s aware of them.’ He had to be—she still cringed at the violent way she’d reacted when she had realised how their lovemaking in the library had ended. And it was all her fault; he’d tried to warn her, tried to push her off.
‘Go home, rest, try not to worry yourself too much. Perhaps come back and see me next month and we can see what the circumstances are then.’
‘Thank you,’ Lucy said, reluctant to leave without a more definitive answer, even though she’d known all along it was unlikely she would get one.
‘Take care of yourself, Lady Sedgewick.’
She rose and he escorted her to the door. Once back in the street she began walking, needing to clear her head before heading back home. She didn’t think Oliver had noticed anything was amiss with her yet, but she was having to work hard to keep up the pretence. It wouldn’t do for her to arrive home flustered and out of sorts, he was far too astute to miss that.
She didn’t want to tell him, not yet, not until she was sure one way or another. Their fragile relationship was just beginning to recover and the stress of a pregnancy wouldn’t help it. She knew one day Oliver would want children again, but at present he was content with trying to rebuild the trust and intimacy between them. Lucy agreed, they needed time to get to know one another, as well as deal with their grief over losing David, before they even thought of children. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready to try again and right now she wished they could focus on their fledgling marriage without the added stress of a possible pregnancy.
