My Fair Mistress (32 page)

After a few minutes of desultory conversation, Harry and her cousin departed, both of them insisting she remain abed and take a light, fortifying dinner in her room. They would see to the overnight guests, they reassured her.

Julianna didn’t think she could sleep anymore, but after her meal and a warm bath, the weariness returned. Curling gratefully beneath the sheets, she let the world slip away.

She awakened early the next morning feeling more refreshed and energetic than she had in weeks.

What bizarre dreams I had,
she mused, stretching her arms over her head. First, she’d fainted and the doctor had come to the house, and then he’d told her she was with child.

Slowly she lowered her arms, knowing none of it had been a dream.

Oh sweet lord, I am pregnant!

Sliding her hands beneath her nightgown, she laid her palms over her naked belly.

I don’t feel different,
she thought, unable to detect any additional fullness in her shape. But when she tried to suck in her stomach, her belly refused to flatten, retaining a faint rounded curve that definitely had not been there before.

Lying still, she let the full weight of the truth settle upon her.

I am carrying a baby. Rafe’s baby.

Oh heavens, Rafe!

What was she going to tell him? Assuming she decided to tell him anything, that is. Under the circumstances she wasn’t terribly sure he would even want to know he was going to be a father.

His words from their very first meeting rang in her ears. “Lord knows the last thing I want is to bring another bastard into the world,” he’d said in a hard voice.

She shivered. Understandably, he would be surprised. He might even be angry, she knew, especially after she had assured him there was no possibility of her ever conceiving a child. And after the determined manner in which he’d ended things between them, she had serious doubts he would want her and her child in his life.

So what to do?

Not only about Rafe, but about the baby as well? As a widow, she could not openly have the child. Society might forgive many things, but an out-of-wedlock birth was not one of them. She would have to keep her pregnancy a secret. And once the baby was born? What then?

Rubbing a hand over her abdomen, she fought back the sudden tears that filled her eyes. At least now she understood all the wild emotional swings with which she’d been dealing recently—her bouts of weepiness, her unpredictable moods, her overwhelming tiredness.

At the moment, she had no real idea what she was going to do, but upon one point she had no doubts.

I am going to keep this baby,
she vowed.

Many women in her situation would have been thinking about giving the baby away, using the next few months to find a trustworthy couple who would agree to take the child to raise as their own—for a price, of course.

But she could not do that. She’d waited too long for a baby. She wasn’t giving it up now.

As for how she was going to find a socially acceptable explanation for the sudden appearance of an infant in her life, she had no notion. Still, she had a bit of time before her pregnancy would start to show. Surely by then she would be able to figure out a solution.

At least she hoped so.

Once again her thoughts turned to Rafe, a familiar ache squeezing inside her chest. Try as she might, she could not seem to stop loving him, though God knows she wished otherwise. Now with the baby, Rafe would be in her mind even more.

A part of her wished she could simply lay her problems at his feet, but she would not beg, not even for the baby. Besides, she had sufficient income and no need of his financial assistance. As for her other admitted difficulties, well, she had already decided she would work those out on her own.

She frowned as her earlier quandary returned.

Should I tell him about the baby?

Moments later she gave a firm, negative shake of her head.

Rafe had made his feelings clear, painfully so. He most assuredly did not want her, and she very much doubted he would want her child, either. Even if he did agree to accept responsibility, she knew he would do so out of duty and obligation. Well, she wanted none of that.

No,
she thought,
this baby is mine. I, and I alone, will see to its care.

A twinge of guilt tingled inside her over her peremptory decision, but she ignored the sensation, brushing it aside.

Seconds later, her stomach gave an empty rumble.

Goodness, I am famished,
she thought. Her lips curved, realizing increased hunger would probably be a frequent occurrence now that she was eating for two.

Deciding she would go downstairs for breakfast, she tossed back the covers, then padded barefoot across the room to ring for Daisy.

“I’ve laid out your lilac traveling dress, my lady,” Daisy said, pausing as she finished packing the last of Julianna’s belongings into a pair of heavy trunks. “I hope that is agreeable?”

“Quite agreeable. Thank you, Daisy,” Julianna said, casting a brief glance up from the letter she was writing to Maris.

After nearly a week, she was leaving Davies Manor and returning home to London.

Just this afternoon the last of the wedding guests had departed, relatives old and new, promising to see her in a few months for the holidays. She’d nodded her agreement but knew she would not be seeing any of them, since by then she would be as round and plump as the goose that would be served for Christmas dinner.

Harry would be accompanying her back to Town, but Cousin Henrietta would not. With Maris now safely wed, the older woman had decided to visit her eldest daughter, who was expecting her second child in November. Henrietta said that perhaps she’d stay on after the birth, buy a small cottage, and act the doting granny. Yesterday afternoon, she and Julianna had kissed and hugged and shared promises to write often; then Henrietta had been on her way.

Upstairs now in her bedchamber, Julianna finished penning her note to Maris, which she planned to leave with today’s outgoing post. Dusting the letter with sand, she folded the missive and sealed it with wax. Flipping the paper over, she wrote her sister’s new address on the outside in a neat hand.

Knowing Harry must be growing anxious to depart, she set her pen aside, then sprang to her feet. Dizziness hit her like a crashing wave, her thoughts blurring as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. Reaching out, she gripped her chair, then quite abruptly sat back down.

Daisy paused in her packing. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“What? Oh, I’m fine. Fine.” Julianna sat trembling, fighting to regain her balance.

Bother it!
she cursed. She’d hoped her days of dizziness and fainting spells were over, but apparently her body had other ideas.

When she wavered again, Daisy hurried across the room to her. Setting a cool hand to the back of Julianna’s neck, her maid urged her to bend forward and place her head between her knees.

“Go on, my lady. Lean down. It’s what always helped my mother when she was expecting. Take slow breaths. You’ll be fine in a few moments.”

Daisy rubbed her other palm in comforting circles across Julianna’s back, holding her steady until her vertigo finally receded. Only after she began to feel herself again did Julianna consider her maid’s words.

Slowly she raised herself into an upright position. “What did you say?” she asked in a faint voice.

Daisy met her gaze, the girl’s hazel eyes wide with knowledge. “You mean about you being in the family way? Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything, but there’s no need to hide the obvious.”

Obvious!
Julianna’s stomach lurched.
How obvious is it?

Julianna lowered her voice. “What do you mean? How can you tell?”
Could other people tell? Could Henrietta? Or Harry? Oh, my!

Obviously reading Julianna’s distress, Daisy rushed to reassure her. “I’m sure I’m the only one who knows, besides the doctor, that is. I’ve suspected for a few weeks now, my lady. After all, I do tend to your personal needs, and when you missed your monthly twice in a row, well, I had to wonder. After you fainted, that’s when I knew for sure. The doctor did say you’re with child, didn’t he?”

She straightened her spine. “Yes. Apparently I am the only one of the three of us who didn’t have a clue.”

“Well, that’s not surprising being this is your first babe.”

Staring at the younger woman, she crossed her arms. “And how is it that you come to know so much about such matters, seeing as you have no children of your own? Unless I am mistaken about that?”

The maid had the grace to flush. “Mercy no, I’ve no little ones of my own. But I know a lot about pregnant women and babies. I am the oldest of twelve and helped me mum whenever she was carrying. Saw to the young ones, too, at least until I left to come into service.”

Julianna had known Daisy had a great many siblings, but she’d never realized that she’d helped raise half of them.

“It’s a good thing that I know,” her maid continued. “You’ll be needing someone to look after you in the months to come.”

Perhaps Daisy was right, Julianna judged. She would need someone to look after her as her pregnancy progressed. And what a relief to have someone in whom to confide, someone else who knew the truth. Only a few days had passed since she’d discovered her condition, but already she was chafing under the weight of the secret. Maybe it was a providential thing that she knew.

“You mustn’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” Julianna admonished quietly.

A look of hurt flashed over the servant’s face. “I would never betray your confidence, my lady. I like to pride myself on my loyalty. I should hope you would know that by now.”

Julianna reached out and patted Daisy’s hand in apology. “Of course, I’m sorry, and you’re right. I know I can count upon your discretion.” She paused and drew in a deep, steadying breath. “Are you horribly shocked?”
Disapproving? Scandalized?

“About the babe? I was a little startled at first, but not really surprised, no.”

Julianna raised a brow. “Why ever not?”

Daisy ducked her head. “Well, I’ve known you were seeing a gentleman for the last while, my lady.”

Oh, good gracious! Is there anything she doesn’t know?

“And how, pray tell, did you discover that?”

“Well, sometimes when you’d return home, your clothes would smell ever so faintly of bayberry. And then there was your hair.”

“What about my hair?” Julianna lifted a self-conscious hand and touched her tresses.

“It were neatly done and all, prettily styled, but not the way I do it. The strands were twisted differently, the pins moved round and such.”

And here she and Rafe had thought themselves so clever, so careful, when all along her maid had known about them because of her hairstyle.

“I suppose you know his identity as well?”

The girl shook her head. “No, my lady. I’m no snoop to be prying into such matters as aren’t my business.”

Julianna released a breath.

“I know he hurt you, though, and I don’t like him for it. I don’t like him at all.”

“Thank you, Daisy, but do not be too severe upon him. He cannot help his feelings any more than I can my own, I suppose. Now let us speak of him no more.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’m sorry if I’ve unsettled you, and you in a family way and all.”

Suddenly the door thumped open.

Turning her head, Julianna met her brother’s astonished, wide-eyed gaze.

She groaned, feeling a little ill.

Had Harry heard? Of course he had; all I have to do is look at his face to know.

Pushing the door wider, Harry strode inside, pinning Julianna with a condemning glance. “Is it true?”

“What were you doing eavesdropping outside my door?” she said, hoping the question would buy her a few extra moments in which to brace herself for the confrontation to come.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping…at least not intentionally. I came to ask when you might be ready to depart, and what do I hear but…my God, are you really…enceinte?” he finished on an appalled whisper.

Drawing a deep breath, she linked her trembling fingers in her lap. “Daisy, if you would be so good, please leave us.”

The maid shot her a sympathetic glance, then curtseyed and hurried from the room.

The click of the latch echoed loudly. A long minute passed.

“
Well?”
Harry demanded. “Have you nothing to say?”

She gave a small sigh. “What would you like me to say?”

“To begin, you might tell me when I can expect an invitation to the wedding.”

“What wedding?”

“
Your
wedding!” he exploded.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he visibly attempted to calm himself. “You
are
getting married, I presume. The man who got you,” he paused, circling a hand toward her stomach, “in your present condition, is going to do the right thing and marry you, is he not?”

She wiped her suddenly perspiring palms on her skirt, then answered as plainly and as bluntly as she could. “No, he is not.”

Her words reverberated between them like a thunderclap.