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twenty-eight

I sabella had to tell Anthony the truth, or she would feel guilty for the rest of her life. She would face the consequences of his anger, whatever they might be. Had he been cold or simply uninterested in her, she would have felt less guilty. But his kindness disarmed her of her strongest intentions.

When marrying Anthony had presented itself as the only solution, she hadn’t foreseen the repercussions of her lies. She blamed her weakness and lack of judgement for everything she’d done. Although she hadn’t foreseen the riot of sweet feelings for him.

But would he have married her knowing she was with child? Not likely. He would have forced his brother to marry her, but then again, what kind of future would that be for her child? Patrick had proven to be unreliable, and she wanted a proper family with a husband she trusted. When she’d wanted a tumble with him, she’d been aware of his libertine nature, and she wondered what he would have done if she’d had the chance to tell him about the baby.

The semidarkness in her room echoed her own thoughts. During the day, the endless discussions with Lawson sped time up. Lawson insisted that she seduce Anthony immediately, but how could she?

At night, she was alone with her thoughts. She felt as if she were in a maze in which she couldn’t find the exit.

She sat upright when the door connecting to Anthony’s room opened. Her pulse thundered faster, and her mouth became dry. For the past nights, he’d come to sleep with her, and she’d enjoyed every moment. The sense of safety he gave her allowed her to sleep without waking up from a nightmare.

But tonight was going to be different. Tonight, she would tell him everything and so be it.

The light pouring from his bedroom formed a halo around him. In the dim light, he stood more imposing and threatening than usual. The dark-red brocade dressing gown gave him the look of a knight of old.

“Isabella.” His deep voice reverberated in her stomach.

“I’m awake.” She wished she didn’t sound so weak.

He sat on the bed. “I wanted to know how you were faring. You burst out crying twice today, and then you ate very little at dinner. I won’t sleep with you unless you want me in your bed.”

Cold sweat dampened her back. Why was her heartbeat so quick? It had to be her guilt. She couldn’t believe she was an easily frightened woman. “I’m tired. But otherwise, I’m all right.”

He nodded, hands on his lap. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” She straightened, but a cramp slashed through her abdomen. “Can we talk for a while?”

He smiled. “Of course.” The bed dipped when he shifted his position. “If there’s anything I can do to make you happy here, you have only to mention it. Lady Mary’s allowance is all set. She lives close to Mayfair now.”

“That’s fantastic.” She winced at a new pang.

“She sent me a letter to thank us. I forgot to tell you.”

Another cramp lanced through her, but his words softened the pain. “You’re so kind to me.” She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth not to cry. “There’s something I must tell you. Something that will make you change your mind about me.”

He frowned.

“Anthony, I—” The rest of her confession was swallowed by a gasp. The pain clenching her belly was so excruciating she couldn’t scream.

“Isabella.” He put a hand on her shoulder as she sagged forwards.

Another cramp tore a groan of agony out of her. She gripped his arm, sinking her fingers into his muscles. It was like being slashed in two.

“I’ll send for the physician.” He went to stand up, but she tugged at his arm.

“Dr. Eileen Norris,” she said among pants. “Please. Lawson knows where to find her.”

“Immediately. I’ll tell Lawson.” He rushed out of the bedroom.

She curled up into a ball, rocked by muscular spasms that made her want to throw up. The room spun. She screamed in pain.

“Madam.” Lawson swept into view and put a hand on Isabella’s forehead. “I’ve sent for Dr. Norris. What is it?”

“The baby.” Each word stole her breath.

Lawson shoved aside the covers. “You’re bleeding.”

She gnashed her teeth against another spasm. Minutes of complete agony passed. Sweat drenched her nightgown. Each spasm rocked her harder.

Lawson came and went from the bedroom, talking with someone. Another maid appeared. Isabella might have seen the Dowager but couldn’t be sure. The whole household seemed to be up and about.

“Dr. Norris is here,” Lawson said, but Isabella couldn’t say anything.

Heavy footsteps approached. “My wife felt sick all of a sudden,” Anthony said.

“I’ll take care of her, Your Grace.”

Hearing Dr. Norris’s calm voice brought Isabella some comfort.

“I can help,” he said. “Let me stay.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, but Lawson will do.”

There were mutters and footfalls, Anthony said something else, then quiet. Except for her groans of pain.

Dr. Norris rushed to Isabella’s side. “What happened?”

“Cramps,” Lawson said, “and she’s bleeding.”

“Let me see.” The doctor pulled down the covers.

Isabella stifled a scream in the pillow.

Dr. Norris checked her pulse and touched her neck. “I know it hurts, but I need you to lie down and be still.”

Tears blurred her vision, but she did as she was told.