Page 2 of His Stolen Duchess

“You’re with child,” Georgina noted.

Dottie nodded, tears flowing silently down her cheeks.

Georgina stirred the milk as it began to warm. “I gather those are not happy tears, so… this wasn’t planned, was it?”

Dottie shook her head, unable to look at Georgina.

“Was it one of our footmen?” Georgina asked.

The girl shook her head again, chewing the inside of her cheek. The shameful expression on her face made Georgina frown.

“Was it someone in society?” Georgina asked. “Did he force you?”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Dottie sobbed. “H-He was charming and good to me, and I thought he might even… when I told him I was with child, he… he threatened me, told me I had to disappear.”

Georgina gasped. “That’s awful.”

Some of the milk spilled from the pan as she stirred it vigorously.

“Such men have no decency,” she added, “I don’t need to know his name, but if you do wish to share, I will do my utmost to bring him to justice.”

Dottie smiled, and her shoulders bobbed with her laughter.

But her laughter soured quickly, and she descended into weeping again.

“I would… n-never have… it was before you were courting… I promise!”

Georgina leaned on the spoon, which toppled from the pan, sending a ribbon of white milk into the air before it left her hand and clattered to the stone floor.

For a moment, her heart skipped a beat. Then it swiftly began to pound, each beat like a dagger in her chest. She ignored the spoon and placed one hand on her chest.

“Lord Abbington,” Georgina whispered.

The man I’m to marry today.

Dottie hunched over where she sat, crying like she had when Georgina first entered the kitchens.

“I didn’t want anything,” Dottie said darkly, still facing the cold wall. The tears had stopped momentarily. “I know he can’t be a father to the child, but perhaps a small amount of money… to look after the child, not a significant amount by any means! I barely have enough for myself. But the Earl… he turned me away. He told me I was a liar, and that if I told anyone, he would…”

She paused, breaking into harder sobs, and Georgina patted her back gently.

Once she’d calmed a little, Dottie continued, “When I heard he was courting you, I promised myself that I would tell no one, that I wouldn’t ruin anything for you, and I shouldn’t have said anything this morning. I should have kept my mouth shut, but now, I’ve ruined it all! This is all my fault!”

“No,” Georgina managed. The anger inside was rising like the flames licking the dry wood she’d added to the embers, and soonit would bubble over like the milk in the pan if left unattended. “This is not your fault. This ishisfault, and he will not get away with it.”

Dottie suddenly spun around. “No, please! Please don’t say anything; I’m begging you, my lady!”

“I’m going to make this right,” Georgina told her, “I promise.”

As the milk began to bubble, her cheeks reddened. Her appetite had disappeared.

“Please, my lady,” Dottie implored, “If the Earl finds out… I-I don’t want anything to happen to the child.”

“Nothing will happen to your child, you have my word.” She removed the pan from the heat. “I want you to stay here and drink some milk. Drink enough for both of us—or rather, for both of you. I want you to put it out of your mind for now and go about your day as if it were any other. Can you do that for me?”

“But—”

“For me, Dottie. For my wedding gift.”