“I told him I was with child, and it was yours.”
“Why? Why tell him anything?”
“I am beginning to show. I can’t hide it for much longer. He would learn of it anyway eventually, especially if it became known it was yours.”
“And how did you convince him, in the circumstances, that I was the father and not him?” he asked grimly.
“I told him that I’d missed my courses after we—you—. But I was too upset to notice until later.”
“And had you?”
“No, I had them as normal after we parted. It was only after I was with him that they stopped.”
“I see. Well, that explains why you didn’t come to me earlier. You’re three months along, not five.”
“Yes,” she whispered, head still bowed.
“Where was Lannister bound, did he tell you?”
“No, but he left in a hurry when I told him that I had just come from speaking with the duchess.”
“I’ll bet he did!” Robert swore beneath his breath, pounding his fist on the mantelpiece. “My God, what a coil!”
She began to sob again, and he paced a bit trying to think. Finally, he came to a stop and said roughly, “Please stop crying, Madeleine. More properly, this is Lannister’s problem, not mine, but I’ll not see you destitute over this, for he’s not likely to help you. Just wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.”
She raised her face and looked at him, blinking wetly. He left the room and went into the library, where his desk was located. He drew out paper, pen, and ink.
In a few minutes, he was back and handed her a folded sheet. “Take that to Coutts’s Bank, it will ensure you have sufficient funds for your purposes. I will arrange for another house you can move into. If you continue at Clarges Street, everyone will assume the child is mine, and frankly I’d rather they didn’t. You can take everything with you, including the servants. I don’t expect we will see each other again.” He walked to the doorway. “Good day, Creighton will see you out.” He bowed and held the door for her.
She gathered up her bonnet and, still clutching his handkerchief and the folded paper, she left with one last wistful look over her shoulder at him. He watched as Creighton held the front door open for her, and she stepped over the threshold.
When Creighton closed the door on her, Robert’s shoulders slumped. He felt gutted by the events of the past hour, but there was no time to delay. If he was right, and Lannister was headed to Leicestershire to see Sarah, it might already be too late. He felt sick all over again.
“Have my horse brought round, Creighton. I’ll be leaving in fifteen minutes,” he said, heading up the stairs to fetch his baggage.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sarah retired toher room after Madeleine left and indulged in a hearty bout of tears, after which she felt so exhausted she fell asleep and did not wake until it was dark. Not feeling up to facing company, she rang for a bath, changed into a robe and ordered a tray for her room, not that she was very hungry. The pain in her heart made it hard to breathe, let alone eat. She spent the evening desultorily reading and staring into the fire, trying to fathom what to do.
Her instinct was to go home, back to the comfort of her family where she knew she was loved and cared for. Where she could be herself. She had assumed the mantle of a duchess, but she didn’t feel her title in her bones the way the dowager did and the way Robert did. He was the duke as much as he was the man, Robert Layne. She didn’t feel like a duchess or a Layne, yet she was no longer just a Watson either.
She wiped a tear off her cheek.Neither fish nor fowl.Wheredidshe belong?
And now this baby. It must have been conceived before Robert approached her at Almack’s, she thought, but how much before?Did he still love Madeleine?She was a beautiful woman, older than Sarah, she thought, and still stunning. It was obvious that Madeleine loved him. How long had they been together? Daphne had implied it was quite a while.
Her head ached almost as much as her heart.
She nodded over her book and dragged herself off to bed, tossing and turning until the small hours, finally falling into an exhausted sleep and not waking fully until close to midday.
After a wash and another tray in her room, she realized she couldn’t stay penned up all day and decided to go for a walk to clear her head. It wouldn’t help the state of her heart, but at least it might make her feel a little more like engaging with the world.
She feared Papa would be disappointed with her, giving in to such melancholy. She knew the antidote was hard work, but as the duchess she had none. The hardest things she had to do were order the meals and see that the household ran smoothly, and she had no doubt that while she was malingering in her room like this, the dowager had resumed those duties. So, there was no real need for her to do anything if she didn’t choose to. Which was so depressing she almost crawled back into bed.
Straightening her shoulders, she bade Esme a good afternoon and went downstairs where she collected her bonnet and cloak, and with a nod to Jardin, who held the door for her, she set off in the direction of the ruins she had heard so much about.
The scatter of stones and remnants of an old tower and staircase were all that remained. She tromped about miserably, staring at the ground. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until a voice hailed her.
“Your Grace.”
