“The day I get tired of your laughter, spirits, and mind will be the day I get tired of life.” He hadn’t meant to say something so serious, but he wouldn’t take his words back.
She stopped smiling though, which was unfortunate.
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to sound so…”
“Charming?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Charming. Now that’s a term people never associate with me.”
“Good. I like being unique and being the only one who notices that of you.” She smoothed a fold on her skirt. “I found your reasons for wanting to marry me charming.”
He had no idea how the conversation had turned so thoughtful in such a short time, but he didn’t mind.
When the carriage stopped in Oxford Street, he got out and offered her his hand. She jumped out of the carriage, holding his hand tightly, and he wished he could hold her a little longer.
“Please be careful when you take part in these marches,” he said. “You never know how the people might react.”
She bowed her head. “The day I stop being careful will be the day I…” Her eyebrows knit together. “I have no idea because I’ve never been particularly careful.”
He laughed. Yes, he still wanted to marry her.
* * *
Isabella heardthe words Dr. Eileen Norris had said, but try as she might, she couldn’t understand them.
The consulting room at the New Hospital for Women in Mayfair seemed to turn darker. The hospital had been founded by a fellow suffragette, Dr. Elizabeth Garrett Anderson, and Isabella had always wished to visit it.
She’d changed her mind.
“Excuse me, doctor,” she said in a small voice, “would you say that again?”
“You’re with child, Lady Isabella. Four weeks is my guess.”
The guess was more than correct because exactly four weeks ago, she’d given her virginity to Patrick in a dimly lit conservatory of all places.
With child. She was carrying Patrick’s child.
The aftermath of her rendezvous with Patrick had been wonderful. She’d glowed for the whole night, for the whole month! Her body had been deliciously sensitive, reminding her of the pleasure Patrick had given her. He’d been kind and generous although it’d taken her almost half an hour to clean herself afterwards.
Her petticoats had been stained. Her hair had been a disaster. Thank goodness the mask had covered her blushes. But aside from that, she’d experienced a level of pleasure she had no idea existed. She’d wanted to do it all again, but he’d told her to wait in case she became sore. But she hadn’t experienced any soreness. Only blissful excitement.
All that pleasure wasn’t worth the absolute dread of her present moment.
When her monthly bleeding hadn’t come, she’d thought nothing of it, but Lawson had insisted she visit the women’s hospital. So here she was, utterly terrified and feeling like an idiot.
“Lady Isabella.” Dr. Norris tilted her head to catch her gaze. “I understand this is a shock.”
She stammered, “But he was careful. He…he used a sheath.”
“Yes, but unfortunately, the practice isn’t infallible. Sometimes, a small hole in the sheath is enough.”
Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the room. “I’m not…I don’t even have an intended. My family will be ruined. How can I explain this to my father? The man isn’t my betrothed.”
The doctor’s calm voice did nothing to soothe her. “The first thing you should do is talk with the gentleman who was with you. Ideally, he would propose marriage. If he refuses, you can choose to talk to your family. Or, as many women in your situation do, you may leave London and retire to the country for a few months, give birth, and then the local parish will take care of the baby.”
How could she do that without telling her parents? Did she want to give the baby away? Did she want to marry Patrick?
A sickening choking sensation crawled up her throat. A child, her parents’ anger, and Patrick leaving in a matter of days. Too many things to consider with no preparation.
“It’s overwhelming,” Dr. Norris said. “But you aren’t the first woman in this situation, and you have options. Talk to the gentleman.”
She gripped the armrests as the room tilted and the sunlight darkened.
“Lady Isabella, take deep breaths.”
She did as told. When the oppressive sensation on her chest eased, she licked her dry lips. “What do you recommend?”
Dr. Norris took her hand. “It’s for you to decide. But the best option for you and the child is a wedding. A quick one. Not necessarily with the father.”
Yes, because finding someone who wanted to marry a pregnant woman was easy.
