Page 35

“What can I do?”

But Ophelia had known Maddie for all of her life, so she just waited.

“I told that ungrateful wretch that I’d raise his child,” Maddie burst out. “Oh! He’s so dreadful. First I accosted him with the news, and he pretended to know nothing. Then he admitted to giving the woman ten pounds so that she could bring the child to the Foundling Hospital when it was born.”

“One has to pay the Foundling Hospital?” Ophelia asked. She poured more tea, because in moments of crisis, tea helped.

Maddie added a great amount of sugar. “If you want the child to be apprenticed, yes. Penshallow had the nerve to boast that he took his responsibilities seriously! And then—oh, Phee, I can barely say this aloud, and only to you, obviously . . .”

“What is it?”

Maddie took a deep breath. “Then he suggested that if the child is a boy, we take him in and pretend that he’s mine. Because Penshallow needs an heir, obviously. And I don’t want to bed him ever again. I refuse.” Her voice rose.

Marriage was a terrible coil. Hugo’s unfaithful duchess came into Ophelia’s mind—and she pushed the thought away.

She was practicing a strict regimen of not thinking of the duke except in the dark of night, in her own bed, where she didn’t seem to be able to control herself.

“I think you should do it,” she said. “The child is Penshallow’s, after all, or he believes as much.”

“He says it is.” Maddie looked up, and Ophelia saw to her horror that her brave, plucky cousin was starting to cry. “The poor woman hadn’t known a man before him.”

“But he didn’t . . .”

Maddie shook her head. “Apparently, she is very beautiful and wants to take another protector and put this behind her.” She gave Ophelia a lopsided smile. “I think that my husband may have been roundly told off, for all he’s protesting that he was the one to end the liaison.”

“The baby exists, and it’s his,” Ophelia said. “Maddie, darling, I think this child may answer many problems, if it turns out to be male. If not, Viola will have a girl cousin, and you know how much I would love her to have more family.”

“She could have had any number of siblings, if only you hadn’t fled the ball so early,” Maddie said, sniffling as she pulled out a handkerchief.

“Nonsense,” Ophelia said. “How far along is, ah, your husband’s friend?”

“Far enough so that I must pad my waist immediately if I’m to carry it off,” Maddie said. “Thank goodness for sack gowns, for who’s to say whether I’m six months along or not?”

“That many?” Ophelia asked, startled.

Her cousin nodded, and picked up her handkerchief again.

“Maddie, it will be fine,” Ophelia said, after thinking it over. “I will go around with you for a few days, and make sure everyone knows that you’re carrying a child. Then you can retire here for your confinement. After a week or so, we’ll leave for Lindow Castle.”

“That would seem very strange,” Maddie objected.

“Not at all! Everyone knows you are my dearest cousin, and since your mother is no longer with us, it would be perfectly unexceptionable for you to stay with me. Oh, Maddie, we’ll have so much fun! I love babies, as you know.”

“I won’t have her here,” Maddie said, with sudden energy that suggested she cared more about Penshallow’s infidelity than she admitted.

“Of course not,” Ophelia said. “If you wish, I’ll speak to Penshallow myself. The woman must be well cared for, and not allowed to drink anything, particularly gin. I’ve read that it can lead to terrible problems.”

“I asked about her whereabouts,” Maddie said, sniffling again. “That wretch didn’t even bother to look ashamed. Apparently he owns a house where he’s been keeping her. I bid him to question the servants and make certain that she’s eating well. He’ll do it, as she may be carrying his heir.”

With that, she burst out sobbing, and Ophelia gathered her up and rocked her back and forth, making plans the whole while.

“Where are you bid to tonight?” she asked, once Maddie had calmed again.

“Nowhere tonight. Thursday, the theater, followed by supper at Lady Fernby’s house. I shall be in Penshallow’s box, though he has informed me that he is busy, likely with his other mistress, the one who isn’t carrying a child.”

“Excellent,” Ophelia said. “You must write to Lady Fernby, and tell her that due to your delicate condition, you wish me to accompany you. I’m sure that she’ll have no objection; we are quite friendly.”

“Oh, she loves you,” Maddie said. She brightened. “The Duke of Lindow will attend the supper, so you can meet again. Lady Fernby boasted that His Grace and Lady Woolhastings would join them.”