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“Yes, that is true and good advice. And on any other night, I think it would be a wonderful idea, but Araminta, I truly thought you’d not wish to be in company with Lord Ludbridge after....” Hetty was unable to finish her sentence. Indeed, she looked greatly upset.
“Are you trying to stop me from having any fun while my husband carouses to his heart’s content?” Araminta hauled herself up, gasping at the pain and silently cursing the cargo she carried. This baby was not going to stand in the way of what she deserved. “Surely I should be as happy as you, Hetty.” She dashed away the sudden wetness on her cheeks, surprised by the force of her emotion. “Am I not as worthy? As for Lord Ludbridge, he knows the wicked, scandalous way Debenham behaved toward me, and that he gave me no choice but to be his wife and to forsake the man I truly loved.”
“Mr. Woking?”
“Lord, Hetty, I’m talking about my darling Teddy. Lord Ludbridge. We were mad for each other. Do you truly imagine I’d have chosen to marry Lord Debenham if I could have had Lord Ludbridge for my husband?”
“Lord Ludbridge would have been easier to manage,” Hetty agreed.
Araminta didn’t like her doubtful look, and rushed to ensure that her sister knew the truth.
“You don’t believe those awful rumors everyone was whispering, do you, dearest?” she asked, moving with ungainly
haste across the soft carpet to detain Hetty. “I mean, what Debenham orchestrated was truly dastardly. You, of anyone, should know that. Especially after he...he threatened you. With a broken bottle. I didn’t think I could ever forgive him after that, but when he used those awful threats that forced me to become his wife and to sacrifice my happiness in order to protect you and Papa—“
“What are you saying, Araminta? He threatened us?”
Araminta seized her opportunity. She put her hand on her sister’s shoulder and looked earnestly at her.“Debenham was madly in love with me, but when I said I didn’t want to marry him, he said he would ruin Papa and that...that he wasn’t done with Sir Aubrey. So yes, of course I had to marry him.” She swallowed. “To protect you. You see why I now wish to put my terrible, tragic past behind me and to find some happiness where I can? Even if it’s only spending an evening talking to Lord Ludbridge, whom I wish with all my heart I could have married. Oh Hetty, all I want is to have a brief respite from my misery and to get rid of this baby!”
“Get rid of it!?”
“You know what I mean. Look at you, you’re happy, you were made for breeding. I’m not. I despise the way it’s ruined my shape. I detest the clumsy, awkward way it makes me feel. I won’t pretend to be better than I am, but do afford me some sisterly sympathy. I’m trying to change...and...and be a better, nicer...sister,” she added with sudden inspiration, “but I can’t do it overnight, and I can’t do it without a little understanding...and help...from you.”
She was astonished at the transformation her words had upon Hetty. Immediately, her sister turned and swept Araminta into a fierce hug.
“Oh, Araminta, you truly mean that? Why, I think it’s motherhood that’s changing you. You say you hate breeding, but the truth is that it’s making you a softer, better person, just as you say. Don’t fight it. You can put the past behind you, but you can’t do it without compromises, and you mustn’t risk your health or Debenham’s temper. Now that you see the error of your ways, I truly believe you can look forward to a much more rewarding future.”
Araminta didn’t like the reference to being guilty of any error. The only reason she was in such an unhappy predicament was because of Lord Ludbridge’s error in leaving her at such an inconvenient time, and evil Debenham’s calculated ploy to trick her into becoming his wife. Yet, it seemed best not to go over this once more since Hetty had gone from quite prickly to remarkably pliable in such a short time, and Araminta needed her sister’s good offices if she were to get what she wanted, and to find the happiness she deserved. Well, tonight at any rate.
“So you’ll set an extra place for me at dinner?”
Hetty glanced doubtfully at Araminta’s mid region, her eyes widening as Araminta doubled up once more at another painful spasm. “Dearest, I think you’d be best staying at home tonight. You need to rest. You’re carrying two, and you’re very big. Debenham would be cross to hear you’d sought gaiety when you should be looking after his baby.”
“Debenham wouldn’t even know. He’ll return at dawn, totally in his cups, and collapse in his own apartments. I daresay he won’t even ask Jem to check with Jane that I’m not dead in the middle of the carpet in one of the rooms which those lazy servants don’t even bother to dust properly. I’ll probably be a skeleton by the time he remembers he has a wife.”
The thought of how poorly Debenham cared for her compared with the tender solicitude of passionate Lord Ludbridge, brought tears to her eyes and Hetty’s immediate sympathy.
“Yes, of course I’ll ensure an extra place is laid for you, but I’ll quite understand if you decide at the last minute that you’d rather have an early night.”
Ignoring the persistent tugs of pain that assailed her, Araminta farewelled her sister with a smile, mentally wondering which of her gowns would flatter her most in her hideous, bloated state. She might have shied away from seeing Lord Ludbridge if he’d given any sense of being disgusted when he’d sought her out in Debenham’s opera box. Instead, she knew she’d won him over with the tragedy of her story. His love for her was pure, and he was no longer prepared to believe those wicked lies about her. Besides, once Araminta was seated opposite him at the table, he’d focus his attention on her lovely face. No doubt he’d struggle to keep his eyes straying from her rather tremendous bosom. At least, that was one small compensation for her pregnancy...her magnificently enhanced bust.
By the time she was back home and seated at her dressing table, she was so excited by the possibilities the evening had in store that she could barely wait for Jane to answer her summons.
“Jane! Quickly! Help me to decide what to wear for dinner. No, I do not intend staying in tonight and don’t you start haranguing me, or I’ll think you as bad as Hetty, who only cares about appearances. You should know that once I make up my mind, there’s no way to change it.”
Chapter Eleven
Lord Silverton did not make it his habit to frequent the lower end of town, but he bolstered his reluctance with the knowledge that he had no choice if he was to be anyone’s savior tonight—and that’s what he was determined to be.
He pulled up the collar of his greatcoat, and pulled down the brim of his low-crowned beaver as he reached the front steps of the house he sought.
He did not like the idea of being recognized, and feared that his mission to Maggie Montgomery’s would be misunderstood for he had, in fact, never paid for sex. Never had to. He found his pleasures with willing women from various walks of life. He’d had liaisons with widows of his own class, forward misses from the serving classes and several times, an opera dancer. For some reason, women liked him.
He’d been sorry that pretty Miss Bunting had not returned his regard. She’d have made a very suitable wife, and he’d thought her sweet. But beyond his surprise that she had, in fact, chosen someone else when he’d made clear his intentions and had thought she returned his interest—and several days of feeling less than his usual ebullient self—he didn’t particularly care.
Now he was mounting the steps of Maggie Montgomery’s establishment, feeling suddenly sheepish. He was glad he’d gone unrecognized by the time the grated door had been opened, and a young girl greeted him and ushered him into the heavily-perfumed interior.
“I say, Silverton!”
