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Sir Herbert’s eyebrows rose. “Am I likely to doubt her, ma’am?”

Julia bit her lip. “I do not know, but it is an eventuality I wish to guard against. The situation is distressing enough as it is. I refuse to have any more anguish added to it.” She shifted in her seat as if to rearrange her skirts. There was nothing comfortable in her bearing. Then suddenly she plunged on. “My sister is with child….”

Sir Herbert’s face tightened. Apparently he had noted that she had been introduced as an unmarried woman.

“I am sorry,” he said briefly, his disapproval unmistakable.

Marianne flushed hotly and Julia’s eyes glittered with fury.

“She was raped.” She used the word deliberately, with all its violence and crudeness, refusing any euphemism. “She is with child as a result of it.” She stopped, her breath choking in her throat.

“Indeed,” Sir Herbert said with neither skepticism nor pity in his face. He gave no indication whether he believed her or not.

Julia took his lack of horror or sympathy as disbelief.

“If you need proof of it, Sir Herbert,” she said icily, “I shall call upon th

e private inquiry agent who conducted the investigation, and he will confirm what I say.”

“You did not report the matter to the police?” Again Sir Herbert’s fine pale eyebrows rose. “It is a very serious crime, Mrs. Penrose. One of the most heinous.”

Julia’s face was ashen. “I am aware of that. It is also one in which the victim may be as seriously punished as the offender, both by public opinion and by having to relive the experience for the courts and for the judiciary, to be stared at and speculated over by everyone with the price of a newspaper in his pocket!” She drew in her breath; her hands, in front of her, were shaking. “Would you subject your wife or daughter to such an ordeal, sir? And do not tell me they would not find themselves in such a position. My sister was in her own garden, painting in the summerhouse, quite alone, when she was molested by someone she had every cause to trust.”

“The more so is it a crime, my dear lady,” Sir Herbert replied gravely. “To abuse trust is more despicable than simply to enact a violence upon a stranger.”

Julia was white. Standing in the alcove, Hester was afraid she was going to faint. She moved to intervene, to offer a glass of water, or even some physical support, and suddenly Sir Herbert glanced at her and motioned her to remain where she was.

“I am aware of the enormity of it, Sir Herbert,” she said so quietly that he leaned forward, screwing up his eyes, in his concentration. “It is my husband who committed the offense. You must surely appreciate why I do not wish to bring the police into the matter. And my sister is sensible of my feelings, for which I am profoundly grateful. She is also aware that it would do no good. He would naturally deny it. But even if it could be proved, which it cannot, we are both dependent upon him. We should all be ruined, to no purpose.”

“You have my sympathies, ma’am,” he said with more gentleness. “It is a truly tragic situation. But I fail to see how I can be of any assistance to you. To be with child is not an illness. Your regular physician will give you all the aid that you require, and a midwife will attend you during your confinement.”

Marianne spoke for the first time, her voice low and clear. “I do not wish to bear the child, Sir Herbert. It is conceived as a result of an event which I shall spend the rest of my life trying to forget. And its birth would ruin us all.”

“I well understand your situation, Miss Gillespie.” He sat back in his chair, looking at her gravely. “But I am afraid that it is not a matter in which you have a choice. Once a child is conceived, there is no other course except to await its birth.” The ghost of a smile touched his neat mouth. “I sympathize with you profoundly, but all I can suggest is that you counsel with your parson and gain what comfort you may from him.”

Marianne blinked, her face painfully hot, her eyes downcast.

“Of course there is an alternative,” Julia said hastily. “There is abortion.”

“My dear lady, your sister appears to be a healthy young woman. There is no question of her life being in jeopardy, and indeed no reason to suppose she will not deliver a fine child in due course.” He folded his fine sensitive hands. “I could not possibly perform an abortion. It would be a criminal act, as perhaps you are not aware?”

“The rape was a criminal act!” Julia protested desperately, leaning far forward, her hands, white-knuckled, on the edge of his desk.

“You have already explained very clearly why you have brought no charge regarding that,” Sir Herbert said patiently. “But it has no bearing upon my situation with regard to performing an abortion.” He shook his head. “I am sorry, but it is not something I can do. You are asking me to commit a crime. I can recommend an excellent and discreet physician, and will be happy to do so. He is in Bath, so you may stay away from London and your acquaintances for the next few months. He will also find a place for the child, should you wish to have it adopted, which no doubt you will. Unless …?” He turned to Julia. “Could you make room for it in your family, Mrs. Penrose? Or would the cause of its conception be a permanent distress to you?”

Julia swallowed hard and opened her mouth, but before she could reply, Marianne cut across her.

“I do not wish to bear the child,” she said, her voice rising sharply in something like panic. “I don’t care how discreet the physician is, or how easily he could place it afterwards. Can’t you understand? The whole event was a nightmare! I want to forget it, not live with it as a constant reminder every day!”

“I wish I could offer you a way of escape,” Sir Herbert said again, his expression pained. “But I cannot. How long ago did this happen?”

“Three weeks and five days,” Marianne answered immediately.

“Three weeks?” Sir Herbert said incredulously, his eyebrows high. “But my dear girl, you cannot possibly know that you are with child! There will be no quickening for another three or four months at the very earliest. I should go home and cease to worry.”

“I am with child!” Marianne said with hard, very suppressed fury. “The midwife said so, and she is never wrong. She can tell merely by looking at a woman’s face, without any of the other signs.” Her own expression set in anger and pain, and she stared at him defiantly.

He sighed. “Possibly. But it does not alter the case. The law is very plain. There used to be a distinction between aborting a fetus before it had quickened and after, but that has now been done away with. It is all the same.” He sounded weary, as if he had said all this before. “And of course it used to be a hanging offense. Now it is merely a matter of ruin and imprisonment. But whatever the punishment, Miss Gillespie, it is a crime I am not prepared to commit, however tragic the circumstances. I am truly sorry.”

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