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"It was mine before it was ever yours,” the dowager retorted and Jenny rolled her eyes, immediately regretting the action because it intensified her headache. “You don’t look well,” she added, placing her hands on her hips and watching Jenny through narrowed eyes.
Jenny swung her legs over the side of the bed and touched them to the carpeted floor. However, when she tried to gain her feet, she was suddenly overcome by a wave of vertigo that saw her falling back onto the mattress.
"Look at you! You are woozy." The dowager stepped closer to the bed and asked, "When last did you see your courses?"
"What business is it of yours?" Jenny snapped. She took hold of the bedpost for some support and tried to stand but the spinning in her head was not subsiding. Thus, she leaned back and closed her eyes as she realized the futility of forcing her body to do what it did not want to do.
"It is my business since the continuity of my line now rests upon your shoulders," the dowager said.
"Fine," Jenny grumbled. She did not have the energy to argue with the Dowager. Not this morning. "Nip whatever hope that is budding in your chest. I saw them not two weeks past."
The dowager’s eyes narrowed dubiously. "I don't believe you."
"Suit yourself." Jenny thought she would need to use the chamber pot soon.
Sooner than she had expected because her stomach churned violently, and of its own volition now, her body moved, carrying her to the chamber pot where she cast up her accounts. She felt considerably better after that. It was as though the alcohol had left her system and taken some of her pain with it.
She took her time to wash her face and clean her teeth before going out to meet the dowager. She was waiting for her with her hands on her hips and a wide grin on her face. “Lie to me all you want, girl but there is no disputing what I just saw. You are with child!”
Jenny laughed despite herself. Unless Nicholas had taken her in her sleep some time ago, which she could swear he had not—the man had done all he could to avoid bedding her—she was certain she was not with child. And only one woman ever got with child without a man.
“What is funny?” the dowager asked dubiously.
“I had my courses recently. I amnotexpecting,” Jenny said, walking to the bell pull to summon Sarah.
“Well, that is unfortunate.” The dowager looked positively disappointed.
“Unfortunate, indeed.”
"I will have you know that I had an heir and a spare at once on my first try," the dowager declared pompously.
Jenny’s tolerance of the old crone was wearing very, very thin. She swiveled round to face her. "Oh, really? What happened after that? Did you get two more spares on your second try?”
"I…” the woman was flustered, much to Jenny’s satisfaction. “Well, there was no need for more."
More like you never were able to have more, Jenny thought.
In a different circumstance, Jenny would have cheered at having the upper hand here, but right then, she was neither in the mood nor in possession of the energy for it. She was worried about her husband, his tenants, and their marriage.
"I am here for my portrait," the dowager shamelessly tried to change the subject now. "The painter is already here. I shall be downstairs. Do join me as soon as you can." She walked to the door then paused and turned. “Where is Nicholas?”
Jenny laughed again for some strange reason. “I thought you had eyes and ears everywhere.”
The old woman “I did not ask. Where is he?”
“There was a fire at Heartsbay. He left before dawn.”
“How unfortunate.” There was no expression of concern on the dowager’s face.
“You seem unconcerned.”
“Oh, I am. Stoicism is one of my best qualities. A good duchess must be stoic.”
“I see.” Sarah arrived not long after the dowager had left and Jenny requested some mint tea to help with the after-effects of her drinking. Instead of tea, Mrs. Wells sent Sarah up with a horrid concoction that smelled like a swamp.
Jenny downed it without complaint. After a warm bath with some citrus oil, her body felt somewhat rejuvenated but her mood remained unchanged. She wrote a note and asked Sarah to deliver it immediately to Daphne before making her way to her laboratory, ignoring the dowager’s request for her presence. Perhaps her rocks could succeed in accomplishing what the bath had failed to. They had always occupied her enough for her to forget her troubles.
Her note to Daphne was an invitation asking her to call if she could that afternoon. Jenny desired better company. There was no telling how long the dowager would be around. Mrs. Wells came into the laboratory, bearing a tray with the breakfast Jenny had skipped.
“You must eat something, Your Grace. It will help you feel better,” the kind housekeeper insisted. “You will feel good as new once you eat.” She set the tray down and left Jenny.
She was only able to stomach half a toast and some tea, and still did not feel better. Barely an hour later, Bentley announced Daphne, then handed Jenny a letter with plain sealing wax and nothing else to identify its origin.
