AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I…” Yet Penelope was not one for indulging in long speeches of what was in her heart. Violet usually had to tease it out of her.
“You can tell me anything. You know that, dearest.” Violet reached for her sister and took her hand off the embroidery, clasping her fingers in her own.
“I know.” Penelope lifted her head, revealing there were tears in her eyes.
“Oh, what is wrong? Is it Sir –”
“Please, do not say his name. It is something quite different that upsets me.”
“Pen, what is it?”
“I feel… Oh, it is all the time at the moment.” Penelope flung back her head dramatically. When she accidentally pricked herself with the needle, she cried out and lifted her finger to her lips, sucking on the blood. “Every morning,” she murmured once she lowered her hand again, “and this morning, it is far worse.”
“What is worse?” Violet leaned forward, feeling her worry begin to burn within her. “Goodness, what is wrong?”
“I feel so sick. All the time.” Penelope’s words were barely audible, they were so quiet. “Every day, it is like this gnawing sensation in my gut.” She gently placed down the embroidery beside her and rested a hand on her stomach. Her other hand was now clutching at Violet’s, as if it was the giver of life itself. “Violet… I fear…”
“Fear what?” Violet did not get an answer to her question, for Penelope had lifted both hands to her lips. There was an awful sound within her throat, one that forewarned what was about to happen.
Violet was on her feet within a second. There was no chance they could make it to a privy or a chamber pot in time. Instead, she dragged poor Penelope to the garden door and flung it open.
Beyond the door, late-blooming irises and poppies swayed in the breeze. Penelope pushed them all to the side and bent her head down as she began to retch in the grass.
Violet kicked the door shut behind them, not wanting Louise or anyone else in the house to discover what was happening just yet. Not until she knew the cause of this sickness.
Bending down to her knees, Violet held her sister’s hair and rubbed her back whilst she was sick, taking care of her.
“There, there. Let it out, Pen. All will be well again in a minute.” Violet made her tone soft. When Penelope finished and sat back, wrinkling her nose when she caught sight of what she had done, she offered a small smile to Violet.
“That is what our mother used to say. ‘All will be well again,’ she said that so much.”
“That she did.” Violet wouldn’t let herself grow sad at the mention of their mother. At this moment, she had other things to worry about.
Must I call a physician? Is this some passing sickness, or a bad filet of fish that has been ingested, or something else entirely?
“Penelope, we should take you upstairs so you can rest. As mother said, all will be well.”
“No, Violet, no, not this time.” Penelope’s words were rather wild. For one who was usually so quiet and softly spoken, it was starkly against her character. She pulled on Violet’s hands, not letting her leave just yet, and tugged her back down to her knees. She entwined their fingers together, latching onto Violet. “I fear I know what the cause of this sickness is, and it will not pass, not before everything becomes apparent.”
“Before what becomes apparent?” Violet asked. Penelope didn’t answer at first. The tears returned to her eyes, and she began to cry. The tears spilled quickly down her cheeks, running so fast that the drips hung off her chin. “Penelope, you are scaring me. Pray, tell me more before I go mad with worry.”
“I know what the sickness is.” Penelope spoke so quietly now that Violet had to lean forward to hear her. “It is not food poisoning, nor is it an illness that can be healed. Violet, it is of my own doing. Of mine and Sir Babington’s.”
Violet felt her body turn cold as she sat back on her knees. She prepared herself to hear the words, even before Penelope could utter them.
“Violet, I am with child.”
Chapter 2
Benedict, when I find you…
Sebastian’s thoughts trailed off. As the sun shone down heavily, making his palms clammy around his steed’s reins and his back hot beneath his tailcoat, he rode on. He drove the horse forward with a kind of wildness to him, picturing himself as feral as the animal beneath him, with hair loosened by wind and skin buffeted red.
When Sebastian reached Hyde Park, he didn’t bother turning the horse in through the open gate. He vaulted the fence instead. The horse managed it easily and passersby squealed, either with delight at how impressive such a feat was, or the shock of the horse traveling so fast.
Sebastian couldn’t stop a small smile creeping into his face. He rather liked the idea of ladies giving him a wide berth, and the fans that fluttered across their faces now and the gloved hands that were lifted to lips in shock thrilled him.
Yes, stay away from me! It is for your own good.
