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The older woman raised a hand to stall Perdie’s rant. “Not him. I meant Lord Sherburn.”
Perdie had thought that impromptu proposal had been kept between herself and her brother. Certainly, her mother hadn’t mentioned it as an option. But Seb had somebody to confide in now, and it was clear he trusted Theo with their family secrets.
Perdie licked her lips. “You didn’t remarry.”
“Not until recently,” Lady Theo answered, but there was the tilt of amusement to her mouth. She toyed with a lock of her hair, free of its pins and curling around her shoulders. “I had my reasons.”
“You like your independence.”
The older woman inclined her head. “That was one of them. But not all marriages are prisons. Some are happy arrangements, if the two of you share a common vision of the future and are clear on what that future would entail. If you’re friends as well as lovers.”
Perdie bit her lip. That advice was what she had tried to enact with Lord Owen, only to have him tear that proverbial future to shreds in front of her eyes. Thaddeus had offered her what she wanted, at least what she’d told Lord Owen she wanted. All except for the matter of children—as an earl, he would need an heir, and she was still too young. Too terrified.
She placed a hand over her queasy stomach and tried not to think of the possibility of life growing within her. Without meeting Lady Theo’s eyes, she whispered, “I’m still frightened of having children. The thought of marrying and becoming pregnant petrifies me. I cannot explain why it scares me so.”
The other woman was silent for a moment before saying slowly, “There are certain precautions you could take to avoid pregnancy.”
Perdie lifted her head. “Precautions?”
Lady Theo nodded. “I know several married couples who use them to prevent children or to prevent more children. These methods aren’t perfect, but they reduce the chance greatly.”
For a moment, Perdie had hope. Then she removed her hand from her stomach as she recalled Thaddeus’s words. His warning.
“I wish I’d known that—” she swallowed, shut her eyes, and admitted, “I may already be with child. Please don’t tell my brother.”
Her voice was tremulous. Pleading.
The rustle of fabric was all the warning she got before Theo crossed to perch on the arm of the chair where Perdie sat. As she enveloped Perdie in her arms, she felt so warm, so solid, that Perdie felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes. She sniffed, trying to cover the crack in her armor.
Lady Theo asked, “Are you certain?”
“No. It’s just…a possibility.”
The older woman squeezed her tight. “And if it is so, we will address it then. We won’t leave you to face this alone.”
Perdie didn’t have to ask who the we was in this situation. Theo likely meant she and Sebastian. But Perdie couldn’t help but think of all of the women of the club, all of her friends who accepted her for who she was and would accept her even if she made mistakes.
She swallowed and nodded.
When Lady Theo pulled away to look into Perdie’s eyes, her expression was one of concern again. “Is it…. Would it be Lord Sherburn’s?”
At least she hadn’t done Perdie the disservice of asking whether or not it would be Lord Owen’s child. Perdie nodded, but didn’t speak.
Lady Theo offered her hand. “Come. The others are concerned. They’d like to see you’re all right.”
Perdie took Lady Theo’s hand, even though her voice had fled.
When Lady Theo tugged her into the drawing room downstairs, the ladies immediately swarmed her. Lady Prue elbowed her friend aside to supplant herself in Lady Theo’s place. She squeezed Perdie’s shoulders and said, “Who needs an earl anyway?”
Lady Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You have an earl.”
Lady Prue lifted her chin, a bulwark in the face of censure. “That’s how I know. You can count me as an authority on such matters. You don’t need him, Lady Perdie. You have us.”
Perdie gave a watery laugh and felt something in her chest loosen. She may not be all right at the moment, but she would be, as long as she had her friends.
