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“Then we must do as well as we can.”
“Yes. But I did get something.” Scarlett unwrapped the bowl to reveal a small crystalline block surrounded by a small pool of water. “I stopped over at the Sheltons since they are up all hours. Mrs. Shelton gave me a bit of her ice block that hadn’t yet melted. It may help cool the wee one’s fever.”
Nora thought she might collapse in gratitude. “It cannot hurt. Thank you, Scarlett.”
“Ah, I’ve told you I love you and the babe like my own kin. What else would I be doing at a time like this, if not offering whatever help I could?” Scarlett offered a weary smile that had worry blunting the edges. “I’ll get fresh cloths, and we’ll see what we can do for the poor babe.”
Nora nodded and stroked sweaty hair from Lydia’s face, biting her lip on the tears that wanted to fall.
The physicians would have come for the Duchess of Bedford’s child, bastard or no. But for the child of an unmarried maid, they could not be bothered to rouse.
The injustice of it, the callousness, burned in the back of her mind, even as Scarlett returned with the cloths, and the two of them set to work attempting to cool Lydia’s fevered skin.
How could it be right that any child should go through such things, and all for the manner of her conception?
* * *
Arthur paced another circuit of the drawing room, his thoughts in disarray as he moved back and forth over the lush carpeting.
His cravat had long since been discarded, along with his jacket and his waistcoat. He’d found a bottle of brandy and opened it to soothe his nerves. The brandy was half gone and fogging his thoughts like cotton, but his nerves were in no way soothed.
Hours had passed, marching first toward midnight, then toward dawn, and still, Nora had not returned. Had not even sent word as to how matters stood and whether she would be returning any time soon.
Why? Why had she not even sent a message back?
Unless... unless Ralph was right. It hurt to think, burned like fire to even consider, but the secrecy, the refusal to speak more of her family, the odd discrepancies in her answers, and the furtiveness of her manner… what could it mean but that Nora was with another man?
He wanted to reject the idea, but it refused to leave him be. His mind kept conjuring up images of her.
Nora, unabashed as she faced him down, and he in just a towel.
Nora and her strong, responsive kisses.
Nora, coming apart around his fingers. And the words she’d spoken after.‘I am no innocent maid of the ton... you need no pretty words with me…’
How else was he to take it but she had another who could see to her needs?
Did she perhaps distrust thetonbecause she was another man’s mistress?
It was far from the most implausible scenario. Nora was young, she was pretty, and she was not at all lacking in personality. Why should she not have another lover? It was not uncommon among maids. Dalliances with the titled and a proper, rough-handed working man to go home to.
And the way she had changed her mind regarding his suit. He had been too pleased to question it despite the objections of his friends. But…
She had gone from almost loathing him to agreeing to wed him in a single night. Was it really so unlikely that she and her lover had spoken of it and agreed that she should wed him for the title and the riches while keeping her lover, and perhaps their children, on the side?
It had happened before, he knew. Maids seducing their masters, only to turn faithless and disappear when they had what they wanted.
Had she ever really intended to resist him, or had it all been a ploy to gain his attention? A clever trick to win his affections while playing the part of reluctant maid so that no blame might fall upon her when she fled him?
He did not want to think it, to even consider the possibility. And yet, it all fit too well.
Everything that was unexplained, everything that had puzzled him regarding her manner and her behavior... it all made sense if Ralph had the right of it. Far too much sense.
The words chased themselves around his mind, burning and searing his thoughts like a brand.
A knock shattered his bleak thoughts. He blinked, noting the tinge of dawn light through the window. The night was gone, and still…
Another knock. He cleared his throat. “Enter.”
