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“Well? What is it? Have you contracted some sickness from London?” Margery asked in panic and jumped to her feet, walking toward Ophelia across the room.
“No, it is nothing like that.” Ophelia shook her head slowly. When she had started experiencing sickness a month ago, she had presumed it was the shock of hearing of Elliot’s betrayal. A month later, though, with the bouts of nausea still occasionally returning, she had to accept there was another reason.
I can scarcely believe what the doctor told me.
“Let us talk of something else.” Ophelia swallowed, glad the last nauseous sensation for the day has passed. “How are you, Margery?”
“Oh, you know me. I’m well enough.” She forced a smile before dropping down at Ophelia’s side. “I am simply worried for you.”
“There is no need to worry for me. I will be well.” Ophelia knew it was a lie.
Somehow, she had managed to escape seeing Elliot for this last month. She missed him, much more acutely than she had expected to, but she also knew it was for the best. Had she seen him again, she might have been persuaded by her love of him to go back to his home. But being with him would only bring her future heartbreak.
“Perhaps I should see if I could fetch you something to tempt you into eating.” Margery spoke with sudden alacrity and moved to her feet. “You have eaten so very little these last few days.”
“I do not need anything, I assure you.”
“Nonsense. All this nausea, you must have something to tempt you into eating. Perhaps some chocolates?” Margery said with excitement and looked to the window of the sitting room. “I will be back shortly. The chocolatier is not far from here.”
Ophelia sighed, happy to let her friend go. She didn’t doubt Margery was in need of some air after keeping her company all morning.
“Thank you, Margery.”
Margery left in a rush, leaving Ophelia alone in the long sitting room, bathed in the yellow sunlight that flooded in through the windows. She slumped into her chair, resting a hand on her stomach and thinking of what the doctor had said.
This changes things, does it not?
She wasn’t left for long with her thoughts. Seconds later, there was a knock on the door and the butler entered with someone behind him. Ophelia hurried to sit straight, feeling her jaw drop when she saw who her visitor was.
“Mrs Townsend to see you, Your Grace.”
“Gertrude?” Ophelia stuttered in surprise, standing to her feet. Gertrude waved the butler away with a dismissing jerk of her hand, then moved to Ophelia.
“Oh, at last, Ophelia. I have been so worried about you.” Gertrude embraced her. She was so shocked that she stood limply in her stepmother’s hold for a minute, struggling to return it.
“You were worried?” Ophelia whispered.
“How could I not have been?” Gertrude asked, stepping back and taking Ophelia’s hands. “Your letter last month has scarcely left my hand since its arrival. I have searched everywhere for you. Your friend’s home here was an idea I merely had yesterday. I am so glad to have found you at last.” She embraced Ophelia another time. On this occasion, Ophelia returned that hug. “How are you? Are you well?”
“I am… as well as to be expected.”
Ophelia did not want to put into words that she was actually doing very badly. Her heart regretted leaving Elliot, even as her head told her it was the wisest decision to avoid being hurt by him again.
“How are you?” Ophelia asked, stepping back from her stepmother and urging her to sit beside her on the settee.
“I have been better,” Gertrude confessed, leaning toward her. “Hearing of your heartbreak has changed much of my focus these days. Our argument seems like something of the past.” She patted Ophelia’s hand between them. “I have worried for you so, my dear.”
“You are kind,” Ophelia whispered to her. When Ophelia had sent her letter to Gertrude explaining what had happened, she had thought it a thing of necessity. Now, she was feeling guilty that she had not written to Gertrude again. “I should have written another time. I am sorry I did not.”
“Please, do not apologise for it. I perfectly understand.” Gertrude clasped her hand tightly. “My dear, I have been thinking of this hard, and I have come to a conclusion that may be difficult to hear—but I want you to know I come with this suggestion out of a wish to do what is right for you.”
“Very well, what is the suggestion?” Ophelia asked, aware of the eagerness with which Gertrude was trying to be of use to her now.
“You and your husband. Something must be done,” Gertrude whispered, glancing to the door behind her, clearly nervous of staff entering who could overhear her. “Have you considered an annulment?”
Ophelia’s mouth was suddenly dry. With difficulty, she swallowed around that dryness before she spoke.
“I have considered it, yet I am afraid it is not something that is now feasible.”
