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She looked at him in bleak question. “I am not confirming that I am, my lord. I merely saying I might be and wondering what if I…”
His expression closed. “I was never the type of gentleman that dealt in what-ifs. I do not like to suppose or waste time speculating about something that might not happen. We will wait and see, and then we will deal with whatever the outcome is.”
Suddenly the burn of bright passion and the sweetness that had lingered, receded, and Lucinda felt cold. “I see.”
Lucinda reached for a glass of sherry with shaking fingers. Quickly consuming the liquid, she reached for the decanter herself and refilled her glass for a second time.
“Why are you afraid, Lucinda, when nothing has been confirmed?”
“I am not afraid.” Yet she was and could not understand why her belly churned in such a frightful manner. That she could feel this uncertainty filled her with anger, and she ate what little she could in silence.
That evening when they came together, it was with fiery desperation she had not felt since they started their affair. Lucinda was demanding, wanting his roughness instead of his tenderness. Though he granted her wish, riding her roughly until she climaxed several times, he restrained his pleasure, licking and nibbling her entire body slowly until she unraveled with sobs. Only then did he chase his release and afterward held her against his chest as they slept for the night.
The following day, they did not mention the possibility of her being with child. However, she noted that he was adamant they did not ride together as they had been doing for several days. Instead, Alexander took her out on the lake, and she read fromThe Midnight Bell.
A few days later, she borrowed his carriage to visit her parents. Once there, she took the opportunity to have the local physician call upon her. After a quick but thorough examination of her body, he lowered the sheet and cleared his throat. Lucinda sat up, lowering her feet to the ground.
“Congratulations, Lady Darby, you are with child.”
A loud roaring began in her head. “Are you certain, Dr. Bellamy?”
His kind face creased into a smile, and he pushed his spectacles up on his nose. “I am, my lady.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
He made his way from her parent’s cottage, and she sat in the drawing room for a long time, staring at the wild roses in her mother’s garden. Lucinda called for writing items, took a deep breath, and began writing a letter to Alexander.
The letter took several attempts to write because tears kept smudging the words on the paper and Lucinda was forced to crumple up earlier efforts, before pulling herself together and managing to cease crying long enough to finish what she needed to say. She had not lied, that was the main thing and if he assumed that she had been mistaken in believing that she was pregnant, then that was for the best.
She would not force another unwilling man to marry her purely to satisfy society’s edicts and then marry to save his honor rather than because they were both totally hopelessly in love with each other. Alexander would feel obliged to offer her marriage but had no real desire to be married, she would not be responsible for tying him down to a wife he would not truly love.
She could not bear for the beauty of what they had to become tarnished by recrimination and bitter words.
That would be unbearable.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Lucinda did not return to Hawthorne Hall but sent back Alexander’s carriage, took her parents’ equipage and returned to town. She had entrusted the letter she had written with great care to the footman he had sent with her for protection. Surely he would have gotten it by now and realized that she had ended their affair while no bitterness lingered between them. She had not anticipated how that decision would kill a part of her and fill her heart with wrenching loss.
Seated on a sofa at the club, her feet curled beneath her shins, Lucinda took a shuddering breath, feeling empty and ravaged. She had lost the man she had fallen so deeply in love with, and now she was alone with a babe in her belly and unmarried.
The world could be cruel to unmarried mothers, and she closed her eyes in despair. They had been so careful. How had it happened?
It matters not, a small voice whispered. Lucinda swiped the tears from her face. This was not a curse but a blessing. Resting her hand on her belly, she smiled through the wash of tears.A child. One who would grow up without a father but would be well-loved and provided for. Her parents loved her and would not condemn Lucinda for her choices; this much she was assured of. She had enough wealth to raise her child properly and provide a good education and inheritance when he or she was of age. She would have to go away, assume widowhood, and have her child in secret and in peace. Thankfully she was mature and experienced enough of the world where this would not be questioned.
Theo entered, smiling gaily, only to falter when she saw Lucinda’s tears. “Agatha told me you were back. What happened?”
“I am with child,” she said hoarsely.
“Oh, Lucinda, this is wonderful, is it not? What did Chisholm say?”
“I cannot…I cannot tell him of this. From the beginning of our…affair, I knew he was not a man who wanted any sort of permanency. What use would be there for me to inform him of this matter? So he might reject me and shred my heart to pieces that I might never be able to put together again?”
Theo stared at her, her gaze heavy with compassion and support. “I can see the pain and resolution in your expression.”
Lucinda walked over to the fire, needing its heat to soothe the cold that wrapped its arms around her body. “I love him, Theo,” she said in a choked whisper. “So very much.”
“Oh, Lucinda!” Theo cried, rushing to her side. “I would implore you then to tell the earl. Perhaps he would be happy that you are with child and make you an offer.”
