My Fair Mistress (31 page)

Ripping the page out of the paper, he squeezed the article into a ball.

And if she were planning to marry Summersfield, what was he going to do about it?

Nothing,
he realized as he let the wadded paper roll onto his desk.
Absolutely nothing at all.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Striving for quiet, Julianna blew her nose into her silk handkerchief, then blotted the tears from her eyes.

I never cry at weddings,
she bemoaned, feeling ridiculous at having wept her way through all but the first two minutes of the ceremony. Another tear leaked out as Maris and Major Waring—
William,
she corrected herself, now that he was her brother-in-law—exchanged their first kiss as a married couple.

Julianna wiped fresh moisture from her face as congratulatory clapping erupted from the assembled guests—several of William’s military cronies, highly visible in their scarlet dress uniforms, shouting out enthusiastic huzzahs.

Arm in arm, Maris and William started back down the aisle of the parish church, friends and family already assembling outside to wish them on their way. At the entrance, more of William’s army friends had gathered, sabers drawn and raised into an arch of honor for the newlyweds to pass beneath.

Laughing, Maris and William ran under the swords and out to the waiting carriage, the vehicle decorated with streaming white ribbons, sprays of fresh yellow hollyhocks, and puffy white hydrangea blossoms. The couple would ride to Davies Manor, where the reception was to take place, everyone else left to follow.

Julianna blew her nose one more time as she exited the church, relieved to have finally stopped crying. She didn’t know why but she’d been feeling rather emotional lately, and weary as well.

All the work,
she supposed.

The past two months had been a constant whirlwind of activity, the wedding preparations taking up every spare minute of the day. And over the last three days there’d been a convergence of family and friends upon the estate as everyone arrived for the wedding. The manor’s twenty-five bedrooms were all in use, a few guests—friends of the major—thankfully agreeing to lodge at an inn in the nearby village.

Smothering a yawn, she located Harry and made her way to their coach. Settling back against the seat, she fought off a wave of tiredness, wishing when they arrived home that she might sneak upstairs for a nap. But as a member of the wedding party, she was required to be in the receiving line. Once that duty was finished, though, she decided, she just might excuse herself for half an hour.

Surely I will not be missed for so short a time?
she mused.

Lately she’d been doing that a lot. Stealing off in the middle of the day to rest, so exhausted sometimes she could barely keep her eyes open even though she’d gotten a full night’s sleep the evening before.

Yesterday, in fact, she’d embarrassed herself by drifting off for a few minutes during tea while Maris and Maris’s new mother-in-law discussed plans for redecorating the newlyweds’ new house in Wiltshire. Cousin Henrietta had touched Julianna kindly on the shoulder, startling her awake before the rest of the assembled guests could take note of her lapse.

Once everyone left tomorrow, she knew the house would calm down, and she would be able to relax and start feeling like herself again.
All I have to do,
she assured herself,
is get through the remainder of the day.

The receiving line went well. Then came the reception breakfast, where she picked at her food, slightly nauseated by the scents and sounds of too many people crowded together. Light perspiration dampened her skin, the late summer day far warmer than anyone had anticipated it would be. In response, she ordered the servants to open a few windows to let in a cooling breeze, but the additional air seemed to make little difference.

Flushed and overwarm, she fanned herself while a series of toasts were given. Maris and William laughed at the good-natured ribbing they received from friends and family, the newlyweds’ faces both wreathed in smiles at the bounty of warm wishes they received for their future health and happiness together.

Then the time arrived to cut the cake and toss the bouquet.

Afterward, Maris excused herself to change into a traveling dress for her wedding trip. Julianna came into the room to share a few last words and a warm hug, overjoyed to see how profoundly happy her little sister was. She started crying again, then Maris followed suit, making both of them laugh.

Far too soon, Maris was ready to leave.

In that moment, Julianna felt like a mother bird sending her fledgling chick out into the world. She knew Maris would be fine. She knew she would fly. But she would miss her nonetheless.

Of course she never managed to slip away for the nap she’d promised herself. Bone weary, she made her way downstairs and outside to wave the happy couple off on their journey north. The landau pulled away, wheels crunching on the drive, horse harnesses jingling.

As soon as the coach moved out of sight, she swung around to return to the house. A buzzing hummed in her ears like a thousand bees, and suddenly the world began to whirl. Swaying on her feet, she reached out and tried to catch hold of Harry’s coat sleeve, but he was too far away.

Then she was falling, crumpling toward the ground amid a flurry of exclamations from several guests.

Her mind went black.

A sharp, stinging whiff of ammonia brought her awake, the foul concoction making her cough and setting her eyes to water. Turning her head, she blinked against her distress, recognizing as she did the familiar flocked wallpaper of her bedroom.

As full awareness returned, she realized she was lying in her own bed with her gown loosened and her maid hovering anxiously. At the foot of the bed stood her brother, his brows drawn tight with concern.

“She’s coming around now, my lord,” Daisy murmured. “The doctor will be here soon.”

“Doctor?” Julianna protested.

Everyone in the family knew how she despised doctors and had done since she’d been a child. She avoided them at all costs, even when she was ill.

“Yes, doctor,” Harry said in a gruff tone. “And I will not have you refusing to see him.”

“I am fine,” she groaned. “Just tired.”

“You fainted. You’re more than just tried. Perhaps you’re coming down with a relapse of the illness that kept you in bed a couple of months ago. Remember when you were sick in London?”

Of course she remembered; she wasn’t likely to forget. Not a day went by that she didn’t think of Rafe, didn’t miss him with an empty, wrenching ache. But a broken heart had not made her faint.

Something had, though.

Too weak and miserable to argue further, she closed her eyes and waited for the dreaded physician to arrive.

Thankfully, Harry had the grace to depart soon after the doctor entered the room.

To her vast relief, she saw he was not the same old man who used to come to the house when she was a child. The grizzled quack who had drained half her mother’s blood into a basin, then stood around shaking his head in hopelessness as she grew weaker and weaker. Julianna would never forget the horror and pain of that day, nor the grief she’d experienced as her mother, and the infant her mother had labored to bring into the world, died only hours apart.

The new man introduced himself as Dr. Coles, his pale blue eyes kind as he opened his bag and took out a few instruments.

She relaxed slightly when she saw none of the familiar tools used for bleeding or hot cupping. For a moment, a refusal hovered on her tongue as he moved near to begin, but she swallowed her protest as another wave of exhaustion swept through her.

He conducted his examination with gentle consideration, his hands as well as his words calm and friendly. Finishing a few minutes later, he began to repack his medical bag.

“Well, what do you think?” she inquired, sitting up against the pillows. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he replied with a smile. “At least nothing that is not fully to be expected in your condition.”

“My condition? What do you mean?”

“I mean felicitations are in order, Lady Hawthorne. You are with child.”

Chapter Seventeen

J
ULIANNA STARED AT the doctor for a long moment, certain she must have misunderstood him.

“P-Pardon me, but did you say
with child
?”

“Yes. Around three months along, I’d estimate from what you told me concerning your last menses.”

Breath rushed from her body, a twinge of her earlier dizziness returning, making her glad she was already lying down.

When he’d asked her about her menstrual cycles she’d never thought, never imagined, that anything other than stress and emotional fatigue could account for the ones she had missed. She’d hardly noticed when she’d skipped the first time. And as for the next, well, she’d been too busy, too exhausted, and too unhappy to worry over a little upset to her body’s natural rhythms.

Blood rushed into her cheeks, then drained out again just as quickly. “But it’s impossible!”

He raised a brow. “Not according to my examination. Have you and your husband been trying for a long time?”

She flushed again. Quite understandably, he assumed she was married. As a new member of the local community, he obviously didn’t realize Lord Allerton’s older sister was a widow.

Her heart gave an odd little squeeze. “I thought I was barren.”

“Well, you are not. The good Lord has finally granted you a child.”

“But I haven’t been at all sick to my stomach.”

He finished packing his bag, then fastening the leather strap. “Not all women are. You’re obviously one of the lucky ones. The tiredness you’ve been experiencing should pass shortly since you’re entering your second trimester. My recommendation is to get lots of rest, eat regular meals, and not push yourself too hard. Take an occasional walk so long as you aren’t feeling dizzy like you did today. Have a companion accompany you to make sure all is well. My guess is you fainted from being overly excited from today’s wedding festivities.”

A funny sensation settled in her chest, her fingers tingling with what she could only assume to be shock and excitement.

Dear heavens,
she thought,
I am going to have a baby. A baby!

Long ago, she’d given up the dream of a family and put aside hopes of ever holding her own child in her arms. She’d wept to think she could not conceive, a failure for which her husband had often upbraided her. But since she was pregnant, it could mean only one thing—the fault had been Basil’s. All these years of imagining herself to be barren when she hadn’t been at all.

Before she could stop herself, before she had time to let the distressing realities set in, she gave herself permission to be happy.

A baby. At long last, I am going to be a mother.

“Thank you, doctor,” she murmured, a tremulous smile breaking over her lips.

“You are very welcome. Now get some rest, my lady.”

“I will, and gladly.”

He gathered up his medical bag and started for the door.

“Oh, and doctor,” Julianna called out softly.

He paused and turned back.

“If you would, I’d prefer you didn’t mention this to anyone. I’d…um…I’d like to break the news myself.”

He nodded, smiling in obvious understanding. “Of course. What goes on between doctor and patient is completely private. I’ll leave the telling entirely up to you.”

Settling back against the pillows, she relaxed, her mind awhirl. Closing her eyes, she let her thoughts wander, sure she was far too restive for sleep. But not long after, she proved herself wrong and drifted off.

She slept for hours, missing the reception, which continued downstairs in merry abandon. Lost in deep dreams, she didn’t hear the music nor the occasional bursts of uproarious laughter that wound their way up the stairs.

Near dusk she finally roused.

Harry stopped in to check on her a short time later, along with Cousin Henrietta, who fluffed Julianna’s pillows and straightened her covers, all the while tsking and clucking in concern over her earlier dramatic collapse.