Louis reared back, clearly shocked by her harsh language. “No, of course not,” he mumbled. “I guess I didn’t think at all.”
“Neither did I, which is precisely how I got into this position in the first place.”
Both fell silent, the only sound coming from the nearby brook and the breeze through the trees. Chloe’s heart ached painfully. She’d never imagined this when she’d thought about what she wanted her life to be like. She had wanted to marry quietly, have a brood of children with her husband, and grow old with him. Now, here she stood, pregnant out of wedlock, facing a proposal from a man she didn’t love, but a man could offer things she needed for herself and the baby, nonetheless.
Good Lord, what was she to do?
***
Chloe and Gracie were setting the table for dinner when the sound of a horse and carriage penetrated the walls of the cottage. For a fleeting moment, Chloe thought it might be Andrew, come back to tell her how wrong she’d been to send him away. She imagined a tearful reunion and a joyful Andrew when she told him she carried his child. It was the same daydream she had every time a carriage rolled by their little house.
However, nothing could have prepared her for the sight she saw when she opened the door. Lizzie, in all her London finery, stepped cautiously from a black traveling coach, followed by a woman who looked to be at least eighty-five. She almost giggled, thinking how angry Lizzie must have been when Chloe abandoned her post as chaperone. But she was far too dumbfounded to muster a laugh just then.
Why on earth had Lizzie come to see them? She thought for a moment that perhaps she’d found out about her and Andrew, but when Lizzie graced her with a wide smile, Chloe knew that could not be the case.
“Chloe, darling!” she said, running toward her, arms wide open.
“Lizzie, what are you doing here?” Chloe returned her cousin’s embrace. She had bathed in Chloe's favorite verbena bath salts that morning, and it made Chloe long for her luxurious days in London. She put the thoughts aside, though, and pulled away, still very confused.
“You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you, and I was devastated when I received your letter! How can you not be present at my wedding, Chloe?”
Chloe was saved from having to answer her cousin just then by the arrival of her sisters and brothers. They all exchanged hugs and greetings and then bustled inside where Chloe’s parents waited. Both seemed a little stunned to see Lizzie at first, but quickly lapsed into excitement at her arrival.
They all sat down to dinner together and listened as Lizzie droned on about London, the wedding, and of course, Lord Andrew. How attentive he’d been in the last few weeks. How doting he was towards her and how much she adored his family.
“He’s really been quite devoted,” she announced. “And I daresay he’s enjoying the wedding planning. Can you imagine? I never did, that is for sure, but he’s been especially adamant about the flowers. I wanted to do a simple bouquet of forget-me-nots and lilies, but he was insistent that there be no forget-me-nots. Seems he detests the flowers for some reason.”
Chloe looked up at her cousin, her heart racing. No forget-me-nots? What did that mean? Did he truly detest the flower now because of what she’d done? Or was it just too painful? Did he miss her and pine for her as she did him?
And then, just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she caught the expressions on the faces of her family members. Oh, good heavens. They all gaped at her, clearly stunned, but said nothing.
“And of course all his female relations have insisted on helping me to fill my wedding trousseau. It has been quite exhausting—well, you remember, Chloe—it’s as if their concept of time flies right out the window when they’re shopping! Which reminds me, I’ve brought your dresses. They arrived ages ago and I contemplated sending them, but decided I would rather pay a visit to my favorite cousin.”
Chloe wasn’t sure if it was Lizzie’s rambling on about Andrew and his family, or the baby she carried, or the fact that the rest of her family had figured out her indiscretion, but she suddenly grew very nauseous. And when her mother scooped a generous helping of roast onto her plate, she nearly lost all accounts of her stomach. She barely managed to excuse herself before running out the front door of the cottage and burying her face in the bushes at the side of the house.
“Chloe?” Her mother was at her side, patting her gently on the back while she continued to toss up her accounts.
“I’m fine,” she whispered as tears stung at her eyes.
“You’re not fine, love,” her mother corrected. “Let’s put you in bed and I’ll make sure Lizzie doesn’t mention another word about him tonight.”
At this, the dam broke and Chloe’s tears began to flow uncontrollably. How sweet her mother was to try to protect her so. But she couldn’t keep Lizzie from talking for the duration of her visit, and she certainly couldn’t tell her not to speak of Andrew without raising suspicion.
No, Chloe knew what she had to do. It wouldn’t lessen the pain of watching him marry her cousin, but at least she could move on with her life.
Or appear to, anyhow.
“Mama,” she said quietly. “Louis has asked me to marry him...and I have decided to accept his offer.
Twenty-Three
“Oh, my darling, are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“I am certain, mama,” she replied, choking back more tears. “I have no choice. I want my baby to have a father. Clearly, Andrew cannot fulfill that position.”
“Don’t you think you should tell him? Give him the chance?”
“And what do you think he will do, mama? Ruin Lizzie—the woman he is to marry—a woman that clearly he is in love with.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You heard her,” she replied, her voice breaking. “He’s been attentive and...but none of that matters,” Chloe continued. “They are to be married in a week.”
“What about Louis?”
“What about him?”
“Does he know?”
Chloe nodded and hung her head. Poor Louis. She knew he’d always loved her, always wanted to be with her, but she never loved him. She knew she never would. But he was kind and generous, and she had no doubt he’d be a fine father.
Her mother pulled her into a warm embrace. The familiar smell of her comforted Chloe, like warm soup on a cold day. She cried into her shoulder, wishing she didn’t have to go back inside. Wishing she didn’t have to face her cousin again. Or her family. What would her sister think of her now that she’d figured out her Andrew was in fact Lizzie’s Lord Andrew? She wished she didn’t have to marry a man she didn’t love. She wished she wasn’t about to lose the man she did love to another woman.
Eventually, her mother pulled away, leaving Chloe feeling cold and alone again. “We should go back inside, love,” she said warmly. “It’s starting to rain.”
***
Chloe, Lizzie and Gracie retired to the little room at the top of the stairs not long after nightfall. There was little space in the house, so the three girls would share a bed, small as it was. Chloe’s brothers had given up their bed to Lizzie’s chaperone and opted to sleep on makeshift cots downstairs.
Chloe shuddered at the thought. Lord knew what lurked on the floors of their cottage in the daylight, let alone in the dark.
“My goodness, I am utterly exhausted,” Lizzie sighed as she plopped onto the feather mattress to pull off her boots. “What a day this has been.”
Gracie and Chloe said nothing in response, but continued to undress. It wasn’t until Lizzie let out a loud gasp that the girls turned to acknowledge her.
“What is it?” Chloe asked and then noticed that Lizzie stared at her stomach.
Good Lord, was she already showing? It had not even been three whole months.
“Well, I don’t mean to pry, Chloe, dear, but how on earth have you gotten so plump?”
Plump? Chloe floundered for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I...I’
m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally said, trying to look affronted. “I’m the same size I’ve always been, am I not?”
“Heavens, no!” Lizzie exclaimed. “Look at your stomach.”
“I haven’t noticed anything different about Chloe,” Grace spoke up.
Chloe began to shake with nerves. Oh, good heavens, what was she going to say? Gracie didn’t know she was pregnant yet. She was hoping to keep it a secret as long as possible and she certainly didn’t want anyone to know the baby was Andrew’s. What a blasted tangled web this had become! She was getting dizzy trying to keep all her secrets and falsehoods in line.
“Well, that’s because you’re with her every day. I haven’t seen her in months…”
Lizzie’s mouth dropped open suddenly, and Chloe feared she had put two and two together. Her heart raced as Lizzie ran to her side and touched her stomach. Chloe knew it was hard with pregnancy, not soft with stuffing. She tried to pull back, but it was too late.
“Chloe Hawthorne, you’re pregnant!”
A stunned and awkward silence fell over the room. Good heavens, what was she supposed to say now? She looked to her sister for guidance, but Gracie’s expression was just as shocked as Chloe imagined her own was. How in the world had Lizzie figured it out so quickly?
Blast their small house!
“I am,” Chloe finally admitted, sticking her nose in the air.
She offered no further explanation but, of course, neither Lizzie nor Gracie would allow the conversation to end there.
“Chloe, how did you end up in this predicament?”
“It’s not a predicament,” Chloe snapped, suddenly angry that people saw her unborn child as an inconvenience already.
“But you have no husband. No prospects even! What are you going to do with a bastard child, Chloe?”
Before Chloe could stop herself, she’d swiped a palm across her cousin’s cheek with a loud slap. Gracie gasped. Chloe and Lizzie stood stunned, staring intently at one another.
“Don’t you ever refer to my child as a bastard again, Elizabeth Crawley,” Chloe said, her voice a dangerous whisper. She could even feel her nostrils flare with every angry breath she took.
Lizzie only nodded, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “I only meant to...well, I don’t know what I meant to do. I guess I’m just a little shocked is all.”
Chloe swallowed, feeling rather foolish for having slapped her cousin across the face. She had turned almost primal it seemed, in defense of her baby, but she couldn’t very well go about scratching people’s eyes out. After all, it wasn’t Lizzie’s fault that society was so unforgiving toward children without fathers.
And their wanton mothers.
“It is I who need forgiveness,” Chloe said, softening her tone. “I shouldn’t have slapped you like that.” She assessed her cousin’s cheek. A faint handprint appeared pink against Lizzie's snowy white skin. “Does it hurt?”
Lizzie shook her head as a small grin broke out on her lips. “You’re not that strong.”
They shared a strained giggle at her jibe, and the tension in the air subsided. Quickly, the three girls finished undressing, crawled into bed and snuffed out the candle. A chorus of goodnights ensued, followed by a long silence, until Lizzie spoke again.
“Are you sleeping, Clo?” she whispered.
“No,” Chloe answered. “And I daresay Gracie isn’t either.”
“Of course not.” Gracie turned toward Chloe and nuzzled against her shoulder.
“Will you tell me who he is?” Lizzie ventured.
“No, but I will tell you who I am going to marry.”
“Marry?” Gracie half sat up in the bed and Chloe could just make out the outlines of her astonished features. Perhaps she should have told Gracie first, about everything. What a horrible way for her own sister to find out all of this. “Please don’t tell me it’s that bloke, Louis!”
“Shhh! Will you keep your voice down? You’ll wake the whole house.”
“Well, it’s not, is it?” she forged on, this time in a whisper.
Chloe paused and then said with a sigh, “Who else would it be, Gracie?”
“I have another gentleman in mind,” she replied in an undertone, and Chloe thought she could have throttled her there on the spot.
“Who?” Lizzie asked, sitting up fully in the bed. “Who are all these men and do they know your condition?”
“Well,” Gracie sat up too and Chloe slapped a pillow over her own face in frustration. “Louis is this sappy fellow who was in love with Chloe long ago. You must remember him. He’s the one who eloped to Scotland just before Clo married Sam.”
“And he wants to marry you, Clo?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice muffled by the pillow.
“And what about this other gentleman? Is he the father?”
“Goodness me, I’m awfully tired all of a sudden,” Chloe nearly shouted before Gracie could answer, tossing the pillow aside. “The baby does that to me, you know?” she blathered on. “Completely fine one moment, and utterly exhausted the next.”
Lizzie nearly jumped off the bed. “Michael!” she shouted and then when both girls shushed her, she repeated in a whisper, “Michael! It's Michael, isn't it? Chloe, is he the father?”
“Ah...”
Gracie shifted slightly. “Who is Michael?
“Oh, goodness, I’m afraid I need to use the convenience!” Chloe blurted out, thankful no one could see how red her face had become.
“Right now?” Lizzie asked.
“I’m afraid the baby doesn’t allow me to wait for convenient times to empty my bladder.”
She extracted herself from the covers and inched her way to the end of the bed. The floor was freezing to her bare feet and she could feel the vermin scatter in fright. Normally, she would have squealed and jumped back into bed, but not tonight. Not when her sister and cousin were so close to discovering the true identity of her baby's father.
She paused at the foot of the bed, realizing it would be foolish to leave the two women alone. She had to explain things to Gracie before she made any mention of Andrew to Lizzie.
“Ummm...Gracie, I think I need you,” she said lamely.
“Need me?” came her sister’s incredulous response. “How could I possibly be of assistance while you use the chamber pot?”
“Well...it’s just that...Oh, will you just come with me!”
With that, Gracie finally rose from the bed and followed Chloe, who held the chamber pot in hand, from the room. Once they were in the hall, Chloe set the chamber pot on the floor and turned to address her sister.
“What are you doing?” Gracie asked, seeming somewhat perturbed that she'd been dragged from the warmth of the bed.
“I have to tell you something, Gracie, but you must swear to secrecy.”
“The parson says it’s a sin to swear.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Gracie, Lord Andrew is the father of this child.”
“I figured that out on my own. But who is this Michael person? And how long have you known you were pregnant? Do mother and father know?”
“Yes, they know, but we were waiting to tell the rest of you. We only found out after I fainted at the assembly.”
“Oh,” Gracie said. “And Michael?”
“Michael is Andrew’s twin. Identical twin. He took Andrew’s place in London, while Andrew accompanied me here to be with you.”
“But why?”
Chloe paused. Lord, how disgraceful this was. And what a horrible example she set for her little sister. “Because...because we love each other, Gracie. But we can’t be together. He is engaged to Lizzie, and...well, we’re just poor relations. I would not be an appropriate match for someone of his status.”
There was silence in the hallway and after a moment, Gracie simply pulled Chloe into an affectionate hug. “Your secret is safe with me, dear sister.”
***
Two days later, Lizzie
waved good-bye to her relations and set off for London. The departure was bittersweet. She’d enjoyed her stay with her family — she always enjoyed the camaraderie she shared with Chloe and Gracie—but their living conditions were a far cry from what she was used to. No servants, no modern amenities. It was like living in the dark ages. And there was only so much she could take of the smell of pig slop. If Stevie and James weren't so handsome, she would think they were pigs themselves.
However, one thing was for certain: She could not allow Chloe to marry that sappy Louis person! Especially not when she carried Michael Wetherby’s baby.
Chloe had been very clear that she did not want Michael to know about the pregnancy, but that certainly wasn’t going to stop Lizzie. It was obvious Chloe loved him, and she’d seen at times the way he had regarded her when she was in Town. There was a connection there, and the only thing that prevented them being together was Chloe’s blasted pride.
Well, Lizzie would see to it that Michael and Chloe were somehow reunited, if for no other reason than for the sake of their unborn child.
Twenty-Four
“Four days,” Andrew mumbled to himself as he stared blankly over the edge of his pint glass.
“Four days, what?”
Andrew jerked his head up to meet his brother’s quizzical eyes.
It took him a moment to figure out what Michael was talking about. He was so absent-minded these days. “Oh, nothing,” he said at last. “I was just...thinking.”
“A dangerous pastime, brother.” Michael reached across their usual table at White’s and tapped the side of his glass. “Drink up. It’s much safer.”
Normally, Andrew would have found the humor in his brother’s advice, but he had trouble forming a smile. Come to think of it, he hadn’t formed a real smile since the day Chloe sent him back to London.
He wondered what she was doing just then. He pulled out his pocket watch—two in the morning. Sleeping. Of course his beautiful girl was sleeping. How he wished he were next to her, holding her firmly against him, listening to her dreamy murmurs-
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