by Unknown
“Within the hour, hopefully.”
“Let us hope this modern medicine works. In my day, we took to our beds and hoped for the best.” She shook her head. “Unfortunately, it was usually the worst.”
“I’m not sure what they can do for Oliver,” he warned.
There was still no cure for consumption in spite of the medical advances. They just had to pray the boy was strong enough to fight it.
The woman strolled into sight, and Henrietta and Anna waved in their direction. He lifted a hand while his mother steadfastly ignored them.
“That woman is your lover, I take it.”
Inwardly, he cringed. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to his mother about his sex life. He hardly felt comfortable talking to her about the latest updates to the dower house let alone how he spent his private time. None of them had ever been particularly close to their mother.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Pretty woman. Quite intelligent too.”
He stared at his mother. “Pardon?”
“You should snap her up before someone else does.”
Harris had to stare at her for quite some time longer. Did his mother even know about Anna’s past? She must, he was certain of it. Somehow, his mother knew everything. So why on earth was she of all people telling him to snap her up?
“Marriage, Harris. Marriage is what you need.”
“A marriage like yours?” He regretted the words when she flinched a little. The truth was, he was not used to his mother showing any display of feelings. He had to wonder if she had not been inhabited by some mischievous ghost or something equally bizarre.
“I do not think you would have a marriage like mine with Miss Dubois.”
Harris looked away from where the ladies moved across the lawn, twirling their parasols and looking as beautiful as ever. His sisters-in-laws had been completely accepting of Anna, and they had all come to enjoy each other’s company as far as he could tell. Though the circumstances could be better, he hoped she at least enjoyed the companionship they provided.
Thoughts of marriage were luckily dispelled by the sound of horse hooves on the road. The women hastened to join him, and he motioned to the footman.
“You may wish to fetch the others. They shall want to be here.”
His brothers had joined him by the time the carriage pulled up outside of the house. Anna came to his side and grasped his hand. He stole a glance at her. He could swear, in that moment, a word he seldom used rattled around his head. It vanished quickly when the carriage door opened and Julian stepped out.
Oliver was bundled in his mother’s arms and did not look any better but the weariness had eased from Julian’s face.
“He is still sick,” Julian announced. “But the doctor said it was not as bad as we had first thought. With care, he shall recover.”
The air released from their collective lungs. No one said a word, but Harris spotted tears in many an eye.
Viola handed the boy over to Julian who carried him inside while the rest of them followed.
Anna tugged Harris aside.
“I shall have to return to Stourbridge soon, now that the danger is passed. I hope you don’t mind, but I have been away too long.”
“No, of course.” He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “I must thank you for your support. You have been wonderful to me and my family.”
“You have a delightful family. I’ll confess I am most envious of it.”
“Had you grown up with six brothers I think you might be saying otherwise.”
“Well, I am glad I got to meet them.”
“When shall you leave?”
“In two days if possible.”
“Of course.” An ache began in his gut. She could not stay by his side forever, he knew that. He hadn’t even thought he wanted her to, but now she was leaving...
“When shall I see you again?”
Her eyes brightened. “Soon, I hope. The invitation to visit Stourbridge is still open.” Anna offered a shy smile. “It always shall be.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Miss Dubois.”
Anna paused as she passed the kitchens and stopped in the doorway. “Yes, Mrs Baxter?”
The head cook motioned to the menus currently spread across the large wooden table that occupied the middle of the room. The maids and waiters scurried by, ever busy serving and preparing food for the guests at Stourbridge. Anna prided herself on being able to provide the finest and most up-to-date cuisine but she warranted many guests would be surprised to find that the chef was a woman of thirty when most fine restaurants were headed up by men.
“Do you have a moment to look over the new menus?”
She held back a sigh. It was not that she did not want to look over them, but she was incredibly pressed for time. She should not have stayed away for so long, but how could she have left Harris at such a time?
Damn, she needed to write him a letter today too. She’d only managed to pen a brief one a few days ago and she really wished to inquire after Oliver. His last letter had implied he would be staying a Lockwood for a little while longer.
Stepping into the kitchen and drawing in the smell of sweet pastries, she scowled when her stomach gave a little lurch of protest. Determined to ignore the odd sensation, she leafed through the menus and nodded. “All looks well.”
The cook’s eyebrows arched. “Are you sure?”
She was not offended by the woman’s surprise. After all, she usually rejected the menus several times when they revised them, but today she had not the time or the will to change them. They all looked perfectly fine anyway.
“Yes. These will do nicely.” She put down the final menu. “If you need anything more, I’ll be in my office.”
“Of course, Miss Dubois.”
Anna hastened upstairs and through the main hallway. She moved past the statues of couples in various stages of copulation. Funny how they had never bothered her before. They had been a means to an end. A way to make Stourbridge that little more scandalous. While many saw them as art and others saw them as something incredibly sordid—and no doubt that appealed to them—she had hardly spared them two glances after installing them.
Today, however, they left an ache in her chest. Mostly because she recalled what it was like to be entwined similarly with Harris. And with those thoughts came the hard realisation that it was not just the sex she was missing.
Anna strode through to her office and found her secretary occupying the white and gold space.
“There’s some new membership requests for you to look at,” Nora told her.
“Have they been checked?”
“Yes, they’re simply waiting on you to say yes or no.”
She nodded and moved behind the elegant desk. “Thank you, Nora. I’ll get through these today and you can write the confirmations shortly.”
The young woman nodded and took that as her dismissal.
Sitting, she rested her head on her hands. She had to face facts. Her love for business, for profit had gone. If she did not find it again, Stourbridge would suffer and so would the people relying on her for their livelihood. She owed it to the many girls she had rescued off the streets and from abusive houses to be the best business woman she could be.
But the hunger was gone. Spoiled by one man. He had forced her to see outside of Stourbridge, outside of her bitter need for revenge upon those who treated her with scorn. It no longer mattered if she had their secrets or not, if she could know the details of their little lives while they glanced at her with fear.
Anna had received a taste of life without Stourbridge, and she wanted more.
She wanted Harris.
Those three little words haunted her mind. They were not new but they were becoming more forceful. She had been able to admit she was wildly fond of Harris—and his family, really. But those three words. What could they ever mean? She had little idea if Harris loved her, but he had certainly been attentive and wo
nderfully supportive. Harris knew more about her than any other person on the earth and still wished to be by her side. But that did not necessarily mean love. After all, he had pursued her out of lust, not love.
She closed her eyes as a wave of weariness came over her. She opened them again and glanced at the clock. It was only just past lunchtime, and yet she was ready to give up for the day. Scowling at the letters in front of her, she tried to force her attention on sorting them into piles of yes and no. The exhaustion edged into her mind, though, making it cloudy and hard to concentrate.
She clapped a hand over one application from a respected doctor.
A tiny jolt of horror speared her. She had been sleeping a lot of late and feeling exhausted in between. Her odd appetite was unusual too. Swinging from wishing to eat a lot to feeling nauseated.
Was she sick? She swallowed. She would have to speak to the doctor. It was likely nothing serious, but what if she’d contracted consumption too?
She abandoned the applications and found Nora at her desk. “Could you send for the doctor when you get the chance?”
Very little surprised Nora. After all, working in a place like Stourbridge hardened most of them. But her assistant’s brows rose. “Is all well?”
“Yes, yes. It’s nothing urgent.”
“I’ll send for him straight away.”
“It really isn’t urgent,” Anna insisted, more to quieten the small voice of panic echoing through her mind.
She rarely got ill—she hardly had time to—but this lethargy and odd appetite was not right. With any luck, it would be something mild and the doctor could reassure her. Once he had, she was bound to be able to get on with her work.
Anna retreated into her office, shut the door and tried to focus on the remaining applications. Several lords, a journalist—well, he was not going to get accepted—and a surgeon. All vying to get through her doors.
She eyed the white door to her office. Few of them would really understand what Stourbridge was. A den of sin run by a woman but more than that, a place of refuge. Most thought she was merely the face of the place, and she did not care enough to let them know otherwise. Her position brought her enough power as it was. Her nameless, faceless master granted her all the power she needed in the eyes of society.
Why was that not enough to satisfy her any longer? This past year her love of the business, of the power had been waning. It had started, she supposed, when there had been rumblings of news of her son. Suddenly, gaining yet more money and power did not seem important.
But what was important to her?
Anna sighed and closed her eyes. Her son, but there was nothing she could do for him now. She would always remember him, but there was no sense in doing anything other than follow his life from a distance. He was happy, and that was enough for her.
So she supposed it was Harris, then. He was what was important to her. That little glimpse into his family life, into his brothers’ lives, had teased and taunted her. It had given her a taste of a different sort of life, one where no one judged her or treated her differently. There was so much love between all of those people, and she didn’t think they had any idea how privileged they were to have it.
“Is that what I want?” she asked aloud.
After shaking her head, she rested them in her hands again. She just didn’t know. She had never really thought of the future. If she had somehow taken back her son, Stourbridge would not have been a suitable place to raise him. And if she had not, she would have run the place until she was old and grey, she imagined. All she had been focusing on was the endless stream of work the house created.
A knock on the door jolted her. She lifted her head and winced at the pain in her neck. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep at her desk. Pushing up and trying to smooth her hair, she peered through bleary eyes at the clock. She had been asleep for nearly two hours.
“Enter,” she said, her voice croaky.
She stood when Dr Simmons entered. “Thank you for coming.”
The doctor was a young man—at least for his profession—and only seven years older than herself. He had helped Harris when he’d been shot and was used to coming out to Stourbridge to fix various bumps and cuts when patrons got into the occasional scuffle. Nothing seem to faze the man, and she appreciated his straight-forward approach to life.
“Miss Dubois, how are you?”
Anna shook his hand and motioned to the chair. “Please sit.”
He set down his leather bag next to the elegantly embroidered gold chair.
“Can I get you a tea or coffee?” She stood to pull the bell, but he motioned for her to sit.
“Not at all. Nora implied that your business was quite urgent, what can I do for you?”
Anna sighed. “She should not have done that. There is nothing urgent. I’m sorry you have rushed here.”
“She seemed quite concerned.”
“I have been a little under the weather recently, but it is persisting. I had spent time in a household infected with consumption so I wanted to ensure there was no chance I had contracted that.”
The sandy-haired doctor leaned forward. “What are your symptoms?”
“I’m extremely tired. In fact, you just caught me sleeping. You know I am not one for sleeping much.”
“I do indeed.”
“And I am finding my appetite has gone. Which is odd because it was quite healthy not long ago.”
“Have you a cough? A fever?”
“No, none of those.”
“Then it is very unlikely you have consumption, Miss Dubois. You would have presented symptoms long ago had you contracted it.”
“I thought as much. I am sorry to have wasted your time.”
“The chances are you are suffering from exhaustion. I know you are not one for time off but may I suggest a long vacation?”
“You may, but I may not take it,” she said with a smile.
“I thought you might say that, but I must warn you, do not let yourself ail further. Your body could be weakening and susceptible to further illness. I have no wish to treat you for pneumonia.”
“I know, I shall look after myself, I promise.”
He pulled the bag onto his lap and unzipped it. “Do you mind if I listen to your chest?”
Anna nodded and drew off her jacket. He stood and pressed a stethoscope to the cotton of her shirt. She waited and breathed in and out as instructed.
“You sound healthy, Miss Dubois. As I say, rest is in order I think. No person can work as hard as you do and continue to thrive.”
“Of course.” Though she secretly admitted to herself she was not sure she could take any more time off. While Stourbrige had run well enough without her during her stay in London and Warwickshire, there had been plenty to catch up on. Not to mention she was hoping Harris would visit when his nephew was fully recovered.
The doctor packed away his stethoscope. “You know where I am if you need me.”
Anna slipped into her prim jacket and did it up to her neck. While at Stourbridge, she preferred more professional attire. It seemed odd perhaps that she was not always bedecked in beautiful gowns to match the elegant wear of the men and women at her home, but she had found dressing in a certain manner helped her maintain a business-like manner.
“I apologise again for wasting your time.”
Dr Simmons shook his head. “It’s been a while since I visited. How is that chap, Lord Cynfell, doing?”
“Very well. He still limps a little but is recovering well.”
“A man like himself does not suffer for the limp, I suspect. I imagine many ladies find it quite endearing.”
“I imagine they do.”
“Well—” he put on his hat “—if that is all, I shall bid you good day.”
“Thank you, doctor.” She moved to sit back down but paused when the doctor stopped with his hand on the doorknob.
“I don’t suppose...” He shook his head as if the idea was laughable. “You will forgive me
for saying this, but are your courses as they should be?”
Anna blinked. “Yes, of course.”
“Excellent. Then I should not worry.”
“Why?”
“Well, I see many pregnant ladies with symptoms like yours. If you were any other woman, I would be saying they were expecting.”
“Oh.”
“I can see you’re busy, Miss Dubois. I shall leave you in peace. Good day.”
“Good day,” Anna finally said to the closed door. She stared at the desk, sightlessly before dropping to her chair.
Her courses...were they...? She could not even say for certain. She had been so busy, she had not even considered...
She lifted a hand to her mouth. Of course the doctor would not expect her to have a lover or any chance of getting pregnant. She was famed for her dislike of men, and if anyone knew how busy she was, it was the good doctor. He likely had concluded she did not even have the time to take a lover.
How wrong he was.
Mentally, she skipped back over the weeks. If she was, it meant her protection had failed.
She dropped her hands to her stomach and considered her body carefully, trying to compare it to when she had fallen pregnant with her son.
“Oh goodness.”
She was with child. She had to be. But what would she do about it? What would she tell Harris?
Chapter Fifteen
Two weeks without her and he was beginning to go mad. Harris tweaked his necktie and eyed his reflection in the train window.
Still, the wait was almost over. Before long, he’d be at her side again.
His heart bounded, and he felt a little like a silly school boy with his first taste of lust. Hell, he could hardly recall how she tasted or what her skin felt like next to his. It had been far too long.
He swallowed and peered at his reflection again. He eyed himself severely, daring himself to say it aloud—admit to the words that had been swirling in his mind since she’d left. No, perhaps sooner than that.