by Cody Young
Roy seemed nervous. “Steady on! Or pull over and I’ll drive.”
“You will not. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times — ”
“Look out!”
Kate tried to take the next curve, and this time, the car didn’t make it. Kate lost control and the car squealed like an animal in pain. She saw Roy reach out and try to clutch at the steering wheel to help her, but it didn’t work. She could hear someone screaming as the car left the road — a high-pitched scream of dismay — and only dimly registered that it was her own voice.
• • •
Everything was eerily quiet, except for the hissing of the car, when Roy opened his eyes. The crash impact must have knocked him out for a few moments. He hoped it was only moments. He craned his neck and tried to see over the bonnet. The car must have careered off the edge of the road and down into the ditch. It was completely still now, nose down in the little stream of water at the bottom of the ditch. The windscreen was shattered and when Roy tried to move, he heard little bits of glass tinkling all around him. There was a smell of petrol and that peculiar hissing noise.
He turned awkwardly and glanced across at the passenger seat, fearful of what he might see. Katie was lying on her side, with her face away from him.
“You all right?”
She didn’t answer, not even when he shook her. He didn’t know how to take a pulse.
With a blind panic rising in his chest, he tried to get himself out of the car. The door was jammed but he slithered up and out of the window. He ran round the other side to see what had happened to Katie. Her eyes were closed.
Roy ran like the wind, only vaguely aware of an ugly looking gash on his arm. He felt no pain. He just kept running, feet slamming along the road in a rapid rhythm.
Katie’s hurt. The car’s wrecked. Got to get help.
At first, the fear and the adrenalin kept him running, but he was getting a pain in his side from running too fast. He didn’t even consider the possibility that another car might come along in the opposite direction. It hardly ever did. He had to find a house and there wasn’t one anywhere in sight. He hoped he didn’t have to run all the way back to Great Farrenden to get help. He’d just about die if he had to do that.
Then, Roy saw a small row of cottages, and with a new burst of energy, he sprinted toward the first one. He almost keeled over in the front porch, so out of breath he was unable to knock on the door. But they must have seen him coming, because the door opened, and a lady in hair rollers appeared.
“Help me, please,” gasped Roy. “There’s been an accident. She’s hurt.”
“Your mother?”
“No. Not my mum, my mum’s dead. No, Katie’s not dead. I hope not, but she wasn’t moving. You’ve got to help her!”
• • •
Katie woke to find herself on the chaise in the library. Michael had been banished from the room, and she was alone with Dr. Larchwood.
“Steady on,” he said, when she tried to hoist herself up into a sitting position. “You fainted, my dear, from the shock of the car accident. Do you remember?”
Visions of coming to in the car flooded into Katie’s mind.
“Yes, I remember. Oh doctor — I’ve wrecked his lordship’s MG. He loved that car.”
“I’m more concerned about you. Lie back on the couch for a moment, there’s a good girl.”
He examined her carefully, flexing each of her limbs to check to see if anything was broken, examining her cuts and bruises.
“Blood pressure seems fine, so probably no internal bleeding,” he murmured to himself. “I’m just going to palpate your tummy a bit to make sure you didn’t sustain internal damage.”
He pressed gently here and there. Then more firmly — experienced hands moving across her belly. His face became suspicious. He pressed down hard while Katie frowned in confusion. A doctor had done that to her once before.
“You have a boyfriend,” he said, as if he was stating a fact.
“No,” said Katie. “I don’t.” She could hardly tell Dr. Larchwood about Michael.
In an instant, Katie guessed the reason for his accusation “I couldn’t be! He swore it wasn’t possible!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dr. Larchwood was surprised to find Michael was waiting to ambush him in the hall. The wheelchair was parked by the front door and it was obvious his lordship would not let him pass until he knew the truth.
“What’s the situation, then?” Michael asked.
Dr. Larchwood had heard the gossip in the village, of course, but he didn’t believe it. He was a medical man, and he knew the extent of Lord Farrenden’s injuries. Katie must have a fellow in the village, some lusty young man from Market Farrenden would be responsible for this. The men hadn’t all been called up yet.
“A few cuts and bruises, from which she will make a complete recovery,” Dr. Larchwood said, with a bit of a smirk on his face. He wasn’t sure if he should mention the other matter just yet, though it would be plain to everyone soon. Then, his young lordship would have to dismiss his pretty serving wench and find another.
“Is there something else wrong with her?” Michael asked impatiently. “I’ve been very worried.”
Dr. Larchwood abandoned Katie’s confidence lightly, like shrugging off a waistcoat in the heat. “She’s pregnant,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“She’s pregnant?” Michael’s blue eyes went wide.
Dr. Larchwood was more than a little surprised by the look on Michael’s face, for it was the same astonished but pleased look that many an expectant father had given him when he had delivered the happy news.
“Yes. Most definitely pregnant, and she’ll be fine. She’s a strong young woman and most likely she’ll have a bouncing healthy baby next spring.”
His lordship’s face was a picture. It flickered from one emotion to the next passing through disbelief, pride, and anxiety all in a matter of seconds.
Dr. Larchwood chuckled. “If you’ll forgive my curiosity, my lord, how the devil did you manage that?”
Then he braced himself for an outburst of aristocratic rage. He hadn’t been able to resist asking the question, but Michael would be certain to deny it.
Instead, a delicate flush of color began to rise on his lordship’s face, and he didn’t reply. So, the rumors were obviously true. The angry young man in the chair had a pretty Irish sweetheart, and she was having Michael’s child. The village would go wild when this got out.
Michael spoke in a measured tone. “You may send me your bill, Doctor, and I will settle it with my monthly accounts. Would you mind showing yourself out, if you please? I must go and see Katie.”
• • •
She was lying on the couch in front of the fire with an old eiderdown over her. She looked up at him when he came near.
“You lied to me,” she said. She looked pale and vulnerable, and she shivered under the eiderdown. She was still a little shaky from her accident.
Michael took her hand, and kissed her fingers. “I’ve been an idiot,” he admitted. “But I swear I never meant to hurt you. They told me it wasn’t possible. I believed them.”
“And I believed you,” she said ruefully.
“Yes.” He wasn’t sure if he should add that he was sorry, but it didn’t seem altogether true, so he didn’t. He supposed he should feel a sense of guilt, but it simply wasn’t there. Instead, he felt a surge of excitement at being alive. He could father a child!
“You’re not sorry,” she said.
“Of course, I’m sorry,” he lied. “I should have realized the doctors could be wrong.”
“You’ve let this terrible thing happen to me all over again, and it will be worse than before, for I had no feelings at all for him, though I cried a thousand tears when my daughter died.” She began to sob heavily.
“Katie, it’ll be different this time. I swear to you and you must believe me now, because this is the truth. We will face this together.
You must let me take care of you, as you have taken care of me. Give me a little time, my love, and I promise I will make everything right.”
• • •
In the village, the gossip went wild.
Katie found that out when she went down to the shops to buy the meat. She could hear what they were saying as she joined the queue.
“It couldn’t be his of course … well, they can’t, can they? Not with a broken back.”
Katie knew her face was scarlet. She checked the contents of her basket just for somewhere to look.
“She can hear you, I think … ”
“I feel a bit sorry for her … ”
“She’ll never get away with it … he’ll know it couldn’t be his. She’ll get the sack, surely … ”
Katie was mortified. These women didn’t care that she could hear. They kept saying they were so sorry for her, but they didn’t mean a word of it. They were obviously rather pleased that this disaster had befallen her. Katie fumed inside as she inched nearer and nearer the head of the queue. Apparently, her misfortune at getting pregnant out of wedlock helped make them all look upright and respectable by virtue of the comparison.
Katie was just some slattern from Ireland who had gone and made a fool of herself. Again.
She couldn’t even walk off in disgust. They had nothing for supper and she was starving — the child inside her was already making demands on her body. So she had to stand there and listen to it all.
It had been more than a week since she and Michael had received the news. She dreaded the thought of another pregnancy. She didn’t know how to face the long wait, the pain and the heartache, not knowing if this child would live, either. And although Michael had said that things would be different, nothing had changed. He had made her no promises and no offers. She began to fear it was all turning out like last time, when Tom and his parents had sent her packing, alone.
The unkind gossiping continued.
“What was that book — Lady Chatterley’s Lover? I think that’s the one. He was in a wheelchair, wasn’t he? And she had an affair. Do they even have a gamekeeper at Farrenden Manor?”
Katie almost cried in fury and annoyance, and she was in tears by the time she reached the head of the queue.
The butcher’s boy rested his hands on the counter and gave her an undisguised leer. “Well, Miss, what do you think his lordship might fancy?”
“Not you as well,” she said, swiping away hot angry tears before she could hand over her ration books.
He gave a bit of a laugh. “If you think that’s bad, you should hear what they’re saying about you in the pub!”
• • •
Michael could see Katie was upset when she returned. She ran upstairs and wouldn’t come down no matter how much he coaxed or demanded. It was Roy who clued him in.
“Fetch the car,” Michael demanded. “The Austin. I’m going to sort this out, once and for all.”
“Get my crutches out of my wardrobe and put them on the back seat.”
Roy frowned, but he did as he was told. He owed Michael a huge favor for overlooking the wrecked MG.
“Go and get Alfie. Tell him we’re going ahead with Plan A.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
• • •
They drove without a word to the Dog and Whistle.
Michael had always imagined himself striding into the pub like a returning crusader after the war. Today, with Roy’s help, he staggered across the forecourt upright, but only just. He more like lurched in, bit by bit on his crutches, legs braced.
Michael’s face was fierce with determination. His hands gripped the crutches so tightly that his knuckles were white with the effort.
He may not have had the demeanor of a returning knight, but he silenced the room as he came through the low door of the Dog and Whistle. The laughter and the banter died and even the hardened drinkers and the men playing darts turned to stare. Some murmured “Yer lordship,” and touched their hands to their foreheads as a mark of respect. But the words on most people’s lips were plain and simple, and uttered in tones of deepest amazement.
“He’s walking!”
The landlord of the pub hurried from behind the bar. “Your lordship! This is a most unexpected pleasure. Can I get you a drink, sir? And a seat by the fire?”
Two or three men instantly vacated the chairs by the fireplace, where a cheerful blaze burned merrily in the grate.
Michael dismissed him. “Not yet, man, no.” He looked around the room, scanning the faces of local people he had not seen in months. He spoke in a loud, clear voice. “I understand that some extraordinary rumors have been going around about me.”
There was a stunned silence.
“Apparently I’m a fool, conned by one of my own servants.”
No one made a sound, the pub a sea of scared faces, frowning with confusion and surprise.
“A girl gets pregnant by one of you men, perhaps, and I am duped into believing the child is mine!”
Michael almost made the mistake of lifting up one of his crutches to wave it angrily at everyone, but he remembered to refrain in the nick of time. “I’m here today to set the record straight.”
Some of them looked at him like guilty dogs while others gazed into the depths of their beer mugs.
“Do you imagine that I don’t know what is required to get a girl pregnant?” Michael expostulated. There was a sort of splutter of suppressed laughter from one or two of the younger ones, but a nudge and a word of warning was all it took to restore the respectful silence.
Michael gripped his crutches even more tightly, willing himself to stay upright. “And you think the war has robbed me of the ability to do so?”
A low murmur circled the room.
“You are wrong,” Michael bellowed. “Katie is carrying my child, and there is no question about it. You think I would ever allow any of you to touch the woman I have chosen for myself?”
“No, sir. Of course not.” It was the publican who spoke up, desperate to pour oil on troubled waters. “Don’t upset yourself, now, me lord. The boys were only concerned for you, because we heard you came back from the war with a broken back.”
“Yes,” Michael confirmed more quietly. “But even the worst wounds heal to some extent, as you can see.” He noticed a shadow from the open doorway, and he turned to look. Katie stood there, behind him, listening to every word.
She must have run down from the house just after she saw him leaving with Roy in the Austin. She looked as stunned as everyone else in the room. Her face was white with shock. Michael gave her what he hoped was a warm smile of encouragement. Then he turned back to the crowd.
“She was purity itself when she came to work for me. So, I can only assume that the scurrilous rumors concerning Katie’s reputation have been spread by those whose attempts to court her were less successful than my own. She is mine now. You people slandering her now, listen to me! You will never speak about my wife like that again.”
There was a bit of a gasp.
“Yes. I said my wife because she is my wife, in every sense but one, and if I am lucky, she will agree to become my legal wife, and you will all bear witness to it.”
Michael turned to her again. He wanted to stretch out his hand, invite her to come to him, but he couldn’t. He dared not loosen his grip on the crutches even for a moment.
She approached him, eyes wide and fearful, shaking from the shock of seeing him on his feet. Her sweet face tilted up to him, her expression full of concern. He wanted to hold her, but he pressed on with what he had to say.
“Reach into my jacket pocket, my love,” he invited her.
She did as she was told, and pulled out a letter with familiar handwriting.
“It’s from my parents,” she said in astonishment.
“Yes. I asked their permission for us to marry,” he explained, in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “This has been the only reason for the delay, you understand.
I hold you in the highest regard, and my devotion to you grows stronger every day. Now that I have their blessing, I can ask you to become my wife. I love you, Katie, please, will you be my lady?”
He watched her eyes go wide as she considered the implications. Lady Farrenden. Then her lips parted, but no sound came out from between them. She seemed to be as terrified as she did the first day she saw him. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her fears away, but he had to content himself with words.
“Katie, darling, I can’t possibly kneel, and I rather doubt that I can stand for much longer,” Michael said, shaking with the effort. “So please, put us all out of our misery and say yes,” he said.
She took one last glance at her parents’ signature on the letter in her hands, as if she could hardly believe they would allow it.
She nodded. “Yes,” she stammered, “I’ll have to marry you, won’t I?” Then she burst into tears and smiles at the same time and flung her arms around his neck.
He nearly toppled off his crutches, but he managed to get his balance. “Steady on,” he said, and smiled triumphantly at her and everyone else in the room. “Now, we shall require a round of drinks for everyone in the house, for I am sure that the whole room will want to raise a glass to our future happiness. Where is that chair by the fire?”
“We are delighted to bear witness to your recovery, sir,” the landlord said, helping Michael across the room.
At last, a cheer went round the room, and people began to relax. People clapped Michael on the back, wished him health, wealth and happiness. People introduced themselves to Katie and spoke to her in a polite, deferential way that she’d never experienced in her life. Nobody was rude enough to mention the baby on its way.
Michael collapsed into a chair, clanking like a knight in rusty armor. The leg braces were desperately uncomfortable, so Roy ran forward to help him to release the catches so Michael could relax. Katie leaned forward and looked curiously at his ankles.
“I’ve been practicing for weeks,” Michael confessed. “It was meant to be a surprise for our wedding day.”