An Inconvenient Trilogy - Three Regency Romances: Inconvenient Ward, Wife, Companion - all published separately on Kindle and paperback
Page 53
“Would you mind if we rested for a while?” she asked.
“Not at all, are you well?” Alfred asked, immediately concerned at Laura’s pale face.
“I’m fine,” Laura replied, with a thin smile, but she sank into the bench as if it was the most comfortable chair she had ever sat on. “I think a few moments here, before we continue and I will be fine again.” She could never explain to him that every time she thought of him leaving, she felt sick to her stomach. Especially so today, with his talk of Lord and Lady Halkyn’s return, and contacting Mr Frost. She needed a few moments to gather herself.
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, each enjoying the other’s company. Alfred broke the silence eventually.
“I never thought that I would get used to seeing so few people. London is so busy that I never felt totally alone, but here, there is no one for miles, and yet it is a comfortable feeling,” he said quietly.
“Apart from me, sitting inches away of course,” Laura replied with an arched eyebrow.
Alfred gently pushed her shoulder, “You know what I meant, you picky woman!”
Laura smiled, “I did, it’s just that I get worried when you go all melancholy on me.”
“Never that, with you around,” Alfred said good-naturedly. “I never thought I’d like the space, I suppose I never even thought I would see it, but I find it beautiful.”
“I really do know what you mean,” Laura said seriously. “We are all so wrapped up in trying to make a living in London, that we don’t have the time or the money to venture into the countryside.”
“I don’t want this to be the only time that I ever see it,” Alfred said, half to himself.
“Promise you will visit me,” Laura responded, urgency in her voice.
“What?” Alfred asked, surprised at the change of tone.
“Promise that you will come and visit me,” Laura repeated. “Alfred, I need to know that I will see you again.” Gone was the reserved Laura, she needed to speak to him now, in case their time was limited.
“Laura, I can’t offer…” Alfred started, waving his hands in Laura’s general direction.
Laura’s blood began to boil, he was so honourable but yet he could not see what was right in front of his face, that they were meant to be together. “Am I asking for anything other than a visit? I think you will find Alfred Peters, that I am not,” she responded offended.
“I just didn’t want you to think I was promising anything if I agreed to visit,” Alfred said, floundering a little at the anger pulsing from Laura’s every pore.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Laura snapped, anger making her speech more careless. “You’ve made it quite clear that you find me repulsive!”
“That is not true!” Alfred snapped back. “How could you say that I find you repulsive when we had the night that we shared?”
“But now I’m with child, you do,” Laura responded, standing and folding her arms.
“You are carrying another man’s child, do you want me to rejoice over that?” Alfred snapped, standing to face Laura. “What do you think I felt when I saw you, no, felt that you were with child that evening when you followed me home?”
Laura’s anger was reduced slightly at the look of pain in Alfred’s eyes. “I would have expected you to have asked me civil questions instead of jumping to your own conclusions and condemning me,” she said in a quieter manner than her last outburst.
Alfred sighed, “I know your background Laura, I don’t think my conclusions were unreasonable were they?”
Alfred’s words incensed Laura, tears of anger and frustration sprang to her eyes. She put her hands on her hips, squeezing herself tightly, to prevent reaching out and strangling Alfred. “You fool!” she spat. “All the signs have been there before your bloody eyes and you’ve ignored every one of them! You’re the father of this child and you damn well know it! Add up the dates Alfred! You ought to be ashamed that so far, you are proving to be the worst of fathers!”
Alfred paled at the words. He had felt anger in his life, but never since the death of Mr King and his family had he felt such blazing fury. “How dare you level such an accusation at me?” he snarled at Laura, his anger barely contained. “I would have thought better of you Laura, than trying to blame your folly on a decent man, and yes, even after all that has happened, I class myself as a decent man. Don’t ever mention this to me in the future, or you will never see me again, I promise you that.”
When Alfred had finished speaking, he turned and walked away from Laura, his fists in tight balls at his sides. He needed to escape. Laura knew him, they had been so close over the weeks they had been together, he had thought her the person who knew him most in the word and thought highly of him. He had thought highly of her, had loved her, he supposed, or as close has he had ever got to loving anyone.
How could she have said those things? Why now? Did she think that he was now so deeply involved that he would throw up his hands in surrender and accept what she was saying? If that was the case, she did not know him after all. He would never be forced into a situation which he did not want.
Alfred stormed across the fields, steam almost coming out of his nostrils as he walked. The lack of people today was an advantage, as Alfred was sure that he would kill the first person that said a wrong word to him. Laura had hit on his deepest desire, and it hurt that she had hit it dead centre.
He longed for a family. The likelihood of him having one was slim at best, as he would never put his wife in the position of being a young widow and in his line of work that was a real possibility. So, he had avoided all contact with marriageable ladies. With his background, first hunting down Mr King’s killers, and then working as a Bow Street Officer, it did not really need much effort to avoid women, he worked more than he played. It did not take away the fact that he wanted to be a husband and father though, since he wanted to give a young life the secure upbringing that he had not experienced.
Laura’s accusation had shaken him to the core. If he was the father of her child, the thought was terrifying. He would have brought a child into the world in the worse possible way, to an insecure future. He felt sick at the thought.
As he walked he calmed a little, Laura was angry, she had spoken out to hurt. Although she had succeeded, Alfred became more magnanimous. She was a woman in an uncertain position, and of course she would try to secure her future and that of her baby. He just wished that she had chosen a better solution. He did wonder about the night they had spent together, but dismissed it. He was sure he was not the father, and that Laura was just lashing out.
*
Laura sank onto the bench after Alfred had stormed off and dissolved into tears. If she had been able to think coherently, she would probably have laughed at herself. The last time she had cried was the day that she had realised that Baron Kersal was not her saviour, after the man who had taken away her innocence had dressed, thrown a few coins on the bed and had left the room. Her tears then had been of fear and shame, her tears now were of the same.
How could she have lost her temper so foolishly? Alfred had told her that he would not believe it if a woman of the night told him that he was the father of her child, and yet here she was, shouting that very thing at him, in the worst possible way. He would probably never speak to her again, in fact if he stayed it would be a miracle. He would see it her story as a poor way of repaying all his kindnesses.
Laura was at a loss. He would never believe her. She had condemned her unborn child to never being accepted by its father and she had no idea how to resolve the situation. She had always been capable, able to keep herself contained to deal with what life threw at her, but this was beyond her. She had created a life knowingly and she had not thought through the reality of it.
In her heart, she supposed that she had hoped he would guess and accept her and the baby and they would live happily ever after.
Laura dried her eyes roughly, angry with herself. She was not one for
happily ever after! That only happened in fairy stories that children were fooled with. She had to face reality, this child was going to be brought up by one parent and there was one thing she could be certain about, the child would be sure of its happy ever after, because she was determined to break the cycle. She would do everything in her power to make sure that her baby would have the chances that she herself had not.
Laura stood and squared her shoulders, she could do this, she was strong enough. Suddenly, she doubled over in pain and groaned. As the pain eased, her breathing slowed a little, but her heart still pounded, there was something wrong with the baby. All her fine thoughts and promises and already she was in a situation where she could do nothing, this was too early.
She gripped the bench and tried to stand, and when the pain did not return, she tentatively began to walk towards the house.
Never had such a relatively short walk taken so long. Laura would walk until the pain washed over her and then sink to her knees, unable to do anything, but gasp. Once the pain subsided, she would push herself off her knees and walk, hunched over, through the gardens.
It was only when she reached the rose garden that she saw an undergardener and managed to call him over, through gritted teeth.
“Yes, Miss?” the young boy said, approaching her with caution.
“Get Miss Fairfield, tell her it’s the baby,” Laura gasped, the pain washing over her once more.
“Yes Miss!” came the response, as he turned and ran towards the house.
Laura remained in the position she was, since somehow asking for help had drained some of her resources and she had not the strength to move. It was taking everything she had to concentrate on breathing. It felt like hours before she saw the welcome figures of Charles and Martha running over the lawned area, with the under gardener leading the way. They all arrived breathless, but Martha crouched down in front of Laura.
“Laura, what’s wrong?” she asked, feeling Laura’s heated forehead with her hand.
“The baby…,” Laura gasped, “But it’s too early, it’s three weeks too early,” she sobbed.
“They come when they’re ready,” Martha said, in her calm matter-of-fact way. She stood immediately and moved to Laura’s side. “Charles, we need to get her to her bed chamber immediately. Benjamin, tell Mr Smithson, we need the midwife for Miss Atkinson.”
Benjamin ran off again immediately, his eyes round with the excitement of the day, while Charles took Laura’s other side. Together the pair lifted Laura and half supported her, half dragged her back to the house.
Laura kept muttering as they walked, all that was coherent was “The baby.”
As Martha walked, she reassured Laura. “Don’t worry, Lady Dunham’s baby arrived early and she was fine. They have their own time, don’t worry, we will soon have you inside.” Martha kept her voice level and soothing, she was fully aware that Laura was frightened, just as Lady Dunham had been.
Laura was led into the hallway of the house and visibly relaxed. So much had been running through her mind, one thing being that she might have the child out of doors. Once inside, she knew it would not be long before she was safe in her bedchamber.
Smithson, hovered near the doorway, offering to take over from Martha, in supporting Laura. Martha moved to allow the butler to help, but Laura protested.
“No,” she gasped, gripping tight to Martha’s arm. “He needs to find Alfred. I need Alfred.”
There was no surprise betrayed by the two gentlemen in the hallway. Martha accepted Laura’s words, but instead of turning to Smithson, she turned to Charles.
“Charles, Mr Smithson can help me with Laura. Please find Alfred, he left the house with Laura, so I am presuming that he is still outside,” Martha said calmly.
“He was angry,” Laura gasped.
“Shh, don’t worry, he will soon be found.” Martha soothed, not wanting Laura to air her troubles in public.
Charles nodded and left the room, while Laura was carefully, but firmly helped to her room. Charles walked to the stables, if Alfred had gone off in a temper, it was likely he would not be in the formal gardens. Alfred in a temper, Charles mused as he walked. What complicated lives the temporary residents of Home Farm seemed to lead. The ever calm Alfred losing his temper he could barely imagine, but whatever had happened, it was obviously important to Laura that he return.
Chapter 16
Alfred paced the dining room for the thousandth time. “How long do these things take?” he demanded of Charles, who was sat trying to offer comfort in his own quiet way.
“I’ve little more experience than you, I’m afraid,” Charles said apologetically. “I don’t think one can tell how long it will be.”
“But it’s been hours!” Alfred said, once again walking towards the window, resting his hand on the frame, before turning back and walking to the fireplace and then to the dining room door.
Charles watched the young man before him. He was acting almost identically to the way Lord Dunham had behaved when his wife had been giving birth. It was obvious that Alfred and Laura had feelings for each other, a blind man could have seen the regard they shared, but he wondered about the child. Charles shook himself, it was not his business to wonder and if Martha was in the same position, he would like as not be acting in the same way. The thought of Martha being heavy with another man’s child was enough to stop Charles dwelling and scowl into the fire.
The door opened and both men spun their heads, expecting to see Martha in the doorway. Instead Smithson entered, “Mr Anderton, Mr Peters, Lord and Lady Halkyn have arrived.”
The newcomers entered the room, looking like the newlyweds they were. Happiness seemed to glow around them and they held each other’s arm, as if they could not bear to let go of one another. Their blonde heads leaning towards each other, not quite ready to allow the rest of the world into the one they had created.
“Lord Halkyn,” Charles said, bowing to the Lord and Lady. “We were not expecting you.”
“No, we only returned to London a sen’night ago. Walter told us about your visit Mr Peters, and there was a letter waiting for me from Dunham, gloating that he had helped because of my dallying on our wedding tour. Lady Halkyn insisted we leave the following morning,” Lord Halkyn replied, with an indulgent look at his bride.
“I needed to make sure Laura was well,” Lady Halkyn explained, a flush on her cheeks. She was a beautiful young woman, and at first glance it would be presumed that her looks had attracted Lord Halkyn, when in reality it had been her spirit and vulnerability. “Where is she?”
“Ah, she’s a little unavailable at the moment,” Charles said, himself a little embarrassed, not used to talking of such things with a young lady.
“She is well?” Lady Halkyn asked, alarmed.
“She is currently delivering her baby and it is taking an age!” Alfred said through gritted teeth.
Lord Halkyn looked with surprise at the Bow Street Officer, but his attention was soon taken by his wife.
“With child? Oh my goodness me!” Lady Halkyn exclaimed. “I must go to her.”
“Charlotte, I don’t think….” Lord Halkyn started, ever the one wanting to protect his wife from anything he thought she would find distasteful.
“Don’t worry,” Charlotte smiled at her husband. “I shall be fine.”
Charlotte left the room, to be guided to Laura’s bed chamber by Smithson. Lord Halkyn turned to Alfred. “Right Peters, you had better tell me what’s been going on. I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’ve obviously gone and got yourself into all kinds of trouble!”
*
Laura had never been so relieved that an event was over in her life, when she was finally handed the swaddled bundle that contained her daughter. The midwife remained until she was satisfied that everything was in order and then left, informing Martha and Lady Halkyn that she would visit on the morrow.
Laura was aware of conversations going on around her, but had no comprehension
of their content. She was too engrossed in staring at her baby, her own child. The baby looked back at its mother, with a stare that seemed clear, before falling contentedly asleep, seemingly happy with her lot in life. Laura gently stroked the side of her face, marvelling in the softness of the skin and the feel of downy hair.
She looked up as the door opened, to realise that Charlotte was leaving the room and turned to Martha in question.
“Don’t worry, she is only going to tell the gentlemen that mother and baby are well. She shall return shortly. I expect you’ll have a lot to talk about,” Martha said quietly, finishing off fixing the bed cover over the new mother.
“We will,” Laura agreed. “I am so glad this is all over,” she sighed and leaned back into the pillows. “I thought she would not survive being early. I have never felt such panic when the pains started and I realised what was happening.”
“Well she looks strong enough to me,” Martha said with a smile, leaning over to the child. “She is beautiful, have you thought of a name?”
“Frederica,” Laura said, not quite meeting Martha’s gaze.
“That is a lovely name,” Martha said gently. “A variation of her father’s name that will suit her, I’m sure.”
Laura looked horrified at Martha, before her eyes filled with tears for the second time in a day. “You know?” she whispered.
“I guessed,” Martha said. “I recognise the looks you give each other and when you said that you were sure when it had happened, I obviously don’t know, but I had a suspicion that it was tied in with Alfred somehow. Does he know?”
“I told him today,” Laura said with a sob. “I shouted it at him,” she said with a half attempt at a laugh, which turned into a hiccup. “He won’t ever believe me.”
“Give him time,” Martha said reassuringly.
“No, he will never believe me,” Laura said with conviction. “And if I’m being honest, I can’t blame him. I’m not sure I’d believe me if I were in his position.”