Forever Mine

by Monica Burns

  “Victoria, if something were wrong, you would tell me, wouldn’t you, my love.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said in a quiet, but emotionless voice. “I’m tired, Nicholas, nothing more.”

  It was at that moment he realized she was lying to him. Anger surged through his veins at the realization. Vickie had lied to him all the time, and the fact that Victoria was lying to him now infuriated him while instilling dread deep down inside. Christ Jesus, Victoria had always been honest with him. For her to lie to him now was a kick in his gut.

  By the time they arrived home, his anger had grown to a quiet fury. As he followed Victoria upstairs and into her room, he was determined to have the matter settled between them.

  “I really am tired, Nicholas. Do you mind if I sleep alone tonight.” The request was another kick in his stomach, but it was the forlorn air about her that dissolved his anger entirely. He quickly pulled her into his arms.

  “I know something’s wrong, my love. Tell me what it is. It can’t be so bad that you’re afraid to tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll work through it.”

  Victoria buried her face into his shoulder as she hugged him. Her action filled him with relief. She wouldn’t press herself into him so tightly if she no longer loved him. Suddenly, he realized that had been his greatest fear.

  “Victoria, do you love me?”

  “Of course I do,” she mumbled “I’ll always love you.”

  “Then tell me what’s wrong,” he said fiercely. “And don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. I know you too well.”

  “I can’t,” she said hoarsely. “I don’t know how.”

  She pushed her way out of his arms and moved away from him to remove her sapphire necklace and drop it on her dressing table.

  “Damn it, Victoria, I refuse to have secrets between us,” he growled. “I endured enough lies, treachery, and betrayal with Vickie. I’ll not abide that from you as well.”

  In a vicious movement, she whirled around to face him and glared at him, but it was the fear and anguish in her blue eyes that made his gut clench with fear.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Nicholas felt as though he had been struck by lightning. Rooted to the spot where he stood, he watched Victoria walk past him to sit on the edge of the bed. She was with child. God in heaven, what had he done? It was a culmination of his worst nightmares.

  His shoulders sagging, he bent his head as the image of Edmund flashed through his head. He loved his brother, but bringing a child with similar handicaps into the world caused his stomach to roil. Worst of all, Victoria had not told him about the pregnancy.

  Nicholas met her gaze in silence, his thoughts churning violently. He noted her slender hips and flat stomach, trying to imagine her round with child. A child that in all likelihood would not have its full faculties. Victoria’s eyes were huge in her pale face.

  “I didn’t know how to tell you.” She made a helpless gesture with her hands. “I know how you feel about having children.”

  “When is the babe due?” he asked in a dispassionate voice.

  “July I think.” Her face displayed a wild despair as he questioned her, but he did not reach out to her.

  A part of him wanted to pull her into his arms, but he resisted the impulse. He needed time to think. Time to put things into perspective. In many ways, he felt like a fox trapped by baying hounds. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I will leave you to your rest.” Wheeling about on his heel, he headed toward the bedroom door.

  “Nicholas,” she rasped hoarsely. “Please, I need to know how you feel about this.”

  The quiet desperation in her voice twisted his heart, but he could not turn to face the misery he knew would be visible on her face. He could not console her when he knew he did not want this child.

  “The deed is done, madam. Regrets do not allow one to turn back the clock.”

  He didn’t look back, but continued out of the room. He needed something to do, something to occupy him as he absorbed the reality of his current situation. Charles had invited him to a game of cards tonight, but he’d turned his friend down as he and Victoria were attending the play. Knowing his friend, Charles would no doubt be playing until the early morning hours, and focusing on a game of cards would allow him to process what Victoria had just told him. Without a second thought, he charged out of the house and flagged down a hack. He’d made Victoria with child, and there was only one other thing he feared more, and that was losing her.

  § § §

  Nicholas rolled over in the bed he’d slept in at the club. His head was pounding. After he and Charles had quit their card game early this morning, he’d proceeded to drink himself into a stupor. He’d allowed his friend to assume he and Victoria had had a lover’s quarrel, while coming to the realization that he was an ass. Nicholas groaned out loud. It had been years since he’d drunk himself into oblivion, and his body was protesting the abusive drinking of the night before.

  He swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. Drowning his sorrows in whiskey had done nothing to ease his miserable state. He’d fathered a child, and there was nothing that could be done about it. Dropping his head into his hands, he groaned again. What was he going to do if the child turned out to be like Edmund? Who would care for the child after he and Victoria were gone? There was no one else to take over the family title.

  The sudden image of Victoria’s face from last night returned to haunt him. Guilt spread through him as he remembered their conversation. There had been no doubt of her desperation and misery. He’d heard it in her voice, and he’d failed her. Instead of reassuring her, he’d gone off to lick his wounds, leaving her alone without even thinking about how his words might have made her feel. He loved her, and his response to her news had made it sound as though he blamed her for what had happened. The fault lay with him. He was a bastard. He needed to go home and apologize.

  Victoria had clearly been dealing with this for several months. Looking back, he could see the toll it had been taking on her. The moments when he’d seen her staring off into space with a look of despair, her tiredness, the lackluster look in her eyes at different points in time. God help him, but he was responsible for her pain.

  He’d made it clear he never wanted children, and knowing how he’d felt it had been impossible for her to tell him the truth sooner. He still wouldn’t know if he’d not pushed her last night. Nicholas sighed. He didn’t just need to apologize to her, he needed to grovel. His wife was the most wonderful thing in his life, and without her, he was nothing. At this point he was facing another uphill battle to win her forgiveness. But he’d done it before, and he’d do it again. Nicholas intended to be there for her and the child, no matter what the circumstances.

  Rising to his feet, he swayed slightly where he stood. Bloody hell, his head hurt. With a grimace, he dressed and left the club. The hack that drove him home seemed to hit every pot hole in the street. By the time the small carriage pulled up in front of the town house, his head resounded with a repetitive beating drum. Inside the house, he headed slowly for the stairs intent on speaking to Victoria right away. From the library, Edmund came charging out and tackled him to the hard marble floor.

  “What did you do to her, Nicholas?” his brother shouted as Nicholas was forced to deflect his brother’s blows as he attempted to wrestle Edmund to the ground. “Why did you make her leave? You go find her and bring her back.”

  “Damn it to hell, Edmund,” he snapped as he managed to pin his brother to the floor. “What the devil are you talking about?”

  “Victoria,” his brother said angrily. “You sent her away.”

  “I didn’t send Victoria away,” Nicholas rasped as his heart sank like a stone in a pond, and he allowed Edmund to sit up. “Where is she, Edmund? Tell me where Victoria is.”

  “I don’t know.” Edmund, his face wet with tears, sat on the floor staring at Nicholas.

  “What do you mea
n, you don’t know,” Nicholas said hoarsely. “Roberts. Jamieson.”

  His voice was a loud roar in the foyer, as he helped his brother to his feet. Jamieson was the first to arrive, and the butler’s expression was grave and uneasy.

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” Jamieson said in an awkward tone. “It’s Lady Guildford. She’s gone.”

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” Fear sliced through him like a knife. Had someone kidnapped her? “When?”

  “Sometime after breakfast.”

  “And no one saw her leave?” he snarled.

  “No, my lord.” Jamieson shook his head with regret. “Molly brought her toast for breakfast, and her ladyship sent her away with orders she didn’t want to be disturbed. When Molly returned for the tray, she discovered her ladyship was gone, and the smallest of her ladyship’s traveling cases is missing and a few of her dresses.”

  “Sweet Jesus,” Nicholas whispered as he stared at the floor. He’d done this. He’d driven her from the house. He pulled his pocket watch out of his vest. It was three o’clock. God help him, he’d slept more than half the day away thanks to his drinking binge last night. Victoria had at least a six-hour head start. She could be anywhere. From the staircase, Roberts called out to him and waved a letter in his hand as the valet ran down the stairs.

  “My lord, I found this on the fireplace mantle in your room,” his valet said as he crossed the floor and handed Nicholas the white envelope. With Edmund and the other men watching in solemn silence, Nicholas ripped open the flap and pulled the note out.

  Nicholas,

  It seems you are right after all, I’m just like Vickie. I know you’ll never be able to forgive me, but I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I never meant to betray you by hiding my pregnancy. I knew you would be upset. I wanted to tell you the truth. I just didn’t know how. I’m sure you’ll find that hard to believe, and I’m pretty sure you’ll think I’ve been lying to you since that day in Goodmans cottage.

  You might even wonder if the baby is yours. I don’t expect you to believe me, but I am carrying your child. I never meant to hurt you, and I know the best way to solve the problem is for me to go home. I don’t want my presence to be a constant reminder of how I betrayed you with my lie. I think you’ll be much better off without me here. I love you, no matter what time period I live in. I’m sorry.

  Victoria

  P. S. Please give my love to Edmund. I didn’t have the strength to say goodbye to him.

  Home. He stared at the word for a moment as his body grew cold. Did she intend to bring another fainting spell on herself so she could go to the one place he couldn’t follow her? No, he couldn’t believe that of her, but the mere thought of it terrified him.

  “My lord,” Roberts spoke up quietly. “Her ladyship took the pound notes from your wardrobe.”

  “Bloody hell,” he rasped and closed his eyes.

  She’d left without saying where she was going and for all he knew whoever had been sending the threatening notes could have been watching her and might have followed her. Where would she go? Brentwood Park. Perhaps that was the home she was referring to. He could only pray he was right. Fear galvanized him into motion.

  “It’s more than possible the countess has gone back to Brentwood Park. Jamieson, on the off chance she hasn’t left London, send someone to Lord and Lady Starling’s residence to see if her ladyship went there. I’ll go to my sister’s.” He turned his head to meet his valet’s concerned gaze. “Roberts, pack my things. I’m going to go after her ladyship.”

  “I’m going with you.” Edmund glared at him, and Nicholas nodded his head in agreement. He looked back at his valet.

  “See to it, Roberts.” He looked at his brother who was still glaring at him. “Go with him, Edmund, and be ready to go when I return from Abigail’s.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Roberts said then quickly made his way back upstairs.

  Nicholas turned away from his brother and picked up his coat that he’d flung carelessly over the entryway table. Shoving his arms into the sleeves, he made his way out the front door and hailed a hackney cab. Time was of the essence. It was Sunday and the last train for Guildford left in a little more than an hour. Flinging himself into the cab’s seat, a huge knot rose in Nicholas’ throat. God help him, he had to find her. If he lost Victoria, he would lose a piece of his soul.

  Chapter 32

  The deed is done, madam. Regrets do not allow one to turn back the clock. The words thundered through Victoria’s mind, as she stared down at the toast and cocoa Molly had left her a short while ago. She’d barely slept, because Nicholas’ words had haunted her all night. She had expected him to be upset. However, she’d not expected his rejection to be so harsh, any more than she’d been prepared for the way it had devastated her. His bitter voice had cut her like a jagged knife. It was almost as if he blamed her for the pregnancy.

  The fact she’d withheld the truth from him had made matters far worse. In essence she had lied to him just like Vickie always had. She’d betrayed him by keeping the truth from him. The baby might have been a reality he would have adjusted to, but her betrayal was something she doubted he’d ever forgive. Like Vickie, she’d married him without telling him the truth. She was no better than her predecessor.

  She remembered the anger and contempt he’d displayed the first time they’d met at the Goodmans’ cottage. To face that cold, blistering anger again would be unbearable. When she’d first arrived at Brentwood Park, she’d thought coming to London would help her find a way back to the present. But she’d been here for more than two months. If nothing had happened by now, it was unlikely to happen at all. Was the portal back to her time in the woods where Thomas Goodman had found her? Whether it was or not, she wouldn’t try to find a way back, no matter how painful it would be to remain here.

  She had the baby to think about now. But she did want to go home. Home to Brentwood Park. It was a simple solution to the whole problem. At least she would be out of Nicholas’s hair. He wouldn’t have to come back to Guildford House every day to find her growing bigger with a child he didn’t want. The only thing she needed was money.

  Intent only on escape, she hurried into Nicholas’ room to search for whatever cash she could find. It took her several moments before she found a small box filled with pound notes in his wardrobe. She had no idea how much she’d need, so she took all of it. She returned to her room to pack a few items into a small travel bag Molly had placed in the bottom of her chifferobe.

  She made sure to pack her journals, and at the last minute realized she needed to leave a note for Nicholas. The last thing she wanted was to give Reardon more ammunition if everyone believed the Countess of Guildford had disappeared for a second time. She sat down at her small desk and stared at the blank piece of paper. What could she say to him? Apologizing for her betrayal seemed so trivial a response for her crime.

  With a quiet sigh, she quickly penned a note to him then returned to his room to place the envelope on the mantle. As she turned to leave, her gaze fell on his bed. For the past several weeks she’d fallen asleep every night and awakened each morning in Nicholas’ arms. Last night was the first time they’d been apart since their wedding. Her chest tightened with pain. She’d been happy before they’d been married at St. Paul’s Cathedral, but the days afterward had filled her with a joy she’d never dreamed of. Now the dream was shattered.

  She’d known from the moment she’d learned she was pregnant that Nicholas would not want the child, although she’d hoped he would change his mind when he learned the truth. But his response to the news last night only emphasized his feelings about the matter wouldn’t change. With a soft sob, she went back to her room to retrieve her small bag and left the house. Maybe she should have waited for Nicholas to come back home. No, the fact that he’d spent the night elsewhere was enough to tell her that he wanted nothing to do with her.

  An invisible spear pierced her heart as she realized how much she missed him
already, and she’d barely left the house. She hailed a cab as she’d seen Nicholas do, and instructed the driver to take her to the London Waterloo station where they’d arrived in London. With each passing block that the hackney cab took her away from Guildford House, the more her heart ached. When the hackney rolled to a halt in front of the railway station a cacophony of sounds filtered out into the street. She handed the driver her fare than entered the station.

  The chaos greeting her was an assault on her senses. She flinched at the noise and made her way to the ticket window. The clerk behind the barred window informed her the next train to Guildford was about to leave the station, but if she hurried she could catch it. Following the man’s directions, she reached the platform just as the conductor made the last call for boarding. For the next three and a half hours, Victoria stared at the train window, her body numb.

  When she’d disembarked from the train in Guildford, she suddenly realized she had no transportation to Brentwood Park other than her own two feet. She stood outside the train station debating what to do for several minutes. They’d taken the carriage from the house when they’d traveled to London in December, and she was sure that it was at least five miles to the house. It was a Sunday afternoon, and there were few people out and about as most people were enjoying an afternoon of rest.

  Despite her exhaustion, Victoria set out on foot. At least she knew the way, and the thought of Mrs. Babcocke’s beef stew helped her maintain a steady pace despite the road conditions. Muddy and filled with slush, the ruts forced her to walk in the snow alongside the well-traveled roadway. The wet snow seeped into her shoes, numbing her toes. It had been years since she’d been this cold.

  After more than an hour, her perseverance rewarded her with the sight of Brentwood Park in the distance. Renewed with energy at the knowledge she was almost home, Victoria quickened her pace. In less than an hour, she entered the house. Most of the staff had accompanied them to London, but Mrs. Babcocke and a few other servants had remained behind. She set her travel bag down near the stairs then walked to the rear of the house.